The question in my heart must have been evident on my face, because he tried to answer me.

"I saw the article in the local paper, and then I saw you interviewed on the news."

"Why are you here?"

"To pay my respects, to see you..."

"No, Nick, I meant why are you *here*? Here in town?"

"I wanted to see you, Joanna."

I laughed, a pathetic sound bordering on hysteria.

"Jo-"

"You arrogant sonofabitch. How dare you?"

"Joanna, please-"

"What gives you the right to even speak to me after all these years?"

His face softened as he answered, "I love you."

It's what I'd wanted to hear for ten long years, but coming from his lips on this day, especially, it was just wrong. "Go home, Nick." I turned to squish my way to my car and left him standing in the rain, staring after me with his mouth hanging open.

I was halfway home before allowing myself to cry. I'd held it in for days, and seeing Nick again had been the perverse straw that broke the camel's back. I wept all the way up the stairs, and through my shower. It was the middle of the summer, but I was cold. I lit a fire and still the chill that pervaded my bones would not abate. Somehow I managed to call and check on the children without alarming my co-worker, but once I had hung up the phone the tears began all over again.

The glow from the fire cast the only light in the house, and when the doorbell rang at ten that night, I was still curled in my chair, huddled beneath a blanket and freezing.

The bell rang insistently for almost fifteen minutes, and I did my best to ignore it. Finally the shrill sound was pounding its way into my head, which already felt like it was splitting in two. Angrily I struggled up out of my chair, wrapped my blanket around my shoulders and flung open the door. God, why me?

"Nick, go away," I said weakly.

"Joanna, what's wrong?" he sounded so far away. Why did he sound so far away?

"Nothing," I managed. "Just go home," I begged.

He stepped toward me, and I tried to close the door. The last thing I saw before passing out at his feet was a blurry, double-image of Nick reaching out to me.

--------

Mmmmm, this was so nice. The cool cloth pressed to my forehead dulled the pain and cooled the heat. The sweet juice that washed down white aspirin tablets soothed my aching throat. The soft voice that spoke in loving, comforting tones lulled me into a deep sleep.

Sometime during the night, I was lifted into the chair in my bedroom, and when I was returned to my bed, the sheets were cool and clean-smelling. The soft voice whispered again.

"Go back to sleep, Joanna."

"The phone," I mumbled. "I heard the phone."

"Kate called. She said to tell you that Brianna and Daniel were fine, and not to worry about them. Just to get better."

"Okay," I sighed, closing my eyes once more.

"Jo?" Nick asked.

"Hmm?" I was almost asleep again.

"Who's Daniel?" He was rubbing my back and it felt so good, rubbing all the soreness away, just like he used to.

"Silly," I smiled. "Daniel's your son. Brianna's younger brother."

"Jo, when I left there was only Brianna." I missed the look of horror that was on Nick's face as he began to digest what he was hearing.

"Mm hmm. That's right," I slurred. "You shouldn't have left, Nick. You never knew." As the night closed in around me once more, I heard the anguished words he whispered.

"A son ... oh dear god, I have a son."