Always - Iris Johansen [33]
“What was his favorite color? Most children like red.”
“He loved yellow. Bright yellow. For his fifth birthday I arranged a party at his nursery school, and he wanted all the balloons to be yellow.”
“Was he a quiet child?”
“Sometimes. When he was tired, he’d bring his favorite book and curl up next to me in the same chair.” She seemed to be struggling to get the words out. “He’d lean his head against me and not say a word until I’d finished. Though most of the time he’d fall asleep before I got halfway through.”
“Did he have a favorite toy he slept with?”
“Bruiser. It was a tattered old panda bear with one black eye. I told Tommy he looked like a punch-drunk fighter. It got so worn I tried to get him to accept a replacement, but he loved it so.…”
“What happened to Bruiser, Lisa?”
She didn’t answer. Her spine was arched with unbearable tension as if she were being stretched on the rack.
“Tell me, Lisa.”
“He’s with Tommy.” Her voice was so faint he could hardly catch it. “I wanted him to have something he loved with him. Bruiser is with Tommy.”
Oh, God, he couldn’t keep this up. Why wouldn’t she break? “What did Tommy look like when he smiled?”
“He had a dimple in his left cheek and he’d just lost his front tooth. I was planning on having his yearly picture taken, and I told him he’d look as ragtag as Bruiser. He laughed and—” She whirled to face him. Tears were running down her cheeks and her eyes were wild with grief. “But I never had that picture taken. He died, Clancy. He died!” Her slender body was suddenly racked with sobs. “It wasn’t fair. Tommy was so good. He didn’t deserve to have that happen to him.”
Clancy crossed the room in three strides, and gathered her in his arms. His hands cradled the back of her head, pressing her face into his chest in an agony of tenderness. “I know, acushla. I know.”
“He was a miracle.” Her voice was muffled, but the words flowed on. It was as if once started, they were impossible to halt. “A miracle. I hadn’t done anything to deserve him. I’d always been a little selfish and thoughtless, yet I was given Tommy. He was so sweet and affectionate. And smart. He was very bright for his age. All his teachers said so.” Her hands clenched his shirt front, wrinkling it. “I loved him so, Clancy.”
He could feel his throat tighten painfully. “The dreams. What are the dreams about, Lisa?”
“Tommy. They’re always about Tommy, and they’re all the same. It’s late at night and I’m at home. I’m happy. I even hum a little as I climb the stairs. I have to tuck Tommy in for the night, and I always love doing that. He’s always so clean and sweet after his bath. Then I open the door and Tommy’s not in his room. I don’t understand and I walk into the room and go across to his bed. The bed is very neat and cold and perfectly made up, with not a wrinkle in the bedspread. And I look down at it and I know that it’s going to stay that way. That Tommy’s never going to be there again. That I’m never going to tuck him in, or kiss him good night, or hold him.…”
He rocked her, pain exploding inside him. God, what must it be like for her? “I think I would have murdered Baldwin myself, if I were you,” he said huskily.
“I thought he felt the same way I did. He never seemed very affectionate toward Tommy, but after we separated he appeared to change. He’d take Tommy out for the day to amusement parks and the zoo. After the accident he seemed so …” She paused. “Broken. And he was so concerned when I was ill.” She shook her head in bewilderment. “Oh, I don’t know.”
“He would have realized that his only chance with you was to fake the same bereavement you were feeling,” Clancy said grimly. “He didn’t sound any too guilt-stricken this afternoon.”
“No, he didn’t.” She couldn’t seem to stop the tears from running down her cheeks, but the sobs had begun to subside. “I don’t understand it. I don’t understand him.”
“Well, I do,” Clancy said. “I understand the bastard very well.” Suddenly he picked her up and carried her across the room toward the chair. “But I have no intention of talking about