"Are you okay, Mom? Are you feeling better now?"

"Much." The transfusions had worked wonders for her, and the medication had quieted the pain. But better than that, she was smiling again. In the oddest of ways, and for no reason she could understand, Johnny had come home, and she had hope again.

Chapter 5.

Alice kept busy around the house for the next few days. She had plenty to do, and she had promised her doctor she would rest, which she did. Jim was dropping the kids off at school for her, and one of the other mothers was driving Bobby home. Charlotte knew her mom wasn't going to her basketball games that week, and said she understood. And Alice had all the time in the world to be at home, and talk to Johnny when he was there. around the house for the next few days. She had plenty to do, and she had promised her doctor she would rest, which she did. Jim was dropping the kids off at school for her, and one of the other mothers was driving Bobby home. Charlotte knew her mom wasn't going to her basketball games that week, and said she understood. And Alice had all the time in the world to be at home, and talk to Johnny when he was there.

As he had said he would, he came and went, he wanted to see his friends, check out his old school. He had sat in on some of Charlotte's cla.s.ses with her. He told their mother she was doing well, but was more interested in sports than her work, and he told his mother she really needed help in math. Other than that, he thought she seemed to be doing okay.

But Bobby was the one who worried him. He had visited him too, and he said he kept to himself, didn't seem to bond with anyone, and never joined in any of the games. Even in his special school, he was unusually withdrawn. He had been worse than ever, ever since Johnny died, and he had only gone back to school finally, just before Alice got sick.

"What are you going to do with him, Mom? I thought he'd be talking again by now." It didn't look like there was much chance of it, particularly after five years. And it was obvious that Johnny's death had driven the boy even further into himself.

"He still could talk one day," Alice said hopefully. "Maybe he'll want to say something to us enough to try." For the moment, he seemed to be comfortable as he was.

"What does the doctor say?"

She sighed, thinking about it. It was like the old days again, when she could talk to him. G.o.d knew, she couldn't talk to Jim. And Charlotte was still too young. "The doctor said he doesn't respond to the therapists, and there's no point pushing him. The last time we tried, he only got more withdrawn. He just can't do it, I guess." And sometimes she wondered what would happen to him when she was gone. He could learn to live a life on his own one day, she supposed, but his world was so limited, and always would be, if he didn't break through his walls. And for the time being, none of them had found the door, or the key.

"You ought to take him to Charlie's games. He used to love coming to mine," Johnny said sensibly, as Alice pondered it and then nodded. It was actually a good idea.

"He used to embarra.s.s her, but she's grown up a lot since then. She probably wouldn't mind as much now."

"She'd better not," Johnny growled at her, and he kept her company in the kitchen while she baked two apple pies.

"Why two?" he asked, breathing deeply of the delicious fumes, as his mother shooed him away from the oven door. He wanted to open it so he could smell more.

"I thought I'd take one over to the Adamses this afternoon. They've been so good to us. Pam dropped off a couple of dinners for Dad while I was in the hospital. And they've been terrific to us ever since you died." The insanity of saying it to him suddenly made her stop and stare at him, and then they both laughed. "Do you realize how crazy this is? If anyone heard me talking to you like this, they'd probably lock me up."

"Well, no one's here to hear you, and they can't see me, so I guess everything's okay," he said, as she took a long drink of the supplement the doctor had prescribed for her. But ever since he had come back, she seemed to be feeling pretty good. Better than she had in years, in fact, and mostly thanks to him. It was amazing what the lightening of the yoke of grief did for her. She felt as though she had dropped twenty years, and looked it. She was only sorry the others couldn't see and talk to him too.

"I'd take the pies over to the Adamses for you if I could, Mom," he said casually, leaning against the refrigerator and watching her with a grin. "I don't think I can do stuff like that."

"This is miraculous enough, sweetheart," she said, still looking more than a little awed by what had happened to them. "Why do you think they sent you back?"

"I'm not sure. I think to finish things up. Supposedly, they do that sometimes when you go too fast, and leave a lot of unfinished stuff."

"Like what?"

"You ... Dad ... Bobby ... Charlie ... Becky ... Maybe they thought none of you was doing so great, and needed some help."

"I guess we did," his mother said quietly, grateful for these extra days with him. They were an extraordinary gift, and she was loving every minute of it. "How long do you think they'll let you stay?"

"As long as it takes," he said cryptically.

"To do what?" She still didn't understand what his "work" was going to be, but neither did he.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm supposed to figure it out for myself. They didn't tell me much." She didn't dare ask him who "they" were. He had no halo, no wings, didn't fly, didn't come through walls and doors. He was just walking around as he always had, looking just the way he did four months before, hanging around in her kitchen, and sitting on the end of her bed. He looked and felt and smelled and sounded the same, and whenever she touched his hand, or kissed his cheek, or put her arms around him, he was warm. He was the greatest gift she'd ever had, since he'd returned, and she was unspeakably grateful to have him there with her, for however long it was.

He was sitting in the living room, watching TV, when she left to pick Bobby up, and she asked him if he wanted to ride with her. He hesitated for a minute, and then decided that he would. And as they drove along, they talked about a number of things, the friends he'd had in school, the scholarship that had meant so much to him, the favorite games he'd played, the memories he had as a child that were so precious to all of them now. He made her laugh several times as they drove along, reminding her of pranks he'd played, and things she'd done. And she was still smiling when Bobby got into the car. And as soon as he did, Johnny disappeared.

"Hi, sweetheart. Did you have a good day?" Bobby nodded sometimes, but he didn't this afternoon. He just looked at her, and then glanced into the backseat, as though he sensed something there. And then he said nothing at all, and looked out the window as they drove away.

She gave him cookies and milk when they got home, and he quietly went upstairs, when the phone rang and she answered it. It was Pam. She was still at work, but wanted to share some gossip with her. Alice said she'd baked an apple pie for her, and Pam sounded pleased. Alice promised to drop by with it after Pam got home from work.

And when she did, she took Bobby with her. The Adams kids were going wild all over the kitchen and the living room, and Becky was cooking dinner for them with her long blond hair piled high on her head. She looked a little fl.u.s.tered as the hamburgers started to burn, but Alice thought she was getting more beautiful every day. It made it doubly sad that Johnny was gone. They would have been so happy when they got married one day. And Becky hadn't looked at anyone else in the four months he'd been gone. At eighteen, her life seemed as isolated as her mom's. Becky felt widowed too, in her own way, and all she did was go to work, and come home to help take care of the kids. She hadn't even gone to a movie since Johnny had died. And Alice told her she should make an effort to get out sometime.

"I can't even get her to leave the house, except to go to work," Pam complained. She was worried about her. But she had been doing the same thing herself for the last two years since Mike had died.

"You both need to go out more. Why don't you let Charlie and me baby-sit for you sometime?" Alice wasn't entirely sure Charlotte would be pleased with the idea, but it would be nice to do something for them for a change.

The two women chatted for a while, and Bobby sat quietly watching the other kids. He didn't join in, and they didn't ask him to, although several of them were close to his age. But it was as though he weren't there. He was completely removed and withdrawn, and he seemed almost invisible to them as he watched everything they did. And as Alice turned at the sound of a particularly large crash from the living room, she saw Johnny following Becky up the stairs. Alice stared at him, startled to see him there, and when Becky came back to check on dinner again a few minutes later, he stood next to her at the stove. She was entirely unaware of him, as Alice struggled to listen to what Pam had just said. It was something about a man she'd met at work. But for the life of her, Alice couldn't remember what she'd said to her. Her eyes were riveted on Johnny, watching Becky b.u.t.ter the corn on the cob she'd made, and he turned to face his mother with a wave and a grin, as she smiled at him.

And when the Adams clan sat down to dinner a few minutes later, she and Bobby left. He went upstairs as soon as they got home, and Johnny was waiting for her at the kitchen table, smiling at her. She waited until she heard Bobby's door close, and then scolded him.

"What were you doing over there?"

"The same thing you were, Mom. Just visiting. G.o.d, Becky looks great."

"It was so weird watching you next to her. I couldn't even hear what Pam was saying to me." She still looked fl.u.s.tered as she thought about it, and Johnny laughed at her.

"I know. You should have seen the look on your face."

"They must have thought I was nuts. But not as nuts as if someone hears me talking to you. We have to be careful," she said, warning him, but he looked unconcerned.

"Sure, Mom, I know," he said, sounding like the seventeen-year-old he was. And a minute later, he bounded up the stairs and went off in the direction of Bobby's room. Alice was enjoying it, but it was certainly odd having him back in the house. And when Charlotte walked in after basketball practice, she gave her mother a strange look.

"How was your day?" Alice asked her, as she always did. The aura of normalcy she was trying to maintain was beginning to feel like a wig that had slipped.

"Okay," Charlotte answered, scrutinizing her, and then she finally decided to tell her mother what she'd heard. "Julie Hernandez's mom said she saw you in the car, talking to yourself, and laughing today. Mom, are you okay?" Charlie was beginning to wonder if the medication for her stomach was making her mom weird. She had heard her talk to herself the other night too, and her mom had said she'd been on the phone, but for some reason Charlotte didn't believe her.

"I'm fine. I was talking to Bobby. He was lying on the backseat," Alice explained.

"She said you looked like you were on your way to to school." school."

"I think she was confused," Alice said comfortably as Charlotte shrugged her shoulders, only partially convinced. Her mom was definitely not herself these days. She was happier than she'd been in months, and looked almost guilty at times, as though she had done something she shouldn't have. And for a terrified instant, Charlotte couldn't help wondering if her mom had started drinking too. "How was your game?" Alice asked, as though nothing had been said.

"Okay, I guess. We won."

"You don't sound too excited about it," Alice said, focusing on her. Charlotte asked for so little from her, and she had been obscured at times by her brothers, the one such a hero, so much a star, and the other with his special needs. It was easy to lose track of Charlotte in the midst of it, and Alice was acutely aware of how unfair that was. She did her best to compensate for it, but lately Charlotte seemed to be avoiding everyone, and she was unusually withdrawn, even from her.

"I'm not excited about it," Charlotte said with a shrug, and then disappeared to use the phone.

Alice got dinner going then, and eventually Jim came home. They went through the usual rituals, and as always now, dinner was a joyless meal, and went too fast. All any of them wanted to do was eat and run, and go to their own rooms. Jim parked himself in front of the TV afterward, and after she'd put the dishes away, Alice stopped for a minute to talk to him before she went upstairs to lie down on their bed. It had been a long day for her.

"Is everything all right at work?" she asked, as she sat down next to him on the couch.

"Fine," he said, without turning his eyes or his attention to her. "How do you feel?"

"Great." It was hard to believe that only a few days before she'd been so sick.

"Don't forget to take your medicine," he said, glancing at her, and she was touched by his concern. It was so rare that they talked now. They had been best friends once, and very much in love when they first married, but then things had never quite panned out for him, his business had never really gotten off the ground, and he had started drinking, not too much at first, but just enough to make a difference. And then he'd had the accident, and everything had changed after that. He had shut himself away in a place where Alice couldn't reach him anymore. But as he looked at her tonight, for just a fraction of a second, she saw the shadow of the man she still remembered and had always loved. "I'm glad you're feeling better. You really scared me. I couldn't..." He started to say something and then stopped himself. "We've had enough bad luck around here," he said gruffly, and then turned away to concentrate on the TV again, and before she could even answer him, he had dismissed her and disappeared.

"Thanks, Jim," she said, leaning over to kiss his cheek, but he pretended not to notice and didn't respond. He got up to get himself another beer, and left her sitting there. And he lingered in the kitchen just long enough for her to finally give up, and go upstairs, thinking about him.

She checked on both children, and they seemed fine. Bobby was throwing a ball against the wall in his room, and Charlotte was doing her homework. And as Alice walked back to her own room, she heard a sound in Johnny's room. She opened the door quietly, and saw him standing there in the moonlight, smiling at her. He had put on his beloved varsity jacket, as she walked in and closed the door softly behind her.

"What are you doing in here?" she whispered. Neither of them dared to turn the light on, for fear that someone would see.

"I'm just going through some stuff. I found some great pictures of Becky from last summer when she went to the lake with us."

"I see you found your jacket." He had grown so much in the last four years he had nearly outgrown it, but he loved it so much he didn't care even if the sleeves were a little short, and the shoulders tighter than they had been. "Why don't you go through that stuff tomorrow? Someone is going to hear you in here."

"I'll bet no one ever comes in here."

"I do," she said sadly, looking around the room and then at him. It was so good to see him back in it.

"How come you didn't put any of it away? I was afraid it would all be gone, or packed up in boxes somewhere."

"I couldn't do that," she said as her eyes held his.

"Maybe you should," he said sensibly. "It's kind of sad seeing it all sitting here like this ... even though I'm glad you left it for me." She smiled at what he said, sat down on the bed, and looked up at him.

"I never thought you'd be back here. But how could I take apart this room? It would be like losing more of you than we already had."

"The room isn't me, Mom. You have me here," he said, pointing at his heart, "and you always will. You know that." He sat down next to her on the bed and put an arm around her. "I'm not going anywhere, even after I go back again. I'll always be here with you."

"I know. But I love all this stuff ... your pictures ... your trophies." The room still smelled of him, even more so now that he was sitting beside her. He had a fresh clean smell, of soap and boy and aftershave, that always made her think of him, and lingered in the room.

They sat there talking for a while, and eventually he went back to her bedroom with her, and the room was so warm he took his jacket off and dropped it on a chair, as they went on talking. Charlotte came in once, and looked at her oddly. She'd heard her mother talking again, and was beginning to wonder about her. She wanted to borrow a sweater to wear to a.s.sembly the next day, and Johnny scolded his mother when she left them and went back to her room.

"You shouldn't let her wear your stuff, Mom. All she wants to do is show off for the boys in her cla.s.s, and the uppercla.s.smen. Let her wear her own stuff."

"She's only got one mother. And I only have one daughter, Johnny. It's okay for her to borrow my 'stuff,' as long as she returns it."

"And does she?" He raised a cynical eyebrow at his mother, and she laughed, and looked at him sheepishly.

"Not always."

"Be careful if she borrows my varsity jacket. I don't want her to lose it." They had already agreed that it would go to Bobby eventually.

And after a while, he went back to his own room, to look around again, and she was putting on her nightgown when Jim came upstairs, and he looked startled, and frowned, when he saw Johnny's varsity jacket on the chair where he had left it.

"What's that doing here?"

"I... I was just looking at it," she said, turning away from him, so he wouldn't see her expression. Jim always knew when she was lying to him, which she rarely did.

"You shouldn't go in his room," he said firmly. "It'll just upset you."

"Sometimes it feels right to just sit there, with his things, and remember him," she said quietly, and he shook his head as he walked into the bathroom to put on his pajamas. He was a fairly modest man, but she had always liked that about him. In the days before he drank too much there had been a lot she had liked about him. And for some reason, in the last two days, those memories had come to mind more and more often. It was as though she was not seeing who he was, but remembering who he had been.

And when he came out of the bathroom, Jim reminded her to put the jacket away the next day, and leave it in Johnny's closet. "Don't let the kids play with it," he admonished her, "they'll just lose it. And it meant a lot to him."

"I know that. I promised him I'd save it for Bobby," she said, not thinking how it sounded.

"When did you promise him that?" He looked puzzled.

"A long time ago. When he first got it."

"Oh," Jim nodded, satisfied with her explanation. He hated even seeing it there. It just reminded them of everything they had lost and would never have again. If he could have, he would have put it back in Johnny's room then, but he didn't want to go in there.

Jim got into bed next to her, and turned off the light, and the house was silent around them. Alice couldn't help wondering where Johnny was, if he had disappeared again to wherever he went these days between the times he spent chatting with her, or if he was still in his room, going through his papers, and rummaging in his desk. And she smiled, as she lay next to Jim, thinking of their son, and she was surprised when Jim put an arm around her. It was so rare that he was amorous with her anymore. Most of the time, he drank too much to even think about it, although he still did occasionally. But the opportunities were rare. More often than not, when the kids were in bed, he was pa.s.sed out in his chair downstairs. It was something Alice accepted. Their love life was yet another casualty of their life and broken years.

"Don't get sick again, Alice," he said, in the same tone he had used when he talked to her earlier on the couch, filled with tenderness and worry, and love for her.

"I won't. I promise." He nodded, and then turned over on his side, and went to sleep, snoring softly, as she watched him, wondering if life would ever be the same again. It seemed unlikely that it would.

Chapter 6.

For the next few days Johnny came and went, going back and forth between his own house and the Adamses'. He seemed to be spending a lot of time watching Becky, and he looked unhappy late one afternoon when he came home to his mother. Johnny came and went, going back and forth between his own house and the Adamses'. He seemed to be spending a lot of time watching Becky, and he looked unhappy late one afternoon when he came home to his mother.

"Where have you been?" She sounded like the mother of any teenager, and he laughed at the question when he walked in.

"I was at Becky's. The kids were all going wild and driving her crazy."

"I don't suppose you helped her with them," his mother teased.

"I would have if I could, Mom." He had always been good with them, and he liked them. "All I could do was keep an eye on them, and make sure none of them got a book of matches and burned down the house. They're a handful. She stayed home from work today to help her mom out. Two of them had the flu and couldn't go to school. But it sure isn't much of a life for Becky. She needs more than just that in her life. At least when I was around she got to go out and have some fun sometimes. She never goes anywhere now, Mom."

"I know. I keep telling Pam that. They both need to get out more."

"I'm not sure they can afford to," Johnny said honestly. But much as he hated to see her move on, he knew that Becky needed a boyfriend. There was nothing he could do about it, but he realized that at eighteen, she had a right to more than the life she was leading. Her siblings were as much her responsibility as her mother's. Sometimes more, because her mother worked longer hours. It saddened him that Becky never had fun anymore.

"I offered to baby-sit for her. Charlie could help me."

"If you can drag her off of the basketball court once in a while, which I doubt, sometime between basketball and baseball season. Why don't we try to get Dad to one of her games, Mom?"