Unfinished Business    part 6 B

Livvy

Headers in Part 1

Rating: PG 13

~~~~~~~

It doesn't take Bobby long to begin to get lonely. Lindsay may have mentioned innumerable times the fact that she smells unpleasant but, lying here with the residue of her scent surrounding him, it isn't repulsion that he feels it's desire. Rising, he makes his way to the bathroom - whether as a voyeur or a participant is yet to be decided - all he knows is that she is there and he isn't and that is totally unacceptable.

As he enters the bathroom his senses are immediately assaulted with the warmth of the room. Taking a deep breath of tepid air, he notices something else - the aroma of Lindsay's shampoo... God, what that does to him! Whether under his nose as she curls in his arms, or just lingering in the air after she's left the room, it sends his senses on fire. There had been a time when the memory of her scent had been all he had to hold onto each day - besides hope. He loves the smell of her, primitively sweaty or soaped clean; he loves her scent, on him, on her, imbedded in the sheets or floating in the room. Today it's doing more than just arousing him, it's sending him back in time, as the memory of starting to make love in the shower on Friday night enters his mind. He remembers too that they had to abort their activity when the water turned cold; today he'll be more focussed, today there'll be no games.

Bobby steps into the shower in time to see Lindsay move her head out from under the spray.

"Do I know you?" she asks stunningly innocent.

Grinning at her gorgeous smile, Bobby replies, "You're about to," as he reaches for her body. Although he'd intended speeding things up, he soon becomes sidetracked kissing her. Damn but she kisses well! Deciding that he has to stop this if he wants to reach his objective, Bobby tears himself from her mouth. His lips buzz though, not happy being separated from such lush friends. 'We're lonely, we're lonely, we're lonely,' they cry until he is driven to taste her again.

"I need to rinse," he hears her say, and wonders when it started being called that?

His hands run over her skin, when they skim over a breast, his lips discover a new purpose and move down her body, searching for salvation. Lindsay's chest moves forward and Bobby smiles as her breast almost jumps into his mouth. His eyes raise to say thanks, only to see her head tilted back and her hands running through her hair. Oh, she's serious about that rinsing thing. Well, if she's busy then he can keep busy too. His hands travel down her back as his mouth changes sides. His fingers love exploring the contours of her body, especially where thigh becomes bottom becomes back, over and over again. He's never known cheeks that fit his hands so perfectly, the curves, the softness, the warm velvety skin; he knows he'll never want any others.

"Come up here, Bobby," Lindsay says and he almost jumps at the command, ready to set his plan into action.

He rises, eager to move things up a notch; spying her mouth he becomes mesmerized. Her lips are open slightly as she breathes heavily and he zeroes in on them. Lindsay turns their bodies around as they kiss until Bobby's back is now under the spray. While water pours over their faces, she reaches down and grasps his hands in hers, raising them between their bodies, she says, "Wet your hair, pretend your washing something out."

'Whatever turns you on,' he thinks and follows her instructions, closing his eyes as he immerses himself under the spray. When he believes he's put on enough of a show he straightens up, steps from the water and smiles at Lindsay, only to discover her gone.

"Hey!" he shouts and hears a delighted laugh from the other room. Sinking back under the spray, he enjoys its relaxing warmth. Maybe she's right and their bodies do need some time to recover. He smiles, remembering that, this morning, she'd been out running for over an hour while he'd slept on. He knows that he'd be dead if he'd done that before what they just did and, if possible, finds that he admires her even more.

~~~~~~~

Stepping out of the bathroom, Bobby sees that Lindsay is out on the deck, perched on a railing. Her head is tilted back with her face to the sun as she enjoys the breeze. Her face almost has a look of rapture to it and he feels the breath pulled from his body, once again stunned by her beauty and its effect on him. He dresses quickly, barely looking at what he puts on, more intent on watching Lindsay, more concerned with her actions than his own.

"You're mean, you know that?" he says to her as he walks out onto the deck, beaming broadly.

Lindsay opens her eyes and grins at him. It doesn't take Bobby long to pick up where they had left off and he finds that her now clothed body is a lot easier to keep his hands on than the slippery soapy skin that he'd lost possession of earlier. Soon his hands crave more than cotton and one slowly undoes the buttons along the front of her shirt as the other slides over her thigh.

"Mmm, skirts are good," he says as that hand continues up and up; finding nothing but skin under the skirt, Bobby growls his delight.

As each button gives way, his lips trail along the path that is cleared for him. Lindsay hums approvingly before encouraging his face to rise from her chest to kiss her again, a request with which he seems more than willing to comply. Their lips meet and part, hot breaths warming their faces before mouths join, this time ravenously feasting. It may be hard to believe but in the fifteen minutes since Lindsay last saw Bobby she has missed him terribly. She almost returned to the shower and the promise that his body had held.

Today she has a hunger that doesn't seem able to be assuaged. Whereas normally the demands of the day mean that she has to fight those impulses, here they have no daily responsibilities, so, if they want to spend every waking moment making love, they can certainly try to. She worries that, after this week of freedom, it will be harder to again exert control over herself when they return home and wars with the idea of beginning to do so again now. Her debate lasts as long as it takes for Bobby to apply suction to that spot on her neck that always results in her downfall; that he combines that action with fingers delighting in the unencumbered skin between her thighs makes any resistance futile, not to mention unwished-for. To hell with control anyway, Lindsay thinks, knowing that she'll be forced to utilize it again soon enough, so, for now, she decides to live purely for pleasure.

Knowing what she desires, her hands move right to the source, signifying her newfound resolve. Bobby moans his approval and stands straighter to enable her to slide his zipper down. She leans forward hoping for a taste of his lips but, as she does, he grunts, stilling her hand and mumbling, "Stop!"

"What?" she queries, believing that she must have misheard him; surely Bobby couldn't be wanting to stop? Ever so briefly, before he'd taken her hand off of him, she'd felt the evidence of his desirous intent to continue. When he physically pulls away too, Lindsay's eyes open and she looks at him questioningly.

Pacified by the passion that she still sees in Bobby's gaze, Lindsay allows him to gently embrace her. As he does, he whispers, "You know that secluded beach we've been enjoying? Well... it isn't quite so secluded anymore."

Holding his shirt for leverage, Lindsay turns to look over her shoulder and sees two small children running in their direction. An elderly couple, obviously accompanying them, walk quite a distance behind. Although, currently, the family is too far away to see Bobby and Lindsay clearly, Lindsay knows that it won't be long before they'll have an audience to their lovemaking. They sigh as Bobby holds Lindsay in a semblance of a hug while she quickly re-buttons their shirts.

"We could finish this inside?" he suggests and Lindsay pauses in her actions, thinking his offer through before sighing again.

Knowing her decision before she's even voiced it, Bobby nods. Seeing disappointment in his eyes, she holds him tight, whispering against his skin, "We have all day, Bobby, we don't need to rush... it's so nice out here, so let's take this slow and enjoy it for a while..."

"Yeah," he agrees, liking the sound of a long slow seduction, he kisses her tenderly, letting her know how much the idea thrills him.

He moves to step away but Lindsay holds him tighter whispering, "Not yet, don't go yet."

Bobby smiles at the notion that she could think he had had the will to leave her, he'd merely been planning on changing positions, he'd certainly never had any intention of allowing her out of his arms.

The children's laughter and delighted squeals soon reach their ears, as does a booming voice calling out, "That's far enough."

Lindsay begins to giggle and drops her head on Bobby's shoulder, whispering, "Didn't you hear him?" when Bobby takes the opportunity of her position to run his hand along her inner thigh one last time. When she pulls out of Bobby's embrace, she shoots him a warning look before turning her attention to their intruders, she sees the children stopped about the distance of three houses away, excitedly waiting for the adults to catch up. When they have, a collection of towels and toys are deposited on the sand. As she looks back at Bobby, Lindsay smiles in amusement at how much two adults have managed to carry and the obvious familial love that's demonstrated in the gesture.

Sliding off of the railing, Lindsay turns to face the ocean; her thoughts leading towards a future when this could be them. Bobby turns and leans against her back and, wrapping his arms around her waist, they watch as the children beg for and are given permission to swim then subsequently run screaming towards the water.

"Remind you of anyone?" Bobby asks against her ear, making Lindsay giggle as she's reminded of their own brief encounter with the icy water yesterday.

When the little boy stops dead at the waters edge then turns and runs back screaming even louder, Lindsay laughs heartily. Turning in Bobby's arms, she teases, "Sensitive toes must be a gender thing." She kisses his smile before turning back to watch the children, who are now making a production of dividing up their buckets and spades.

"Am I the only one wanting to run out there and join them?" Bobby asks.

"Boys and their toys," Lindsay giggles.

"I've already got my favorite toy right here," Bobby whispers deeply; Lindsay is thankful that his arms are holding her so tight as her legs begin to give way in reaction to his tone.

They silently watch the children playing, Lindsay leaning heavier and heavier against Bobby as they do. While Bobby's hands are happy just resting on her his mouth is more eager for action, finding it difficult not to taste her earlobe, her chin, her neck. Suppressing the urge not to just run back inside and continue what Bobby seems to be trying to start, Lindsay sighs and says, "I wish I'd brought a sketchpad... that would make a beautiful picture."

Bobby hums an agreement, barely listening to her words as the feel of her against him is too distracting.

Lindsay turns and looks pensively at him, her eyes perusing him intently as a silent question crosses her features.

"What's wrong?" he asks, disappointed to have lost contact with her and afraid that she's annoyed because he'd taken his fondling too far.

"Nothing," she shakes her head, then nervously asks, "I... Bobby... Can I draw you?"

"Excuse me?" he laughs, with a mixture of relief and surprise.

"I'm serious," she says, her eyes pleading her case, "While we are here, can I please draw you?"

"You really want to?" he asks in amazement.

"Yes!" she earnestly answers, then more quietly admits, "I've wanted to for a very long time."

Staggered by the thought that this is something she has wanted to do, he inanely asks, "Why?"

"Because..." Lindsay sighs while feeling a blush rise on her cheeks, she finds it hard to keep eye contact as she explains her reasoning to him, "We were encouraged to draw what called to us, what's in our heart." She smiles a little shyly at the pleasure that she sees transforming Bobby's features, before saying, "You're what's in my heart, Bobby, and I want to show you what I see."

"You mean my weird symmetry?" he teases.

"I mean your essence, your strength, beauty and passion."

Speechless, at first, Bobby draws her towards him for a tender kiss before promising Lindsay that she is in his heart too. They pull apart and Bobby still sees the question in Lindsay's eyes and realises that he has yet to give her an answer. 'What harm could there be?' he thinks and is about to immediately consent to her request until the lawyer in him decides that there are details that need clarifying. Dropping his eyes a little, while his ears pinken up in embarrassment, Bobby says, "I um... I don't have to be... um..." he pauses and then, shrugging as he waves his hand over his body, adds, "you know... do I?"

"Naked?" Lindsay says, amused that even after what they did this morning he still struggles to use certain words in general conversation with her.

"Yeah," he nods, smiling at her amusement.

Lindsay laughs, "No, Bobby, you don't have to be naked."

"Okay then," he says with a shrug, "Sure, draw me, if you want to."

"Really?" she asks, almost afraid to breathe in case this moment will prove to be a dream.

"Yeah," Bobby assures her, "It's fine, I don't mind." Seeing almost incredulity on Lindsay's face, Bobby traces his fingers lightly over her cheek as he whispers, "Lindsay, I'd do anything for you, you know that, right?"

Lindsay's surprised at the euphoria that rushes over her. Unable to reply she merely nods, taking the fingers that had caressed her cheek and drawing them to her lips.

Bobby, watching the euphoria transform Lindsay's face, he doesn't understand its basis but is proud that he has placed it there. As he starts thinking over what he has agreed to, he becomes curious about just what exactly is the process and asks, "So, what do I have to do?"

"Just keep still, look gorgeous and smile."

"Two out of three ain't bad," he quips, renewing their earlier debate..

"You're right a smile isn't necessary," she retorts not taking the bait. When his hands reach out to tickle her she quickly evades them, stepping away, she walks to the deck chairs and sits there, grinning up at him, waiting for his next move. Bobby leans back against the railing, watching her, amazed that this incredible woman is his. Today he can't stop asking himself, how did he get so lucky, it's a question that he's often found himself mulling over.

The sounds of the children playing fills the air, their laughter representative of the joy that Bobby feels. He slides up until he's sitting on the railing, when he looks back at Lindsay he sees how intently she is looking at him and, to cover the nervousness it creates in him, he jokes, "I'll just sit here and look irresistible."

Lindsay laughs, still staring at him, taking in every minute detail of his manner as she plans how she'll sketch him. Today he's all lose limbs and relaxation, from the bare feet poking out of the much faded jeans, to the sleeves rolled up on the shirt that's barely buttoned. She sighs happily as she recalls the sight of him earlier, almost stumbling out of the bedroom in his eagerness to reach her, his hands haphazardly righting his clothing as his eyes honed in on their desire - her. God, is there any look that can melt her more than the one that he'd bestowed on her then?

She'd wanted to encourage him to stop tucking the shirt in, to whip it off, to come to her in all his bare-chested glory, to take her again into his arms and remind her of the passion that burns so deeply inside of him. Although the shirt remained in place, his passion was uncovered, his lips and hands tormented her in the most delightful ways. She sighs again, her eyes captivated by the red shirt and the way it draws out the hues of his skin, is it the heat of the sun or the sense memory of them that's giving his skin an extra flush today? Whatever it is, he is beautiful and she longs to capture this essence of him, she longs to portray him so that his gentility and passion, all of his wonderful contradictions are there, looking back at you from the page.

Bobby sees how lost Lindsay is in her scrutiny of him, although feeling a little self-conscious he knows that her thoughts are all on the drawing that he has given her permission to do. Truthfully he's delighted that she has asked this of him, this side of her has long fascinated him because, so far, she's kept it hidden away. Whether deliberate or not, whenever he approached her by showing an interest in her art he'd felt unwanted, felt like an intruder, until the time came that he'd just stopped asking. His curiosity had remained though and he'd waited patiently for her to make an approach. At the time, she never did, but now, months later, she has opened that door and he feels that maybe she may even let him walk all of the way through it. Bobby's unsure what he's let himself in for, by agreeing to be her model, he's sure that he's going to hate it - close scrutiny has never been something that he has enjoyed undergoing - but, right now, he's enjoying watching her mind ponder her art and the fact that he is her chosen subject.

Eventually Lindsay's eyes drift from Bobby to the children who are playing in the sand. Although Bobby turns to watch them too, he begins to miss Lindsay's full attention. Wanting desperately to have her speak to him, he says, in his bedroom voice, "You're showing remarkable powers of resistance."

Lindsay laughs, "Not really," she says, "I'm just making plans..."

"Plans?" he asks intrigued.

"Hmm mmm, plans for what I'm going to do with you when I get my hands on you again." The coyly timid smile that she punctuates her words with makes her intentions crystal clear to Bobby.

Bobby smiles, "Plan away," he says waving his hands dismissively, before leaning back in a mock air of nonchalance, knowing that when Lindsay puts her mind to it he always benefits greatly. His body is churning at the thought of what he'll do when he gets a hold of her and he begins to regret the decision to wear jeans today.

Lindsay enjoys his deliberate pose, she can't drag her eyes from the body that is being displayed so sexily before her. Her mind starts filling in details, removing clothing, changing the setting, adding herself hovering over him, until she's no longer picturing herself drawing him. Her eyes close as she becomes lost in a sensual world of silk sheets and skin against skin..

"Hey, you... time to share," Bobby says, breaking into her vision.

She smiles demurely at him as if her mind had not wondered, Bobby shakes his head at her indicating that he isn't fooled for a second. Lindsay blushes as her eyes drop from his challenging ones, then, feeling brave now that he has granted her permission to draw him, Lindsay lays back on her chair and asks, "Hypothetically, Bobby, if I said that I wanted you to pose naked for me, would you?"

"Linds, do I have to?" he whines but Lindsay hears his underlying nervousness; his insouciance has faded fast..

Amused by his reaction, she reminds him, "It isn't like I haven't seen it before." Not wanting to make him feel more uneasy than he already is she tries hard not to laugh but a little snicker sneaks past her guard.

Bobby grins at her before sobering up and explaining, "It isn't you that I'm worried about seeing it."

Lindsay sits up a little as she asks, "And, if I promise you that I would ~never~ show it to anyone?"

"You can't guarantee that, not with friends like ours who make snooping an art form."

"I hate to break this to you, Bobby, but Helen has already seen it too," Lindsay replies, no longer trying to hide the amusement from her voice.

Bobby looks away from her, grimaces before turning back and saying, "Lindsay, I... I'd just rather..."

Feeling their happy, playful mood disappearing, she quickly reassures him, "Bobby, it's okay, I was just curious if you would do it, I wasn't saying that I want you to do it." When he nods gratefully, she grins and teases, "Besides, if I wanted to draw you like that I could, I'm quite capable of drawing you from memory."

"You can do that, that's fine," Bobby says.

Sitting up fully, Lindsay says, "Excuse me?" stunned by his announcement.

"It's a guy thing," he justifies with a shrug.

"Oh, this will be good," she retorts with a smirk, loving when she gets a taste of what life is like on Mars.

Bobby slides down off of the railing, casually leaning against it, his feet are crossed and his arms rest stretched out along the railing - at least until his hands need to get involved in the explanation, "Say, there's a picture and someone finds it, if they ask did I pose for it, and I say that I did, then they're going to consider it an accurate depiction..." he grins and adds, "I'm assuming that you can actually draw here."

Lindsay merely raises her eyebrows, not confirming one way or the other whether she can.

Bobby grins, not at all surprised that she's leaving him in suspense - every great lawyer knows not to show your cards too early in the game - raising his hands to cross behind his head, he leans even further into the railing, "But if I say that no, I didn't pose for it, then... well, it isn't like what's on paper is necessarily..."

"What's on you," Lindsay finishes for him.

"Yeah," he nods, then grins, "See, maybe you need to repress my true proportions."

"What is it with guys and size issues?" she groans.

Bobby just shrugs; two can play the I'm-not-telling game.

Mock exasperated, Lindsay says, "You do know that size alone won't impress a girl, you have to know how to use it too?"

"Use it or lose it," he quips.

"Definitely not lost..." she whispers, allowing her eyes to drift and linger at the snugness of his jeans.

"Impressed?" he asks.

Lindsay having tuned out of the conversation, while reminiscing over the past few days, looks up at him questioningly.

"Do I... are you... you know, impressed with how I use it."

"Please, Bobby, like you need to ask."

Although he smiles smugly, Lindsay sees the desire for an answer in his eyes. 'What is it with men and performance issues?' she asks herself silently, then stands and walks to him, lays her head against his chest and, whispering to him, assures him in great detail of how thoroughly fulfilled she is by her man. She can't help delighting in the physiological reactions that he experiences because of her words. Bobby lifts her face, cutting her recitation short as he shows her how grateful he is that she has shared her thoughts with him in such graphic honesty.

Her tongue is caressed tenderly, invited to come out and play and chased back in when it retreats. His hands slide over her back, cupping her bottom and guiding her to the evidence of his delight. They move against one another as their kisses intensify, then, mindful of their circumstances, Lindsay pulls away before they can get too lost in sensation. She rests her forehead against Bobby's as they attempt to calm their breathing.

"God, Bobby!" she whispers.

He responds with an emphatic, "Yeah!"

Knowing that, if she wants to keep any control over her body, she can't stay in his arms, Lindsay steps back and, mumbling, "I think I need a drink," quickly hurries away.

As disappointed as Bobby is to see her leave, he knows that she made the right choice, talking is good but if he's touching her then talking is the last thing on his mind. Not that that's a bad thing either, but he's determined to show that he can give her what she asked for, he can take it slow and enjoy the day, can treasure every tiny moment and not just strive to lose himself in a physical maelstrom. While giving himself a mental pep talk that he can do this, he walks over to the deck chair that Lindsay had been sitting on and settles in there. His body still wants to run inside after her and end their conversation on any surface they find, so he is left reminding himself that he wants to know everything about Lindsay and that that includes exploring her mind and not just her body. Determined to have control again before Lindsay returns, and hoping for a distraction from his carnal thoughts, he looks out at the children playing. Barking a laugh, he calls out, "Lindsay come quick!"

With two glasses in hand, she's hurries out to him asking, "What's wrong?"

Bobby points to the kids and asks, "Is that the dance?"

Lindsay looks over and sees the little girl spinning in circles before dizzily dropping to the sand, laughing. Turning back to Bobby with a smile, Lindsay says, "Well, she doesn't have my dress, or my poise, but yeah, that's the one."

She places the glasses onto the table then moves to sit down but, before she can, Bobby rises and takes her hand, "Show me?" he says.

"What?" she laughs, not sure what it is that he is asking her to demonstrate.

Bobby gives her hand a bit of a twist and clarity rushes through her, smiling, she allows him to spin her, enjoying the sight of his smile each time they face one another again. Four pirouettes and he pulls her into his arms, they sway together a moment before he spins her away then back again. This time when they sway, he whispers, "Do you think your Mom would Fed-Ex that grass skirt here? I can't stop thinking about it."

Laughing, she pulls put of his arms, warns him to behave while her eyes tell him not to stop. Stepping away, she reaches for his cold drink then hands it to him.

"Should I drink it or wear it," he asks with a wink and she closes her eyes as she laughingly shakes her head in playful exasperation, not having needed to be reminded of how aroused they are; even another swim in the icy cold ocean seems a good idea to her right now.

Turning to pick up her own glass, she looks back and sees Bobby settled into a chair and chooses to share his chair rather than sit on the spare one. She curls up against his side and they lay there alternating between talking and being entertained by the jubilance of the children playing in the sand.

Having laughed heartily at their antics, Bobby sighs expectantly, "We're going to have some of them one day, aren't we?"

Lindsay looks up at him and smiles, her face becomes solemn as she says, "I can't picture us like that, Bobby. I mean, I want it for us, I'm surprised at how much I crave it now, I think about it all the time but I just can't picture how we'll be. I want so much to be a mother... but you and me, with the life we lead? Everything will have to change, it will be so different, we'll be different... and as much as I want it, it's hard to see us like that."

He nods, closing his eyes trying to see into their future, he too finds it hard to reconcile what they want for their family with their current life but knows that he'll do anything to make it work.

"All I know for sure is that it is going to be wonderful," she vows, laying her head back against him

"Yeah, it is... we are," he says proudly.

"You really do want kids, don't you," Lindsay whispers, not so much asking as delighted. She's watched this side of Bobby emerge over the years and it thrills her. She's not sure when the change actually occurred; in the first years of knowing him, apart from his playful attitude towards Kendal and the obvious affection he holds for the boy, Bobby never gave any indication that he'd ever looked at himself as father material. Something has changed though, because now, since they've become engaged and have finally admitted that they need, love and want only each other, Bobby talks in terms of when they'll have children and not if. She's noticed too the way that he watches children, when he does a little smile barely emerges but she sees in his eyes his joyful dreams of their future.

After a long moment of silence, Bobby replies, "I'm definitely ready, which is weird because I'd never really planned on having them," his voice is soft and almost lifeless, but there is a smile plastered onto his face that can only be attributed to his hopes for their future.

"You hadn't?" Lindsay asks surprised. Bobby has always talked about his life plans and she'd been sure that children were always included. Although he'd never spoken to her about the subject until after their engagement, he's always been great with kids, while adults often find him cold and austere, children are drawn to him and he's so gentle and kind to them. At the Donnell family gatherings that she has attended, he's often spent most of his time regaling the children with stories only half true, there had never been a doubt that Bobby was a great favorite among his cousin's children. The look she'd see in his eyes if he ever saw her holding a baby had always been one that she'd have to struggle not to allow tears to fall because of its intensity. How can this man say that he never planned to have children?

She looks across at him to gauge his emotions and sees him looking out at the children playing. She knows him well enough to know that he has more to say and so remains quiet, watching for when he's ready to explain.

Tuning to her Bobby softly says, "I had visions of a wife and family, but more in terms of what I expected I should want, than something I actually yearned for. I'd been happy enough plodding along as I was and just... I considered having a family more as a one day type of thing, one that will happen eventually and never considered doing anything to bring it on." He pauses, looks deeply into her eyes, before leaning forward to kiss her cheek, whispering, almost against her skin, he adds, "Then I met you, I didn't plan on anyone like you and suddenly the way that I looked at everything changed. The life I want now, my life with you, I hadn't imagined anything could be this right, but God, do I ever want it! I want everything, Lindsay, I want everything with you."

"I know what you mean," Lindsay says cuddling in closer, "I want us Bobby more than I've ever wanted anything." Holding him tight she wonders over the fact that this man has taken all her life plans and turned them upside down, and she couldn't be any happier or describe it in any other word than perfect.

"It's all so different." Bobby says.

"Knowing?" Lindsay asks and Bobby nods. They share a silence, thinking over the changes that have occurred in them since finding the person with whom they plan to spend the rest of their life.

With a grin, Bobby runs his fingers along Lindsay's spine, making her wiggle against him as he says, "I want a little girl who looks just like you."

"And a boy who looks just like you?" she asks raising her hand to his face.

"Nah," he says screwing up his nose, "I pretty much want him to look like you too, only more manly."

"More manly?" Lindsay sits up, "Are you suggesting that I am, in some way, manly?" she teases.

"My God, no!" Bobby vows, his eyes roaming every inch of her as he promises, "All woman and what a woman!"

Lindsay laughs at him and, as she lays back down, they share a tender teasing kiss.

"Maybe we can just pass on our best features," she suggests.

"I've got great ankles," Bobby offers.

"Really?" she giggles at the notion that Bobby has ever given thought to this.

"Yeah... look." He raises and bends his leg, depositing his foot in her lap.

"Mmm... yes... nice," she says thoughtfully as she plays her finger over the bone. With a grin she moves to tickle his foot, making him yelp and pull it away. "Sensitive toes too," she laughs.

Holding her close, Bobby sighs, "I love your laugh."

"I love your voice," Lindsay declares.

"Except when it grates on your nerves," he teases, knowing that sometimes the only thing that she wants is to be left alone to sort out her problems but, seeing her hurting, he has to try and help, offering unwanted suggestion after unwanted suggestion, subsequently 'Bobby, shut up,' is a fairly frequent declaration in their household.

Grinning Lindsay nods, "Yeah, except for then but, most of the time, when you're behaving yourself, Bobby, your voice is beautiful... I love it!" She watches the expression on his face change to one of sheer awe as she sees that her sincerity has thrown him.

Just as he's about to speak, Bobby's stomach does the talking for him, rumbling ravenously.

"Hungry?" Lindsay asks running her hand over his pleading stomach, her mischievous eyes and slow caress show that she fully intended the question to have a duel meaning.

"Yeah," he says emphatically.

Lindsay slides down his body to plant a kiss on his stomach, while doing so she looks up at him and sees confusion as to which hunger she plans to assuage. Sliding back up, she kisses him softly and whispers, "Wait here, I'll get lunch."

He smiles at her and the flash of disappointment that she saw cross his face had been so minute that it would have gone undetected had she not been anticipating it.

Rising she runs her hand along his arm as she says, "I always feel like a lie down after a big meal, don't you?"

Taking hold of her hand, he draws her back towards him. Sitting up he replies to her with a kiss that is so intense there is no doubt of what exactly he is promising to accomplish while she has her lie down after lunch. As they part, Lindsay stands for a moment just looking at him seeing the same adoration in his eyes that she knows must be there in her own.

Eventually reality returns and she recalls the task that had her leaving his arms in the first place. "Lunch," she says and hurries away.

"Lunch," Bobby repeats, laying back down with an expectant smile on his face.

When Lindsay returns, Bobby is almost drifting off, having allowed the somniferous symphony of the sea to seduce him. He quickly wakens when Lindsay places their lunch on the table beside him. Before sitting again, she looks out at the family to see the children's current antics; guided now by an eager grandfather they are hurriedly filling buckets with sand as he shapes for them an elaborate castle. Their grandmother smiles at the cheerful chatter as she sets up their picnic lunch.

Turning back to Bobby, Lindsay asks, "Did you ever do that, Bobby?"

"Do what?"

"Spend time with your grandparents, go on outings with them like that."

"Yeah."

Sitting on the chair next to his, she asks, "Tell me about them?"

"My dad's family lived nearby, only four blocks away, so we spent a lot of time with them. Pop would take me to a Celtics game each year for my birthday; if they won it was because I was their lucky charm, but if they lost, well then he had a whole litany of mistakes they'd made, how they could have won if only they did this or that... Nanna never listened when he'd go on about them, 'It's only a game," she'd say, "There'll be others.' But me, I'd hang onto every word; when I grew up and played for the Celtics, I'd do it Pop's way."

"You wanted to be a basketball player?"

"It changed depending on whether it was baseball or basketball season, but Pop was fanatical about his Celtics, so, really, I wanted to do it for him."

"Even more fanatical than you?" Lindsay asks, as if this is an impossibility.

"Much, much, more."

"Your poor grandmother," She moans having barely survived last basketball season without strangling Bobby. Deciding to change the subject before the Celtics take over, she asks, "What did your grandfather do for a living?"

"He was a carpenter, he'd make the best toys for me, like your Christmas dress, they'll be at home in storage somewhere. Packed up and ready for our kids."

Lindsay smiles and reaches her hand out to him, they continue eating without losing this connection. "So you spent a lot of time with your grandparents?" she asks after a lull in conversation.

"Yeah they were always dropping in on us or we'd go over there. Pop was great, so was Nan. I still remember the first time I was allowed to walk alone to their place..."

"How old were you?"

"About six or seven, I guess, but I had been insisting that I could do it alone since I could talk. Mom always said that my first words were, 'Do it myself.'"

They both laugh at the thought of how much Bobby must have nagged his parents for those four or five years until they allowed him to walk the distance alone. Lindsay is never quite sure if persistence is a virtue or a vice where Bobby is concerned.

"So, they finally caved?" she says.

"Yeah, I felt so grown up. Of course Mom and Nan were talking on the phone when I left home and still going strong when I arrived there." He smiles and adds with a wink, "But, that was about an entirely different matter."

Lindsay smiles at him, not believing it for a second but knowing how important that belief had been for the independent little boy making his first auspicious journey. "They got along well?" she asks.

"Yeah my mom was like the daughter they never had."

"They only had sons?"

"No, they had a daughter but Mom was the one they wished they had."

Lindsay laughs and, looking sheepish, Bobby says, "I shouldn't say that, she wasn't that bad, I thought she was nice it's just she was very different from the rest of the family..."

"How so?" Lindsay asks intrigued, never having heard about this elusive aunt before.

"Well, I guess a part of it was to do with the times... It was the sixties, seventies and she was really into that scene, she attended rallies and peace marches, she got herself arrested for sit-ins a couple of time, which horrified my grandparents. I just remember her as being pretty, she wore lots of jewellery and bright clothes and... when she hugged me she'd smell good too. I was a little in awe of her, I thought she was the most beautiful woman... and then I met you and found the true greatest beauty."

Lindsay rises from her chair and joins Bobby on his, they softly kiss for a moment and as they part Bobby whispers, "What do you know, it worked."

Lindsay gives him a playful slap and asks, "So what happened to her?"

"She joined the Peace Corp. in nineteen-seventy one, met up with a guy, it was love at first sight and they were married a week later. Now they run a little B&B in Elora, Ontario. We should go there sometime."

"Yeah," Lindsay sighs, knowing that the likelihood is slim that there will be too many vacations like this one. Not wanting to be reminded of their busy lifestyle, she asks, "Did you spend a lot of time with your mom's parents."

"Unfortunately, no. Because they lived so far away, I really only met them twice... three times if you count the visit when I was born but I don't remember much of that one."

Lindsay catches sight of his smile before she feels him nip against her ear. She sighs, wishing he'd smile more often when talking about his mother, wishing that she felt brave enough to ask him more directly about her, instead of waiting for the tidbits that he's started to offer. After all this time, she still feels like she knows so little about the woman who had been most influential on Bobby's life. "Tell me about your mom's parents," she says, almost humming as Bobby's lips, teeth and tongue have found a most sensitive place on her neck to play. If it wasn't for the fact that he seems so open to talking today she just may have let him play a little longer.

Slowly drawing his mouth from her skin, he says, "They came to stay with us when I was three or four, something like that... I don't know if I really do remember that visit or if I've just heard the stories so often that they've become like memories to me."

"Probably a bit of both," Lindsay suggests.

"Yeah, maybe, the meeting that I do remember clearly though was when I was seven and I went to stay with them."

"That would have been hard for you, not knowing them and all."

"Oh no, I knew them well, we were really close, we just didn't see one another often."

Lindsay gives him a how-can-that-be look.

He smiles at her and explains, "I'd talked to them on the phone when they'd ring... and, see, the thing is, my mom and Grandma corresponded a lot. They wrote letters, they did this alternate week thing, so one week my mom would write to her mom and the next week her mom would write back. After I was born my grandma started putting in a little hello message to me too, so my earliest memories are of sitting on Mom's knee and reading Grandma's letters."

"That's sweet," Lindsay sighs, picturing the two of them. The chubby cheeked cherub Bobby had been and the mother he adores. One of the reasons she loves visiting Stephen, and the house Bobby had grown up in, is the chance to peruse the childhood photos of Bobby that adorn the walls.

Bobby notices Lindsay tuning out, he isn't sure where her mind has wandered off to but wants it to return to the here and now. Taking her hand in his, he plays with the lines along her palm as he says, "Yeah, I always wanted to help when she wrote her letter, she would say aloud what she was writing for me until I was old enough to say what I wanted to tell Grandma. Mom taught me to write my name so that I could sign the letter too, then she taught me to write grandma so I could add that as well. I loved..." he pauses and sighs, dropping Lindsay's hand. "I loved writing those letters with her... It was our special time."

Turning his face so that their eyes meet, wanting to lose the hint of melancholy she feels rising in Bobby, Lindsay says, "I bet your grandma loved receiving the messages from you too."

"Yeah, the letters that she'd write me were like fairy tales really, it was like sitting down to hear Mom read me a book, she'd talk of this wonderful little boy and all his adventures," he huffs a laugh and adds, "It took me a long time to realize that the little boy was me and not a story book Bobby." Grinning self deprecatingly he says, "Intelligence was something I was slow to grow into."

"Still growing," Lindsay teases and dodges away from his tickling fingers.

"I guess that's true," he sighs.

She kisses his jaw to ensure him that she was only teasing, adding, "You are the most brilliant man I have ever met."

"But with a propensity to be dense," Bobby adds, making Lindsay laugh.

In matters of law the facts are facts and Bobby and Lindsay can always see where the other is coming from, but when it comes to their relationship, what seems obvious to one can be completely misread by the other. Dense and neurotic are words often bandied around during a disagreement out of confusion and frustration, they've become so common that they've woven their way into playful banter too.

Bobby grins, loving the sound of Lindsay's tinkling laughter, when it ends on a sigh he nuzzles against her, saying, "The week that I started school, I decided I knew it all, so when it came time to write the letter I wasn't happy just writing the names, I wanted to do it all on my own. I told Mom that I go to school now, that I've learnt all my alphabet, so I don't need her help anymore because I can write to Grandma on my own."

Lindsay smiles, she knows Bobby has never grown out of his, I-can-do-it-on-my-own phase. "Did she let you?"

"Sure, she wrote what I'd said I wanted to say on a spare page, then she left the room while I wrote my letter because she said that she had something else she needed to do."

"She was letting you copy without her watching."

"If I'd needed to."

"But you didn't?"

"Of course not," he winks, remembering it had taken him almost an hour, and five pages, to get it all written down but he'd been determined to do it, so he hadn't given up even after discovering how difficult it was.

"Did she ever come back and see you copying?"

"Nah, she waited for me to bring it to her and then praised me for what a wonderful job I'd done. She's made cookies while I wrote so we ate them to celebrate the first time I'd written a letter all by myself."

Lindsay smiles at him, "Did it make you feel all grown up?"

"Yeah," Bobby nods, pleased with the affection he sees on Lindsay's face, gladdened that she recognizes how special this time with his mother had been. "I was so proud of myself when I was finished that letter and I always wrote my own from then on."

"All by yourself," Lindsay teases.

"Yeah," he laughs, "But I learnt to make them shorter then that first one after discovering how much work it was."

"Lazy bones," she teases him trickling her fingers along his face until he turns to nip her fingers.

He suddenly chuckles and Lindsay raises an eyebrow, requesting an explanation, "When I was seven and I went to stay with my Mom's parents, I was mortified when I saw that very first letter framed and on the wall. It was such a baby's letter and I could do it so much better now, I told Grandma that and offered to write her a new one."

"What did she say?"

"That she loves every one of my letters, that she has kept them all but this one will always be special because it was the very first."

"Did you hate it?" Lindsay asks in a whisper.

"Hate what?" Bobby replies, somewhat perplexed by the question and the tension he felt enter her body.

"Having that letter up on the wall for all to see?"

"Yeah, a little bit," he shrugs, having long ago dismissed the disconcertion from his thoughts, "Why?" he asks, still curious where this question came from.

Sighing, Lindsay says, "I had a similar thing happen to me. Once, when my grandfather visited, I gave him a picture that I'd drawn, I was only about four at the time. Years later, when I was ten, we went to stay at his place and there it was on the wall, I was mortified, it was awful, the colors all clashed and I hadn't even colored within the lines."

Bobby laughs, imagining his perfectionist Lindsay coming to terms with such an open display of her fallibility.

"Don't laugh at me," she warns him, trying desperately to keep a stern face.

"We're too much alike, sometimes, aren't we," Bobby says and Lindsay grins as she nods. "I like that idea, you know."

"What idea?" she asks.

"That we are alike."

"We are in little ways, but I still say you are more like Helen?"

"I am ~not~ like Helen!"

"So you say," she says disbelievingly, "But I've lived with both of you so I think I'm a better judge of that than you."

"Judge, jury and executioner," Bobby huffs making Lindsay laugh - he's so easy to tease.

To appease his sudden mope, she curls up closer to him, Playing her hands over his jaw as her leg slips between his. They stay in silence for a moment, watching each others eyes until the urge to kiss becomes too compelling to ignore. Their lips are just about to touch when a loud shriek is heard. They turn their heads in time to see the little boy shaking off seaweed that had suddenly been dumped on him while his attention was drawn to a coloring book. The little girl, and obvious culprit, is almost doubled over as she laughs at her younger brother's frenzied attempts to free himself. Her grandmother begins to reprimand her but, free now, the boy moves towards her and suddenly they are racing away over the sand. The grandparents look at one another and smile as they shrug, then look back to the children ready to call them back if they stray to far.

"She's more like Helen then me," Bobby says, Lindsay merely smiles, keeping her opinion to herself. Deciding to change the subject, Bobby asks, "Did you spend a lot of time with your grandparents?"

Remembering the agreement they'd made that they'll trade story for story, Lindsay uncurls from around Bobby's body so that they can talk. "I never met my mom's father, he died before I was born but we saw her mother all the time. She was there during ~the incident.~"

"So, she was there to hear her darling granddaughter's infelicitous remarks?"

"Yeah," Lindsay giggles, "Mind you, I think that what I said endeared me to her even more, like all mom's she didn't think any woman could be good enough for her son and was ~not~ fond of Celia ~at all~. Personally, I think that my uncle's just as much of a pain in the ass as his wife, but Grandma always blamed everything he did wrong on Celia. In her opinion if it wasn't for Celia then her son would still be perfect."

"Mom's are funny, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Lindsay chuckles, thinking of some of the amusing actions of her own: the nightly rituals she's go through when Lindsay was little that would have her laughing herself to sleep, looking forward to a new day and the next game Mommy would play. As mother and daughter they'd always been close, and, as Lindsay grew older, her mother always sensed when she was troubled, she soon learned what Lindsay wanted more than to have to talk it through was a long hug. A hug from Mom would always end in a whispered joke which meant more to Lindsay than anything else. She would turn to her mother and ask advice after she'd already made her decision, but in times of turmoil all she needed was to be held and feel secure.

"What about your dad's parents?" Bobby asks, unless prompted Lindsay rarely talks about her father now, Bobby knows that it is because she's still stinging a little over her parents separation.

"They moved to Florida when I was about three years old, so we only saw them a few times a year when they'd come to stay. My grandpa was hilarious, he was just like a big kid and he'd play right along with our games, tell great stories, sneak us presents and his pockets were always filled with candy. When they'd come and stay I'd love having friends visit because I was so proud of him, he'd make every day seem like a party. When I was ten I spent my summer vacation with them..." she sighs with the memory then looks into Bobby's eyes, "Until this week, it had been the best vacation of my life."

Bobby smiles, enjoying seeing Lindsay happy while talking about her family, lately when she speaks of them the smile rarely reaches her eyes. He watches as it fades, a look of melancholy takes its place and Bobby senses what he is about to hear next.

"He died less than a year later, he'd been sick while I was there, I think the reason I stayed with them was because he wasn't well enough to travel anymore and he wanted to spend as much time with us as he could before... I knew he was sick, but, I guess, I just never expected him to die, I was still naive enough to believe people get sick but they can always be made better, I was devastated when he died."

"Lung cancer?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"Back when I was smoking, you told me that you'd watched someone you love die from lung cancer..."

"I did? Wow, you really do remember everything I say."

Bobby smiles tenderly at her, "Yeah."

Lindsay returns his smile and says, "Ah, but how often do you do what I say?"

"Always!"

"Liar."

"Well I mean to do it, sometime I just get lost along the way."

Lindsay cuddles up, whispering that she'll draw him a road map next time. Bobby reminds her that it would probably mysteriously go missing as maps are wont to do around them. They are quiet for a while, just savouring their embrace and the comfort they feel with each other. Bobby senses that Lindsay is having a little cry over the grandfather that she'd loved so dearly and wishes he could allow himself to mourn those whom he had lost as freely as she does.

He waits until she's composed before saying, "That time when I was seven, and I stayed with my mom's parents, my grandma was dying but I didn't know it either."

Lindsay sits up and looks at him sadly.

"It seemed like we stayed there forever, it was only three weeks but for a kid that's a lifetime. It was such a happy time for me."

Although Lindsay doesn't comment, Bobby can see the question on her face.

"I didn't even know that she was sick. She didn't seem ill to me, she was always there, always happy. If I was playing outside she'd be sitting on the porch watching, if I was inside she'd be there too, she'd read me stories for what seemed like hours and she was always smiling, I didn't know..."

"You were young..."

"Yeah, it wasn't until years later that I realized in the whole time I was there I had never seen her walk, she'd just be there already when I arrived. Sometimes I'd be sent to another room to get something or sent outside to play and when I'd get back she'd be somewhere else. She used to have lots of naps, but I just thought that that is what old people did. Grandma and Grandpa were much older than Nanna and Pop, I thought they might be the oldest people in the world. I asked Grandpa if they were and he said that they were just about. Grandpa didn't sleep as much during the day but he'd sleep in front of the TV at night... I didn't know Gran was so sick."

Lindsay brushes her fingers over Bobby's cheek, smiling at the innocence of youth.

"I loved her a lot," Bobby whispers and Lindsay nods, she can see it in the way that he speaks of her in the same awe that he normally reserves for his mother.

"I remember, one day, they suddenly sent me to play at some other relative's place, I thought it was just going to be a quick visit but I ended up staying all day even into the night, I got scared they'd forgotten to come for me."

Lindsay bites on her lip, dreading what it is that she is about to hear, what it is that that little boy had had to face when he was brought back home but Bobby is silent as he stares out towards the horizon. Lindsay cuddles even closer, draping her arm over him, ready to hold her to him should he need consolation. "Did she die that day, Bobby?" she asks tenderly.

He shakes his head, "No, but she had taken a very bad turn and they knew that it wouldn't be much longer before... When I got back to the house, Mom said that I'd be going home on the train with Cousin Eamon in the morning. I didn't even know him and I certainly had no intention of going home yet, not when I was having so much fun there. If mom was staying then I was staying too and I wasn't going to take no for an answer. I got angry, I said I wasn't going, it wasn't fair, I hated her. I remember Mom was crying and it scared me, but, at the same time, I thought good, and that maybe now she wouldn't send me away..."

Bobby stops and sighs deeply, Lindsay can sense in him the disappointment that he feels at that way he'd behaved back then. She knows that he's forgotten that he was just a frightened child who didn't understand what was happening around him, and she especially knows that he always expects more from himself then it is sometimes possible to give. "You were hurting," she reminds him, "You were a child and you didn't understand why..."

"I know," he sighs, "Before I went to bed my grandmother called for me, it was the first time I'd ever seen her in bed, I didn't even stop to think why she'd been there all day, I just climbed up and started telling her how unfair Mom was being to me." Bobby stops and begins shaking his head, thinking of the fact that while his beloved grandmother had been dying he'd been wasting precious time throwing a tantrum.

Lindsay knows that he won't listen to her words, that he won't ever see his behaviour as anything less than unforgivable but, still, she's impelled to try and comfort him. Leaning up she places soft kisses on his jaw, each one inching closer to his lips until he turns and covers her mouth with his. She feels in the soft caress of his tongue the request to help him, to make this pain go away and she wants to. She wants nothing more than to give him the freedom to feel only joy but she can't change the past, she can only hope to help him see that, though he may have made mistakes in his life, it is only because he is human, he is fallible, just as they all are and there is nothing that he has ever done that takes away from the fact that he is a good man with a noble heart who she loves unconditionally.

When their lips part, their foreheads rest against each other, they remain still for a moment before Bobby nods slightly allowing Lindsay to know that her message has been received. "I know that I was just a kid, Lindsay," he sighs, "But..."

She pulls back and looks deep into his eyes, "No buts, Bobby... You were seven, for God's sake."

He nods, then smiles concedingly.

"Good," Lindsay whispers, feeling a smile of her own emerge. Her reaction turns Bobby's tentative smile into one of true happiness and he draws her back towards him. Lindsay rests her head against his chest, she listens to the heart that she loves as it beats beneath her. "What happened next?" she asks, curling her fingers into his, reminding him, in every way that she can, that he is no longer alone, that he now has someone to share his past with.

"Grandma told me that she needed me to be a big boy and make her proud of me. She said that my mom must think I am very grown up if she believes that I'm big enough to go on a train trip without her and that I mustn't be scared because if my mom thinks I'm big enough then I am." Bobby chuckles a little and says, "I was horrified that she'd thought I was scared and vehemently assured her I wasn't. She said it was good to know that I was a big brave boy because that meant that in the morning I'd do what I was told without making a fuss. She said that life is sometimes hard and sad and things happen that make us cry and hurt but she knows that I'm a big strong boy who'll do the right thing and be brave. That being hurt or disappointed won't stop me from doing what was right."

Lindsay sits up a little and softly strokes his face, almost in a whisper, she says, "She was trying to prepare you."

"Yeah, I think so but I wasn't listening."

"Yes you were, you remember it so you must have been listening, you just didn't understand the bigger picture."

Bobby smiles at her with a look of gratitude that she doesn't quite understand, then sighing he speaks again, "As much as I didn't want to go on that train, I knew I'd have to or they'd think I was scared, that I was just a little kid."

"When you knew you were really grown up," she teases as she cuddles back into him.

Bobby laughs, holding her tighter, as he says, "Yeah."

"So you went home on the train with your cousin?"

"I did because what Grandma said next really sold it. She told me that I had to go home because it was time that I went back to school. She said that I'd been away long enough to let the other kids catch up but if I stayed away any longer they'd have time to get ahead of me."

Lindsay smiles and raises on her elbow so that she can see Bobby's face. He grimaces at her, allowing her to see how much he disliked the thought of falling behind at school. "You believed her?" Lindsay says with an amused grin.

"Yeah, of course, she was my grandmother, my Grandma would never lie to me."

Lindsay kisses the tip of his nose and whispers, "Oh, of course not."

Smiling, Bobby says, "Mind you my first day back at school I got into a fight about it. Tommy Jefferson asked me where I'd been and when I said that I had had a holiday with my grandparents to give him time to catch up, he didn't like it and called me a liar. When I told him that it was true because my grandma had told me so, he said she was lying too... well, that was sacrilegious, so I punched him."

"You didn't?"

"I most certainly did."

Lindsay laughs, imagining a serious little Bobby stating that he was smarter than everyone as if it was an obvious fact and then becoming indignant at being disputed. Shaking her head, she says, "Considering how gullible we both were, maybe we should make a pact never to lie to our kids so we don't get them into trouble."

"Except about the good stuff," Bobby says, "Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy..."

"The Tooth Fairy isn't real?" Lindsay asks in mock horror.

Bobby laughs, then soothingly running his fingers over her cheek, whispers, "I'm fairly sure that she isn't, but I could be wrong."

Lindsay smiles, happy to have again heard Bobby's laughter, the sadness that had been evident in his look and tone had concerned her. She can feel that he is more relaxed now and hopes that he can continue the story without feeling the guilt that had been encroaching on him earlier.

"My grandma made me promise to give Mom lost of hugs and kisses, she told me that Mom would be very sad to see me leave, she said that Mom might cry and wonder if I wasn't really big and brave enough to do this, so I would have to show her that I was so that she didn't believe I was too little. I hadn't realized that it was a special thing to go home on my own until then."

"Were you scared on the train?"

"No, actually it was great, Eamon was funny, he made it a real adventure, he was only young, nineteen or twenty, something like that..." Bobby shakes his head, smiling at the memory, "He had so many stories, he made everything we did into a game, he was great. I've seen him a couple of time since, he's still a great guy, not surprisingly, he became an elementary school teacher, he's won awards and everything."

Lindsay nods, smiling at him, then looking up asks, "And your grandmother?"

Bobby sighs, "She died about a week after I left, my dad and I went back there for the funeral and then came home. Mom stayed for another month, just to help Grandpa out. I just remember being confused about where Grandma was, it was my first experience with death and I didn't really understand it, everyone gave me a different explanation and when I put them all together, nothing made sense. When no letters came from her I just felt more confused. Every night when Mom rang to say goodnight, I'd ask to speak to grandma too, she'd sigh and tell me, 'Bobby you know that you can't.' but I didn't know it."

"You must have been sad," Lindsay says as her hand soothingly strokes over him.

"I don't think it really hit me until we were back home again and Mom gave me a letter Grandma had left for me. In it Gran said that she was going to heaven and wouldn't be able to write to me anymore, that I had to always remember she loved me, I was her wonderful Bobby and she knew I'd grow up to be a fine man. She wished she could be there to see me all grown up but she couldn't. I think before that I'd thought she'd just gone somewhere and wherever that was she'd still write to me. Mom tried to explain it to me, but by now I was too angry to listen. I didn't understand why Grandma had to stop writing to me, everyone told me that heaven is wonderful and Grandma would be happy there. If it was a wonderful place, where she was so happy, then why couldn't she write to me? I kept writing to her, just because she'd forgotten me didn't mean I had to forget her too."

"Oh, Bobby," Lindsay sighs.

"Grandpa replied to me, I was so excited to see the postmark but devastated when I discovered who it was from. Can you believe that I almost threw it out without reading it I was so angry?"

Lindsay nods, knowing the impetuous nature and extent of Bobby's temper.

"I got all the way to the bin but then I couldn't throw it away. I loved Grandpa too, but it took me almost a week until I could bring myself to read it. He replied to every letter I wrote, even though at first I addressed them to her, he tried to take her place, you know, but it wasn't the same. About six months after Grandma died I overheard Mom and Dad talking about Grandpa coming to live with us. I set my heart on it happening, it was the best news I'd ever heard because, see, he used to have things in his letters like, 'your grandma wants you to,' 'your grandma told me this,' 'your grandma said that...' so I'd gotten it into my head that somehow he was still talking to her. Even though everyone said she was gone she couldn't be and Grandpa didn't believe it either. I felt like it had become our secret... I believed if he still had a connection to her, if he lived with us and he could still talk to her then I could as well."

Lindsay smiles compassionately at Bobby's innocence, knowing that it was destined to end in heartbreak. "Did he come to live with you?"

"No, it was my Mom wanting it not him. His life, his friends, his memories were all there, he didn't want to leave, it had been his home for almost seventy years."

Lindsay nods, understanding that sentiment, wanting to someday have a house to call her own, a house full of happy memories of their family growing up and of the love she and Bobby share. Bobby suddenly smiles and takes her hand, Lindsay sees in his eyes an expression of nervous delight which instantly makes her curious. "What... Bobby, what is it?" she asks.

"Grandma wrote you a letter?" he says, unable to hold back his grin.

Lindsay's mouth opens wide shocked by his words, and spellbound by his face, she can barely manage to whisper, "What?"

"Before she died my grandma wrote lots of letters to me and gave them to Mom to keep for special days, there was one for each birthday until I was twenty one, my graduation from high school and college, things like that, but there's also one for my wedding day and, uh... with that one, there's one for my bride... for you."

"Oh my God!"

Bobby smiles, pleased by the elation on Lindsay's face, seeing in her reaction to his news that she truly understands how much this means to him and that it is as equally important to her. He loves that this has rendered her speechless and draws her to him to show his delight in a tender kiss. She lays her head back against his chest and they hold each other close, silently contemplating that future day when they'll truly become one.

Lindsay feels Bobby twitch a little underneath her and hears a huff of laughter, she raises to look at his face and doesn't need to ask the question because he knows from her expression that she wants to know what is amusing him.

He brushes her hair off of her face, smoothing it behind her ear, drawing out the suspense as he grins at her.

"Bobbeeeee," she sighs and his fingers slide over her lips, feeling the warmth of her breath as she plaintively utters his name.

"I was just wondering," he softly says; his eyes become enraptured by the motion of his fingers as they play over her lips and his explanation stops.

"Wondering what?" she pleads and he raises his eyes back to hers.

"If that would be enough incentive for you to set a date?"

Although his voice is teasing, she sees behind his words a desire for them to finally commit to this path that they've chosen. "Hmmm maybe," Lindsay says enigmatically, in truth, right now she cannot recall what has been holding her back from taking this last step for so long. It hadn't been that she was ever in doubt, she'd bought the dress for God's sake, she fully intended to marry him but for some reason she's balked at setting a date. Whatever had been stopping her, she thinks it has worked its way lose now and left her feeling free, left her wanting to begin their future. She evades the question now though, not through lack of desire to take the step but because she doesn't want their vacation overrun with making wedding plans fearing that that will be a ticking time bomb, they both have such set ideas on what they want and yet, somehow, they have to meld them into the details of one day; an amicable compromise may be a big ask for two such stubborn people.

Bobby sees in her maybe the true answer of yes and knows that the day is drawing ever nearer when she will be his wife. He doesn't press her now, knowing that enough has been said on this in the past, she knows where he stands - eager to have this day occur - and for now he's happy with the knowledge that she is ready to give it thought. Wanting to show her that he's prepared to move on for now, he says, "You know, chances are, it says, treat him well or I'll haunt you for life."

Lindsay laughs, then says, "More like, my grandson's infuriatingly stubborn, run now while you still have the chance."

Bobby wraps his arms tightly around her and whispers, "Don't run."

"I won't," she promises, "I won't."

"Unless it's to me."

"What?"

"If you run ~to~ me, I have no objection."

"I guess I could do that," she says teasingly, but Bobby sees in her eyes the true answer of, 'Always to you, only you.'

"That's my girl."

"Your girl?" Lindsay says, rising and looking at him with an eyebrow raised high.

"My woman?" Bobby offers but the expression on her face shows that she is yet to be won over, "My hussy?" he tries and watches the corners of her mouth twitch as she fights to contain her expression. He knows that he'll hit the right name eventually, so keeps trying, "My lover... My Lindsay... My everything...?"

"I like that one," she says with a smile.

"My world?"

"Mmmm, even better." she whispers leaning towards him.

"My..."

Lindsay presses her lips to Bobby's, sometimes he just doesn't know when to stop talking, he is yet to learn to quit while he is ahead. She feels his lips smiling as they brush against hers and knows that he'll never quit when the alternative is her stopping him this way. She loves the tender way his mouth moves with hers, so soft, so warm, so Bobby - her man, her lover, her Bobby-boy. She grins against his lips and feels an answering chuckle from him, she isn't sure of exactly what he is laughing at but joins him in the activity anyway. Dropping her head onto his shoulder she enjoys the rocking of his body as merriment fills it.

As the mirth of the moment slowly fades, their hands reach for one another, fingers playing, fighting for supremacy before clutching tight to one another they join and come to rest on his chest. Lindsay leans forward and, whispering, kisses his thumb, his chin, his lips, "You are my everything... my world... I love you."

Bobby tries to let go of her hand so that he can caress her face but her hold on him is too strong, so instead he contents himself with kissing her and letting all the words he longs to say flow from him during this precious moment.

When Lindsay again rests her head on his chest, she releases her hold on his hands and his arms immediately embrace her. They lay together in silence, enjoying the warmth and sounds of the day and the total peace and relaxation that is so new to them. Hearing Lindsay's breathing deepening, Bobby shifts against her and huskily whispers, "Relaxed?"

"Hmm mmm," she replies, barely a breath away from sleep. Wanting to just lay there and listen to him talk, she asks, "So, uh... what happened to your grandpa after that? Did you ever see him again?"

"We visited once, all three of us. One summer, we went on a holiday to Pittsfield to visit one of Dad's brothers, we drove here and back, so we stayed a night with Grandpa each time to break the journey up a bit. And then he stayed with us one Christmas... No, actually it was longer than that, I think he came just before Thanksgiving and didn't leave until after New Year."

"How old were you?"

"Eleven," he replies before shifting so that he's sitting up, he reaches for his glass and takes a drink then placing it back down, looks across at her and says, "I remember being frightened of how frail he had become..." A small smile arises as he adds, "He had his ninetieth birthday while staying with us."

"Ninety? Wow."

"Yeah, we'd sit and talk for hours, he knew so much about everything and never got sick of me asking questions. He was a quiet man but if you'd get him talking about something he loved, he'd come alive."

Lindsay smiles, seeing that same spark of life in Bobby as he stares out at the horizon, listening once again to his grandfather speak.

Bobby sighs and turns to her, "He died that August..." turning back to the ocean he whispers, "Which was probably for the best."

Lindsay looks at him in confusion, sure that she must have misheard, "What do you mean, Bobby?" she asks.

He hangs his head low, blows out a long breath then looks across at her, "He loved my Mom, I mean... of course he did, she was his daughter, but... they were incredibly close, he used to call her His Angel, he'd always say that there was no smile more beautiful than his sweet Angel's. My Mom... my Mom was always smiling, and Grandpa, he'd put his hand on her cheek and say, 'Look at you, haven't you got it all.' He was so proud of her, so delighted that she was happy, that everything had worked out so well. Mom was diagnosed in September, she'd been feeling unwell for a bit but she'd been so busy travelling back and forth between her dad and us that she hadn't had time to give it much thought. He died believing that she had a long happy life ahead of her, had he lived another three weeks he'd have learned that she had terminal cancer... it would have broken his heart."

Laying her head against his shoulder and bracing her arm around his waist she whispers, "You're right, it was probably for the best." There had been enough hearts broken with that news, she's glad that at least one had been spared. She realizes now that this had been a dangerous topic to discuss. She hadn't planned it, it had just come out of the blue after watching he family on the sand. She'd known that Bobby didn't have any living grandparents and watching the children playing on the beach she'd just been curious about whether he'd had them as a child, what he'd been like as a child and the type of family life he'd had. Remembering the pain of her own grandfather's death, she's suddenly hesitant to ask him any more. She feels guilty right now for having the family that she does, for allowing herself to feel that life is unfair merely because her parents are no longer together when she should be feeling immensely lucky that they are both happy, healthy and alive.

After a long silence, Bobby says softly, "I think that my Nanna took it the hardest when Mom got sick."

Lindsay nods, surprised that he is still speaking of this and not willing to say anything that will make him stop. She had been thinking of trying to change the subject but to hear more is too tempting, especially as Bobby is volunteering it, so obviously wants her to know. As long as he is willing to talk, she'll listen but she won't push.

"They were really close, and... and I think Nanna had always had it in the back of her head that Mom would be there to look after Pop if anything should happen to her. The rest of the family had all moved away, Dad was the only one to stay in Boston... The idea of Mom being ill frightened Nan... I don't know if she knew that she too was sick or not, or whether she'd just sensed she didn't have long... she was like that, she got vibes about things... My Nanna died the year before Mom did, no one even suspected she was ill, the doctor just said it was age and her heart gave out... but I often wondered if... I don't know... I think that she never went to a doctor because she didn't want to know for sure that she was dying."

"Maybe."

"I just always had this feeling that she knew. She seemed to have everything organized so precisely, from a months worth of frozen meals for Pop to her funeral arrangements. She had to have known."

"You get vibes about things too, don't you?"

"Yeah, about work sometimes, but not like the things she did." Bobby says dismissing the notion.

Nodding, Lindsay looks at him, wondering if that is really true or is it just that his grandmother was more willing to listen to her intuition. Bobby has a sixth sense when it comes to cases that she has long admired; there is no rhyme or reason to it, he just feels things. She knows that he accepts those feelings when it comes to his work and wonders does he have them in life too and push them aside in real life because he can't point to facts or evidence to support his hunches. She has seen him look at her sometimes as if he is seeing more than she is saying, it's unnerving and now she wonders what is it that he has seen, how much of what she's tried to hide is visible to him, how much does he know and just remains silent about for her sake.

Seeing him looking at her now, Lindsay, feeling self-conscious, does what she'd told herself she wouldn't do, she deflects his observance by asking for more information, "And your Grandfather?"

"He survived a year without her, barely... he just got so frail, like half of his life had gone from him... He was still alive when my Mom died, but was pretty much house bound by that stage. He came to the funeral and he was so frail, he stayed with us that night and I remember after everyone had gone, he said, 'It's just us boys now, we have to show them how strong we are, how brave and make them proud.' I think he wanted to keep living because Nanna would have wanted it of him, but his heart just wasn't in it. He died in his sleep two months later."

Lindsay doesn't have words to offer him, nothing she can think of seems right, it all seems so trite and meaningless, hollow platitudes when Bobby deserves so much more. Instead of speaking she holds him tight, kissing his cheek softly, before burrowing against his chest. She's surprised when she hears his voice again.

"In the space of four years, I lost three grandparents and my Mom, I was scared of losing everyone that I loved, scared of being left alone, of losing Dad too... I was terrified of ending up alone, I'd started pulling away from Dad even before Pop died, subconsciously, I guess, I was preparing myself for the day that Dad would leave me too..."

Hearing in his tone anger at himself, she raises up, ready to come to his defense, "That's understandable, Bobby, you were hurting and protecting yourself..."

"That doesn't make it right! That's not what she..." He stands abruptly and Lindsay isn't sure what to say to calm him. "Can we just change the subject," he says walking to the railing, leaning against it and looking out at the sea.

"Of course," she agrees, wishing that she'd done so earlier.

"Actually, no!" he says, dismissing the idea with his hands, "Enough! I'm going for a walk."

"Okay," Lindsay whispers, holding back tears so that he won't see her anger at the pain she has caused him.

Bobby hurriedly walks down the stairs but then pauses a moment when he reaches the sand. Lindsay watches the fight go out of him and is surprised when he looks over his shoulder and asks, "Do you want to come too?"

"Yes," Lindsay answers, her heart bursting with love that he has offered the invitation, "But I won't."

Bobby turns fully to face her, surprised by her answer. She walks down to meet him on the sand, holding his hand and kissing his cheek, she explains, "I think you need time alone, Bobby." Looking into his eyes she says, "I... I'll be here when you get back."

He nods, smiling gratefully, raising her hand so he can kiss her fingers before he walks away, leaving Lindsay to berate herself for having pushed him so hard. She'd been so eager to delve into the history of her enigmatic Bobby that she had forgotten, in doing so, he'd need to relive past pain just to satisfy her curiosity. As with everything, too much can be bad for you and Bobby has run the gauntlet for her in these past few days. Lindsay decides not to ask him any more questions while they're here. He needs time to adjust to the progress he's already made because, without it, he's going to reach his limit and start to again turn away from her. She is terrified that in letting him go off on his own she is enabling him to rebuild the walls between them but she needs to let him go. She wants his walls to crumble when that is what he wants and not just because she's jack-hammering into them. She needs him to be comfortable with her, confident in her and not forced to do and be what she wants. She lets him leave now in a show of faith that she trusts him to come back to her but aches with each step away from her that she watches him take.

~~~~~

As Bobby walks along the sand he begins to understand Lindsay's impulse to run when things become too personal and accepts, for the first time, that it is his first instinct too. How often has he left under the pretence of needing to do something at the office, how often has he buried himself in work, pretending that it is by necessity and not that he isn't just hiding from Lindsay? He wonders now what right did he have to plead with her not to run from him, to stop hurting him that way when he's been doing it to her for just as long. As much as he recognizes that he is doing it again now, he can't go back, not yet, not with the pain of remembrance still so raw. Why did he talk about his past, why did he let himself remember those losses, the pain that never truly goes away? Oh sure, he'd promised her anything but did he really mean it at the time, had he really believed he could do this? He can't, he can't talk about them, about the pain of loss, it's just too hard? He should have kept it all buried where it belongs, why did he even try to let it out?

Because it's time, he hears and shakes his head disbelievingly, wondering, time for what? Time to let her see what an idiot he is?

Spying a pier he walks in that direction, ignoring the negative thoughts running through his head, he tries to quieten all the voices and focus only on arriving at his destination. He has no idea what he'll do once there, but for now, it's one step at a time because the big picture is too frightening to contemplate. In the big picture he can see that he has left Lindsay behind and knows that in doing so he has hurt her. He can't acknowledge that right now, clouded by his own emotion, he can only do what feels right to him and, at this moment, what is right is walking to the goddamned pier for God knows what reason.

Finally reaching the end of the pier, Bobby is met with a dead-end. All of his dogged determination has led him nowhere, he can't go forward, he can only go back, but to what? To Lindsay? To the look of pain and betrayal that he'll see on her face, despite her brave attempts to hide it, and the guilt of knowing that he is the reason it is there? He needs to do something to eradicate that look, he never wants to see it again. As he stands being buffeted by the breeze, listening to the ocean lapping against the pylons and the roar of the distant waves, the sensations hurt because the sounds that he wants to hear are Lindsay's, and it is her body that he wants brushing against him, rocking against him as she softly sighs his name while he fills her with his love.

He stands, now, with two choices, does he stay where he'd felt drawn to be or return to where he longs to be. He wants Lindsay, wants to be by her side but is struck with the thought, what does he have to offer her? He is a man so afraid of his past that he runs at the mere mention of it. She deserves someone who's willing to share himself with her, not a clam like him. He sits remembering the expression on her face when he has opened to her, the love and delight, the curiosity and excitement, he has promised to tell her everything. He's made tentative advances in that area, but at the same time they've been fairly calculated disclosures - placating her interest without revealing anything close to his heart - at least until today. Today he opened his heart, let her right in and it hurt. By God it hurt!

As he thinks over the revelations he recalls that she had listened intently and tenderly, she'd seemed to understand the significance of what he'd said, she didn't really push for more but just reminded him at times that she was there. She made him feel at ease, and he talked until, suddenly, he could talk no more and then she'd let him run. He knows she is waiting for him now, ready to hold him in her loving arms as they forge their life together. As much as he wants to return to her, to be with her, tonight something holds him back, but what? Why doesn't he want to return home? Why stay out here, why now?

He sits, looking out at the ocean, wondering where the answers to these questions lie. The longer he sits and waits, the more questions arise to riddle his mind with not an answer in sight. After all these years why does it still hurt so much? He was a child when all this happened, it was more than half his life ago and yet he still feels it as deeply today as he did then. When will it ever stop? He remembers hearing over and again that in time it will get better, he's given it time, hell, it's been a long time, and it isn't better, it hurts, dammit, it hurts. Why does love have to hurt so damn much? Why is he letting himself in for more heartache? Why is he taking the risk of letting her into his heart when he knows that losing her will break it? And why is he acting in a way most likely to drive a wedge between them, why is he turning from her, shutting her out, again?

He knows that he loves Lindsay beyond reason, he knows that she makes him incredibly happy and yet there is something holding him back from experiencing this miracle to its full extent - guilt, sorrow, remorse, anger? What is it exactly that he is clinging onto and why? Why keep it, why let it consume him when there is so much more that he could be if he'd just let it go? Why can't he let the past go? He knows that he needs to, everyone knows that he needs to, he's been told so by every person that he's ever let get close to him, his friends, family, his priest and especially Lindsay in frustrated moments, but knowing and doing are such vastly different concepts.

Spotting a small pile of shells, Bobby shuffles his fingers through them, trying to distract himself from his thoughts by examining his surroundings. It doesn't work, everything reminds him of what he needs to do and the way that he's failing those he loves. He looks at the tiny shells, their centers turned in on themselves, the tightly coiled patterns that are a perfect representation of himself. That's his heart, twisted so tight, holding onto that which is gone and letting nothing else in. He doesn't want to be like that anymore, he wants to be open, wants to hold Lindsay there but first he needs to make room for her, he needs to say goodbye to some people so that he can give himself to her fully. But how do you do that? How do you say goodbye?

Picking up the largest shell in the pile, Bobby holds it to his ear listening to its secret sound. 'Angel's voices,' he hears his mother say and smiles remembering that angels were his mother's explanation for everything. Sinking into his memory, he finds himself at the kitchen table after a cold and miserable walk home from school, not warm yet from the hot chocolate his mother has made for him, he asks despondently, "Why does it have to snow, Mom?"

"Because the angels think it's pretty," she tells him sitting down next to him with her own steaming cup of tea.

"But my feet get cold and wet," he says, wriggling his toes near the heater trying to warm them up but they still feel like ice.

"Angel's feet never touch the ground, Bobby, they fly, they only see how beautiful it is in the sky as it falls around them."

Bobby sighs, thinking it isn't fair that angels get to fly and he doesn't. He's six now, that means he's big, shouldn't he get to do everything too? Why can't he fly and keep his feet warm? Not even the cookie his mother passes him can bring a smile to his face today, instead he ponders on her words and eventually asks, "Why don't angel's touch the ground, Mom?"

Smiling at his incessant inquisitiveness, she says, "Because they're too filled with happiness, their joy makes them float in the air."

Bobby nods, twisting his mouth as he thinks over this new information, wondering if when he is seven he'll know all the answers like his Mom does, she'd promised lots of things would happen when he was a big boy of seven and he's almost there because he's six now and he knows that seven is next. As usual, after a moments careful consideration, he comes up with another question, "Aren't you happy, Mom?"

"Of course, I'm happy, Bobby, I'm very happy, I have everything I've ever wanted."

"Everything?" he asks in astonishment, enunciating every syllable in skepticism

"Yes, everything," she softly sighs, rising from the table and walking to the window to watch the snow fall, a serene smile on her face.

Her response only reinforces how cruel the world is to Bobby, he has most of the things he wants but not everything. He'd do anything to have a bike like Charlie Reis, his bike has gears and everything, ~and~ it was bought new just for him, it hadn't been someone else's first. Bobby has a bike, it's good, it goes fast but Alan had it first and his three siblings before him. It looks old and has marks where a girls basket had once hung, Charlie always teases him about it, pointing out all the things that Bobby's bike is missing.

Bobby looks at his mother again, she was smiling as she'd sipped her tea and, now, tea finished she's looking out of the kitchen window at the softly falling snow and quietly humming, he thinks she's happy, he doesn't remember her ever not being happy, but then... "Mom, if you're so happy, why don't you fly?"

She turns around to face him and Bobby sees the look on her face that all adults get just before they send him to ask his questions of someone else, but Mom's the only adult here now and he has lots of questions needing answers today. His mother places her empty mug in the sink, then begins removing vegetables from the fridge, getting ready to start preparing their evening meal. Bobby waits, he knows that he'll get his answer, he always does. As she begins peeling the potatoes, she says, so quietly that he almost doesn't hear her over the sound of the toy car he's running over the table top, "Sometimes I do fly."

Bobby quickly looks up at her, "You do?" he asks, eyes wide in surprise.

"Yes, sometimes I'm so happy that joy lifts me off the ground, I don't fly as high as angels do, Bobby, because they have wings which help them go even higher than happiness can make you go, but, when your daddy is home and I hear my two boys laughing and playing together, your laughter fills me up and makes my feet float in the air."

"I've never seen you do it," Bobby says, not believing in something that he hasn't seen.

Placing the potatoes into a pot on the stove, she returns to the table to beginning chopping the other vegetables, with a sigh she looks at her Doubting Thomas and says, "Sometimes I fly and sometimes, Bobby, I get annoyed that the floor is muddy, that the house is a mess, that I'm tired and the dishes still haven't been done and all my grumpy thoughts make my feet stick hard to the ground."

Bobby isn't as interested in that statement, he knows what being stuck feels like, he wants to know more about flying, "Is flying fun, Mom?"

"It's wonderful... the most wonderful feeling," seeing his envious look, she adds, "Bobby, sometimes you fly too, I've seen you having so much fun that your feet leave the ground..."

"Really?" he says astonished, and much happier for his mom to fly if he can do it too, he hates missing out on things or others being able to do what he can't.

His mother nods and smiles, "You just need to be happy, Bobby, think good thoughts, it's always better to look for the beauty in life and fly than to see the troubles and get stuck on the ground."

"I will, Mom," he says, climbing off of his chair and running to his room, determined to play with all of his favorite toys so that he'd be so happy he will fly and today he'll pay attention, he'll know when it happens now that he knows he should look out for it, no more missing out on the good things in life.

Bobby smiles at his younger self, he remembers having bounded down the stairs when his father had come home, jumping from the third last one into his dad's arms and being flown around the house, zooming in and out of rooms, seeing his mother laughing in the doorway and feeling like there were no hands holding him at all, calling to her, "Look, Mom I can fly!" His arms outstretched like a plane and his dad humming like an engine as he propels his son through the house.

Bobby's amused now at the fact that he is nearing forty and misses what used to be a part of his nightly routine, Dad would come home and fly him around the house until settling him at the table where they'd eat their meal and talk of their day. Good times, he thinks, remembering too that eventually he became too big for flying and instead would spend every free moment practicing pitching to his dad, determined that he'd one day make it as a pitcher for the Red Sox. He never realized that dream but he's a heartbeat away from achieving the only other one he's had. To meet and marry a woman who could make him fly. He'd marry her today but she seems less inclined to rush into it. He has often wondered what is holding her back but he sees it clearly now, it is him, his reticence has her frightened of committing her life to him, even though she wants to.

He realises that he has been stuck on the ground now for over half of his life and, worst of all, he'd grown comfortable with that until Lindsay had come into his life, tempted him to fly again and showed him all that he has been missing out on. She taught him how to fly and he taught her how to slam back down to earth, some gratitude that had been. He sees now that she is afraid that he'll never let himself be happy and, in consequence, he'll drain it from her too. She loves him and wants him, of that he has no doubt, but who could blame her for not wanting to commit to a life like that, of enforced misery... except she has. She promised to be there for him and asked for his promise in return. This was a promise given willingly because, no matter what, he wants her by his side for life.

What he'd said to her earlier had been true; she has changed a lot since he's known her, she's become harder, more reserved, more cynical, and though he doesn't take full responsibility for these changes, he knows that he's played a part in molding who she has become. He loves her, that will never change but he wishes, for her own happiness, that she could have some of her old self back again. He closes his eyes, shaking his head as he thinks of what their life has done to them and what they'll struggle through to keep living it. He remembers her crying in his arms at the thought of losing herself and becoming just, 'some lawyer who gets people off.' He'd wanted to kiss her that night, wanted to tell her how much more than that she was to him but she had pulled away, taking only the comfort of his arms. He should have kissed her, he should have told her, so much time missed when they could have had each other, when they could have been happy.

Above all those thoughts mostly he wonders, how did he ever forget the lesson that his mother had taught him? When did he stop looking at the beauty in life and concentrate only on the pain? He has so much, he has been so lucky and yet his losses are what he focusses on; it is the losses that he's incurred that seem to most define him. He let himself become dome tragic hero struggling on despite the adversity of life but that is not who he is - not anymore. Bobby decides, there and then, that it is time to say goodbye to sorrow, time to close that chapter in his life and begin a new happier one because it isn't fair on Lindsay and it isn't fair on himself to let his past destroy what they have together and what they could be. She's already made him a better man, helped him change and achieve so much but this last change he has to make for himself and he has to make it now.

Bobby watches the waves crashing on the shore, over and over and with each one he releases a memory that he has held onto for too long, a regret that has taken the life from him, clipped his wings and held him down. He starts off small, throwing away the easier moments, childhood jealousies, teen-aged annoyances and petty grievances that should long have been let go. As he moves to adulthood regrets become harder as the waters become murky, shady deals, lost cases due to errors, misjudgements and prejudices, people lost through misunderstandings and a pride that wouldn't allow him to back down. Soon though the tears that he sheds are for the heartbreaks, the moments he's never wanted to face again, the loss of five lives and the dented trust of a friend during the Isakov debacle. Then the true losses in his life begin to surface, the people he'd loved so dearly and had wanted to hold onto for just a little bit more. He's never been good with goodbyes but, now, faced with a life of holding back or the prospect of giving himself completely to Lindsay, he's ready to try it.

He stands up, suddenly feeling the need to stand tall and proud; if he stopped to think about it he'd realize he's acting as though offering a closing argument, but he doesn't think about it, he just does what feels right. Taking a deep breath, he places his hands on the railing, looks out at the horizon and begins to speak.

"Grandma, you made a little boy grow up believing that he was special, believing that he could do or be anything in his life if he chose to, you made me want to be as wonderful as your eyes told me I was. I did try to be good, to be big and brave, to never make Mom cry, to always do the right thing whether it was the easy thing to do or not, sometimes... Gran, sometimes I failed in that but I hope that you've always been proud to call me your Darling Boy. I miss you, the letters you've sent are all faded now as I've read them too many times to count, they've saved me a number of times, they've helped me make decisions in my life, they've made me stop and think what would it be that you would want me to do. I haven't always been able to do what you'd want but I think you knew that. I don't know if it's true but the stories you'd tell me, I see in them now a sense that you knew I'd chose a hard life, that I'd have to dig deep to find the courage to go on and you showed me how to do that. The little boy in your stories had the qualities that I need now as a man.

"The wishes that you'd had for me, Gran, the things in your later letters that you said you hoped I'd find as a man have come true. I've found a wonderful woman to share my life with, she shows me how to find courage, she holds me when life gets too hard and every day she inspires me to be a better person. She's beautiful, Gran, so beautiful, I know that you'd love her... I love her. I've told her you've written a letter to her, because she is to become my wife, I can't wait for her to read your words, for you two to meet at last. I miss you and I love you... I'm gonna say goodbye now but you know that that doesn't mean I won't think of you often, that I won't read your letters still, it just means... I'm letting go of the pain, Gran, I'm letting go of sorrow so that I can be the best man that I can be, so that I can give myself fully to Lindsay, it's what she deserves, it's what I need. So, I guess it's goodbye now, Grandma, I love you, I always will... I..."

The determined stance that Bobby had held himself in wilts a little as he draws to a close, his head hangs low as he takes a number of deep breaths, his hands still clutch the railing tight until, finally, he relents and allows one to rise and wipe an errant tear away. 'That wasn't so bad,' he tells himself as he closes his eyes and prepares another goodbye. After a long moment of contemplation, he raises his head and again softly speaks.

"Grandpa, you were always such a quiet, gentle man, so modest and unassuming, so content to sit back and smile at the world and the life surrounding you. I know how much it hurt you when Gran died, how lonely you must have been and yet, when you heard about a little boy who was hurting, you rose above it and tried so hard to fill her place. I don't think you ever realized how much it meant to me to receive ~your~ letters, how grateful I was to have ~you~ as my grandpa. You tried so hard to fill Grandma's shoes that you would apologize to me for not being her, for not being as funny and witty, for not telling as elaborate stories but I never wanted you to be her. I regret that I never thought to tell you how much I loved you for being you and that you were never second best in my eyes.

"You never tired of my incessant questions, I'd make as list each day of the things I needed to ask you because I thought no one on earth knows as much as you. You told me white hair was a sign of wisdom and yours was the whitest I'd ever seen. In all the years we wrote to one another, you never once left a question unanswered, no matter how bizarre it was, I hope that I gave you a few laughs, Grandpa. I remember the way you'd smile when I'd come to sit next to you, you made me feel special, like you really wanted to hear what I had to say, I hope you knew how much you meant to me, I hope I showed it, even though I never said the words. I've found someone who makes me feel special, whose eyes brighten when I'm near. I've tried telling her that the gray hairs I'm getting are a sign of wisdom, she laughs and tells me I'm just getting old. I wish you could meet her, she has the most beautiful smile. I kept things from her, especially about family but from now on she's going to get to hear all the stories.

"Remember that day we went fishing, except all I ever managed was to tangle the lines, you were so patient with me and though we were supposed to be fly fishing we ended up just leaving the lines in the water while we sat and talked. I'll never forget the way that you talked to me that day, man-to-man you said and it made me feel so grown up; there were almost eighty years between us but I didn't feel them that day. I remember too that through some miracle my line caught a fish, I remember it as enormous but I'm sure it was the tiniest mangiest fish that has ever been caught and the fish that everyone claimed we ate for dinner that night was more likely chicken. When we arrived home you were so full of praise for me, calling me the most natural fisherman you've ever known. Grandpa, I bet it won't surprise you to learn that I've never caught another one in all the times I've tried.

"I hope the fishing is great where you are, Grandpa. Kiss your girl for me, I know you're happy now with Grandma by your side again. I know what it is like to have someone who completes you, my girl's name is Lindsay, she's my life. If I can make her half as happy as you made Gran then I've done something right in my life. Look after Mom for me, make sure she's still smiling and tell her Dad and I are doing fine, we've had a man-to-man talk and everything's okay. I miss you everyday, Grandpa, there's still so much that I need to know but, I guess, the point in life is to discover the answers for ourselves. We'll compare notes one day, but, until then, thank-you for being so wonderful, I love you, Grandpa... goodbye..."

Bobby blows out a long breath, turns from the railing and begins to walks away. He crosses to the other side of the pier, resting there until ready to take the steps required to return and speak again.

"Nanna, you were such a whirlwind in all our lives, always so busy, always on the go, helping people, always doing something for someone. I became a lawyer because of you, Nan... in a round about sort of way. I always loved when I had no school and I'd get to spend a day with you because, no matter what we did together, you made it seem so special. But there was one day that will always stand out the most for me - it must have been a bad week to belong to our parish because suddenly it seemed like every family had a disaster happening. In your typical way, you'd volunteered to help out, you had so much on your plate already that having me tag along couldn't have been easy for you. You never made me feel like a burden, you apologized saying that it would be a boring day for me but if I was good you'd buy me a chocolate Sundae when we were done. You always knew the way to my heart was ice cream smothered in chocolate syrup, Nan, but as delicious as that Sundae was, and it was good, what I'll always remember most is how proud I was of you.

"That day taught me something, it taught me what I wanted to be. I remember so many times hearing someone say to you, 'Thank you, I don't know what I would have done without you...' and I just knew that they meant it because behind their tears was a grateful smile. Their faces Nan, for a long time after that day all I could think of was their faces and I knew that I wanted to be the type of person who could cause a look like that. I wanted to help people whose lives were falling apart, I wanted to show them someone was on their side. I'd never known what it was like not to have somewhere to turn, I had Mom and Dad, you and Pop, I was surrounded by love and for the first time I realized that not everyone was as lucky as I was. I wanted to give something back, I wanted to be the type of person that people who had no one could turn to. I wanted to be like you.

"For a long time I didn't know how I was going to do this, then one night after visiting dad at work, I remember telling him that I thought lawyers were horrible. Where we live, if you meet someone you say hello but there... where Dad worked... some of them treated him like he wasn't even there. Dad told me that things aren't always what they seem, he said that lawyers are very busy men with peoples lives in their hands, that if it seems like they are preoccupied it is because they spend all their time helping others and they probably have someone's livelihood on their mind, and that isn't it better that they think about how to help people than to worry about remembering to say hello to everyone they see. I can see now that you taught Dad to see the best in people, just as you taught me, I struggle with it more though but then that's because I know how wonderful he is and hate to see him looked down on.

"That night, after talking with Dad, I realized that I'd be a lawyer one day, not like the ones at Dad's firm but the type of lawyer who'd fight for the underdog, who'd help those who truly needed it, the people that everyone else had turned away, who had no where else to go and needed a friend almost as much as they needed a lawyer. I realized that that was the way in which I could be like you, Nan, and I've tried to live up to that dream. I know that I've made mistakes along the way, gotten lost, taken wrong turns and made a lot of bad decisions and shady deals but I've done good things too.

"I've helped a lot of good people, Nan, and I'll always remember the first time that someone looked at me the way that I'd always seen them look at you. That was the day that I truly felt like I'd made it. Money, prestige, respect, it's all nice, but knowing that you've made a difference in someone's life... that's what it's all about, the feeling you get when you've saved an innocent, nothing can better that. That's why I do it, that's why no matter how hard it gets I keep going because around the next corner could be another one I can save.

"I never got to tell you this, Nan, so I'm saying it now. You left us so fast, one day you were there making a casserole for us to eat and the next day you were gone. I didn't know when I kissed you goodbye that afternoon that it would be for the last time, there is so much I would have said if I'd known that I'd never get another chance. I hope that you're hearing me now, and that you'll always known how much you mean to me and how proud I've always been to be ~your Bobby~. I love you, I'll never forget the life that was in the room whenever you were in it, I miss you and I'll look after Dad for you, I promise, and if I slacken off Lindsay will soon bring me back into gear. I'm going to marry her and make her as happy as Pop made you, that's my promise to both of you. She's a lot like you, she has a beautiful, kind, generous heart and luckily she has let me into it. I'm saying goodbye today because I want to let her into mine, so, bye Nan, rest now, you've earned it."

Bobby doesn't bother wiping away his tears anymore, or trying to regain control before starting again, the point of this exercise had been to let the pain escape, so he does, unequivocally.

"Hey Pop, you always told me that there were three things that a man must do with his life, love his family, honor God and root for the Celtics. The Celtics are breaking our hearts again lately, I know that you'd have the solution to all their woes, if only they'd listen. I always listened, Pop, even though I doubt that you believed I did. I remember you used to always say, 'Make sure you marry a girl who loves basketball, Bobby, or she'll be shaking her head at you for six months out of every year.' I confess, Pop, that I didn't follow this advice, I found myself a girl, a wonderful girl but... unfortunately she isn't interested in basketball, not even one bit. I've tried, believe me, I've tried but still not even a spark of interest.

"I guess I followed your example and not your words, after all you and Nan managed to survive forty-eight basketball seasons without her disinterest coming between you, so all hope isn't lost for Lindsay and I yet. God, I wish you could meet her, I know you'd both love her... I love her. I never knew that love would feel like this, it's so exciting and terrifying all at once, but then, at the same time it's comforting, like it's home no matter where we are as long as we are together, I can't imagine my life without her now, and I don't want to.

"Remember when you'd help me with my homework? You'd always tell me that the reason I wasn't understanding it was that I wasn't looking at the big picture, you'd tell me to stop looking for the answer, to step back until I could see all of the pieces and then I'd realize that it made sense, only then would the answer be clear. I always had trouble stepping back, didn't I, Pop. After you were gone, for a long time I refused to take that step back, I'd just rush into things then have to bail myself out of trouble somehow.

"Pop, you'd be muttering about my stubbornness if you could have seen how long I resisted taking that step with Lindsay, I paid the price, I almost lost her because of it... but I won't ever make that mistake again. I thank God every day for giving her to me and I thank her for putting up with me. She makes me see the whole picture, she helps me stop, just as you did, until I discover the truth. I see things so differently now because of her and I know what I have to do with my life and the changes I need to make to my priorities. But, most of all, I know that I have to let go of all that is holding me back. It won't be easy, but you always taught me that the easy thing to do was rarely the right thing.

"I try to remember all of the lessons that you taught me, I'm trying to be the man you wanted me to be, I hope I am making you proud of me... I wish... you made it seem so easy, Pop, I wish I was more like you. You were a great man and if I can be half as good as you were then I've done well with my life. I miss you and I won't ever forget what you taught me, this I promise. I love you, see you in the playoffs."

Bobby pauses now as he needs to make a decision, he has two people left that he needs to talk to and both of them are conversations that are going to be hard to say. Making a decision, he rests his elbows on the railing, clasps his hands together and, looking down, begins to speak softly.

"Tia, it has taken me almost twenty years to admit that you were right, I'm sure my stubbornness doesn't surprise you. You knew me so well and I know now that you were coming to me not because you believed my words but because you felt my pain and, as always, wanted to ease it. You were my crutch, the only one I could turn to, who I had turned to, I don't... I understand now why you needed a break, a chance for some freedom. Neither of us were ready for marriage, I was just a boy hiding from the future by clinging to what felt safe and you were a girl too kind to force him to let go. I loved you and I always will but if I hadn't been so selfish, if I hadn't... I should have let you go, I know that now, I should have let you live the life you wanted instead of trying to tie you to mine.

"I know now that the love we shared, it... there's more. I'm in love now, T, she's my perfect other half, she fills the gaps in me that no-one, not even you, could ever do. You knew that, I see it now, you knew we were pretending, we were children playing at love, I'd lost so many people that I needed to hold you too tight and you... you were so caring that you let me do so. I'll never forgive myself that because of me you didn't have the chance to find the person you were meant to be with, to find the one who makes you whole. I'm sorry for stealing your life, I was so selfish, I was wrong, T, I was frightened... I needed you and you paid the price.

"I think about you a lot, about why things happened the way that they did. Lindsay said something the other day... that's her name: Lindsay. We're going to be married, one day, or so she keeps promising me. I'm waiting for her, T, see how much I've grown! I'd marry her today but I'm waiting for her to be ready. Anyway, she said... um, okay, I'm probably not going to get this right, but, basically, what she said was that maybe things had to happen this way, maybe you didn't belong in this life, that in a way you were like my guardian angel - you were here to help and protect me while I needed it but then the time came for you to leave - that for you to find the other half of your soul you had to go then or you'd miss your chance, and somewhere out there... you have found who you were always looking for, like I've found Lindsay...

"See... I knew I'd muck it up, it sounded so much better when she said it. I don't know if I believe it, it's a nice idea, I guess. I doubt that she believes it either, she's just always trying to make me feel better about myself, trying to ease my pain. She worries about me a lot and I know that that's my fault, I keep a lot of things from her, I kept you from her for too long. It has just been so long since I've had someone to confide in that I've forgotten how to do it. You were good for me, Tia, but losing you... the guilt I feel, I've carried this for too long now, I've let it shape who I am and if I'm going to live my life, if I'm going to be a good husband, a good father, a good man, even, then I need to... I need to accept that what happened was a terrible mistake that can never be changed, but that it is also something that I need to put behind me and move on from... I need you to forgive me. Lindsay says that you have, but I just don't know... You had so much life and I took it...

"I'm sorry, please believe that, if you believe nothing else please know that I would never have intentionally hurt you. Never! Tia, I need to say goodbye, I should have said it to you a long time ago when you asked me to, I didn't, but I need you to hear it now. I love you, T, you'll always have a special place in my heart... and I know you're one of the brightest stars shining in heaven. I miss you. I hope... I hope that what Lindsay said is true and you are as happy as I am, you deserve to be. T, I took a lot from you and never gave you a thing in return... Today I'm going to give you the one thing you asked of me, the thing I selfishly refused, today, T, I'm ready to say goodbye, to let you go."

Although Bobby has stood for all his goodbyes so far, this time he feels the need to sit. Resting his head and back against a pylon, he draws his knees up and looks not at the ocean but in the direction of the beach-house. He wonders about Lindsay, what she is doing and feeling, but he can't go back yet as he still has unfinished business to attend to where he is. As the waves crash against the distant shore words pour out of him, his voice as he starts is not that of a strong confident man but of a penitent boy.

"Mom, I think that I've failed you, I know for sure that I've let you down. We talked about so many things while you were ill, I made you promises, Mom, but... I didn't keep them all. I never realized that it would be so hard after you were gone, I never knew I would hurt so much, I mean, I knew that losing you would be hard, but the extent... God, I never expected that... I ached, Mom, so hard that it felt as if my life had ended too. I know that I promised you I'd take care of Dad and I haven't... I'm sorry, I never talked to him about it, Mom, I never turned to him and I was never there for him, it just... for both of us it hurt too much to face life without you, it was easier to pretend that we were okay, to pretend we were doing fine, Dad at one end of the house and me at the other.

"Mom, I think that he lost us both when you died and I'm so sorry because I know that you'd been afraid that that would happen. I promised you it wouldn't, I promised you I'd be strong and brave, like you knew I could be, like the good man you said I was becoming... But, Mom, I wasn't strong or brave or good, I lied and hid from it all. I forced myself not to feel it, not to face it and I've allowed that denial to go on ever since. I'm gonna fix things, Mom, because I'm tired of pretending and, the truth is, I've found someone who won't let me do so anymore. I'm in love, Mom, I'm going to be married and she's all you ever dreamed of for me... and more. She's a blessing, I know that you'd say she has been sent from the angels because that's how she makes me feel.

"Mom, now I'm feeling things that I never thought I could, wonderful things, I... Since you've been gone I've been so afraid, I never wanted to let anybody get close to me, I turned everyone away, but thanks to God.... Lindsay refused to go. I want her, she has become so much a part of me that I need her, I love Lindsay like I never knew I could love anybody. I've been trying to say goodbye to everyone but all I seem to be doing now is talking about her. I feel like my life is beginning again, Mom.

"I wish much that you could meet her, know her like I do, I know you'd love her too, you'd see her for who she is, you'd see behind the strong front she puts up and recognize the wonderful woman inside. I made a big mistake, Mom, for a long time I let her believe that she could never be as important to me as you are. I didn't mean to but, in trying to protect myself, I hurt her badly, I feared I'd hurt her irreparably but I went to her, opened my heart and pleaded for her to return. I keep making mistakes and she keeps forgiving me, she keeps taking me back and having a faith in me I surely don't deserve... I wish you were here, Mom, I wish you could set me straight so I wouldn't hurt her again. Love hurts and you never warned me about that.

"She loves me, I know that, and I love her and it terrifies me. She's... I don't know, where would I start? She's just... she's everything, I ache when I think of her but it's an ache that I never want to lose... and when she's with me, when I can see her, talk to her, touch her, I'm... I feel... I feel everything. Mom, she makes me speechless. Can you believe that? Me? Speechless? When I'm with her I'm so awed that I just hold her and hope that my arms can say what I can't.

"I remember as a kid, after supper you'd put on the radio, I'd sit at the table doing homework, you'd listen to music and sometimes you and Dad would start to dance. The song would end and you'd sit down and start talking and the two of you would be in the middle of a conversation. I never knew where those conversations started, you'd just seem to pick them up from nowhere. I used to wonder if, maybe, when you hold one another the words would just flow without being spoken. So I hold on tight to Lindsay and hope that she hears me, I think she does, because she stays, Mom, after everything I put her through, she loves me still.

"She's wonderful, I can't say that enough because she is. You should see Dad with her, he smiles again, Mom, real smiles. They're so close, like they've known each other for years when really it's little over year since they met. The first time she met him she knew exactly what to say to Dad to make him feel loved. He was smitten from the moment they met, I was too really, she's like that, you think, 'Wow she's nice,' and then all of a sudden it hits you that she's the most important person in your life. The three of us... we're a family, for so long I felt alone, but not anymore. Dad and I are even starting to talk, not real talk, yet, but it will be, and soon, I promise you that. And so does Lindsay because she's the one bringing us closer together. I used to see Dad every Sunday and we'd go through a ritual of Mass and lunch and not much else, but now I feel like I'm getting to know him every time we meet. Sometimes Lindsay comes, sometimes she doesn't, sometimes I stay all day, sometimes I don't but it's real now. My life, our lives are so different because of her.

"We want children, Mom, so one day soon I'll be a dad, can you believe it? Your little boy is planning on becoming a father, I want to be as wonderful a father as my own. I know that Lindsay is going to be a fantastic mother, I know it! Our children... they're going to be so lucky to have her as their mom, she's... I love her so much. I'll be a good father because of her because she won't let me be anything less. I just hope that I'll be a better father than I have been a son, although I plan to become a better son than I have been too. From today things will change: I'm going to take better care of my family, I'm going to stop neglecting Lindsay and Dad and I'm going to be the man that I promised you I'd be.

"I'm sorry I let you down, but I'll do it right now, Mom, I'll make you proud of me yet. I've tried to say goodbye to people today, but... I don't think... I don't think that I could ever say goodbye to you. I tried to say it that day, Mom, as I reached out my hand, I tried to say it but I couldn't, I couldn't accept that it was goodbye, I turned of the machine, I wanted an end to your suffering but, deep down, I was still expecting a miracle. I don't know what I expected to happen, after all we'd been through, I just... I just couldn't accept... I couldn't let myself believe it was really goodbye... but you did die, Mom, and I have to... I have to stop trying to change that moment, I have to stop wishing that there was something else to be done because there isn't, it's over, you're gone and nothing can change that... but, what aches the most is that I took you're life, Mom, I know it was what was needed, I know I saved you from more pain but the burden of living with this... it is so hard to carry alone. I'm afraid to share it Mom, Lindsay knows what I did but the idea of telling her how I feel about it, I just don't know where to start... but I'll find that place, I'll find the time because I have a life to lead and I want to start doing so now.

"This isn't goodbye, Mom, because to be honest what I've needed for so long has been to talk to you. I hadn't been able to bring myself to do it before, it would be like admitting you weren't there, but this feels good, it feels right, I feel like you are hearing me, Mom, I feel you with me and I have so much to say to you. I've said goodbye to everyone else, but, to you Mom, I want to say hello, I'm going to let you back into my life, I'm going to stop shutting down every time you are brought into the conversation, and, most importantly, I'm going to share you with Lindsay because I want her and our children to know you as I do, I want her to know how wonderful you are and that she doesn't have to compete with you for my love. She never had to and I was wrong to make her feel that she did. I'm changing today, Mom, I'm opening up because I don't want to hide anything from anyone anymore. I love you so much and talking to you has been more amazing than I believed possible. You'll be hearing from me again soon, this I promise, so, Mom, hello."

Finally drained of words and emotion, Bobby closes his eyes and sits in silence, the voices in his head are no longer taunting him. When he feels himself begin to shiver with the onset of night, he stands and begins to return home. He feels free but at the same time he feels empty. He feels lost and unsettled but strangely at peace. He longs to see Lindsay again, but he's afraid to be in her presence. He has cleared his heart to make room for her but isn't quite ready for those gaps to be filled again yet. He needs time to recover first, time to stay in limbo between the old and new Bobby. Despite his previous words, he isn't quite ready to live just yet and is afraid that, if pushed by Lindsay, he may retreat back to who he has been. As he takes each step towards the house he becomes more assured that all will be fine, Lindsay knows him, she let him come out here alone, she knew that was what he needed, she'll know too that, though he has returned, he still needs time to think, time to say goodbye to himself before he can become the man he wants to be.

~~~~~~~

Sitting alone out on the decking, Lindsay allows herself the oft withheld luxury of shedding some tears for the man who holds in more pain than any human should allow themselves too. She knows that Bobby could be so much happier if he would let more of it out but she isn't sure that that is likely to ever happen, not when it is such a traumatic experience doing so; she saw the pain he went through as he spoke to her and hates herself for having put him through that purely to satisfy her own curiosity. That isn't an act of love, it's cruelty and she should never have done it. She realises now that she will have to accept that a part of Bobby will always be closed of from her, that the pain is too severe to open it and that this is a knowledge they'll have to live with always. She can live with it because she cannot live with the alternative - Bobby running from her. She loves him unconditionally, she doesn't need him to bear his soul to her, not at the price it costs, it is enough to know that he has tried. She fears that Bobby's mourning has become so much a part of who he is that he would feel lost without it; sometimes he can be his own worst enemy.

Finding it difficult to stay out here and face a beach that now seems empty without Bobby's presence, Lindsay returns inside; but the house offers her no comfort, it too is missing a vital part of its energy. As she paces she becomes more concerned about Bobby, sensing that he is out there angry at himself, hating himself for having perfectly normal human reactions to difficult situations, believing, for some strange reason, that he should be above that. Ask Bobby to list his failings and he'd go on for days but ask him to list off his good qualities and he'd be lucky to come up with ten. He puts so much pressure on himself that he fails to see what a good man he truly is but Lindsay sees it, she knows his true worth.

Thinking this reminds her of her promise to herself that she'll tell him how she feels about him. Due to his absence she's unable to tell him anything, but is filled with a sudden desire to make him see all that he is to her. Needing to act on this urge instantly, she sits at the writing table in their room and begins to write all that she feels for him, believing that, maybe, if she gets her thoughts on paper first, she might find the courage to put voice to them but as she sits and thinks the words don't come to her, how can you explain in mere words how you feel. Rising she gets herself a drink, wraps herself in Bobby's sweater and returns to the desk, this time allowing her heart and not her head to direct her pen.

Lindsay jumps when half an hour later she feels Bobby's hand slide across her shoulders. She'd been so intent on her letter that she hadn't heard him arrive home and his touch had been completely unexpected. He smiles apologetically, then with amusement at her choice of clothing. Grabbing himself a sweater he then walks out of the room with not one word having been spoken between them. She lets him go as she can read by his body language that he's returned but isn't yet ready to speak. She knows that he doesn't want company and was just allowing her to know that he is safely home again. She sits, for a moment, watching the doorway, not expecting him to return but remembering him there and longing to see him again. Soon she finds herself drawn to follow him, so, looking down at the page before her, she quickly draws the letter to a close, folds it up and places it in her purse knowing that Bobby isn't ready to read her words now.

Not wanting to crowd Bobby she walks to the kitchen, from there she is able to see him, whilst still giving him the space to be by himself. Realizing the time, she asks if he wants to go out for dinner and isn't surprised when the answer is no. Feeling the need to do something for him, she forgoes the offer of takeout, deciding instead to scrounge something out of the stock that they have on hand, wishing that she could make him his favorite meal but hampered by the lack of ingredients, for the first time since they've arrived here she wishes they were home; silently she'd be able to comfort him there purely by making the apartment the haven he needs.

Time passes quickly for Lindsay as she gets lost in preparing their meal, allowing the familiar actions of cooking to soothe her nerves. In this time worn routine she can forget the cares of the day, she can pretend it is just a normal night where she is making dinner while he is busy elsewhere. She can pretend that she is home and waiting for the sound of his key in the door, the kiss they'll share when he finds her and the lively chatter as he joins her and they talk of each other's days. Today there is no such chatter, the house is eerily quiet and she pushes away the fear that he is no longer there. When the food is ready she goes in search of Bobby, since this holiday began this is probably the longest that they have spent apart and she's surprised at how much she misses him being so close by all the time, at home it would possibly have annoyed her, it isn't unusual for them, once home, to keep as far from each other as possible while they work through the stresses of the day, but here she's grown so used to his laughter and cheeky smiles that she longs to see them again. She's about to step out onto the deck to inform him that dinner is ready when she hears his voice and realizes that he's on his cell-phone.

"Hey, Dad... yeah, it's me..."

Lindsay steps back, not wanting to intrude but then finds she can't move away either. Hating herself for invading his privacy like this, she hides in the shadows listening in.

"You know I can't tell you that, it's a secret... ah, you'll just have to wait until we land on your doorstep with an armload of videos from our trip... Nothing's wrong, I'm just checking in, making sure you behaved yourself without me there to supervise on Sunday... Yeah I would have missed you too but Lindsay kept me too busy to... don't I know it... nah, it's been great, beautiful place..."

Lindsay smiles when she hears Bobby laugh loudly, she's missed that sound so much; she guesses by Bobby's next words that his father had asked about their location.

"... Nice try, I'll let Lindsay tell you when we're home... She's incredible, Dad, like always... yeah, I am, aren't I? ... Okay I will... she loves you too... okay enough of that I found her first... yeah, that's better... take care... yeah... bye, see you Sunday... I love you"

Lindsay watches him sitting on the steps looking out at the ocean, there had been a long pause before he'd whispered 'I love you,' and she wonders if he'd waited until his father had hung up to say it. Bobby's sitting perfectly still until he takes a few deep breaths then nods his head. Lindsay isn't sure what is going on with him but knows that, for Bobby, that call had had a deeper meaning than the words that were spoken. She hopes that whatever it is, he has been able to reconcile himself to it and is willing to let any regrets go, she hopes this step that he has just taken is just the first of many that will lead to him feeling true happiness. Not wanting him to know that she has overheard, she steps back into the bedroom, then approaches again while calling his name. Bobby stands the instant that he hears her and climbs the stairs onto the deck.

"Oh, there you are," Lindsay says when he looks at her questioningly, "Dinner's ready."

"Okay," he replies, walking towards her, then, becoming aware of the cell-phone he holds, he looks at her nervously, "I... ah... I called my dad... I just wanted to... I called Dad..."

"That's nice," Lindsay says with a smile before turning and walking through the bedroom, making light of the statement, not wanting him to feel under pressure to explain, "I bet he was glad to hear from you."

Bobby chuckles a little and says, "I forgot about the time difference, I think I woke him up."

Lindsay looks at him from over her shoulder, sees him throw the phone onto the bed before following her out of the room, "I'm sure he didn't mind," she assures him.

"Yeah, didn't sound like it."

Feeling hopeful, Lindsay leads them to the table. As she busies herself with the process of serving and eating, she distracts herself from becoming concerned by the fact that they are sitting here together but not talking. It isn't unusual for them to have long comfortable silences but tonight this isn't the case; tonight the air around them is strained with everything that is going unsaid, it's filled with all the questions that she won't allow herself to ask and his pleas that she not push him because he isn't ready to move forward yet. They each feel nervous around the other, knowing that they have so much to say but are unable to express it, instead they attempt small talk, he compliments her on the meal, she thanks him for it, realizing that was a dismal failure they go back to another long silence.

After they've finished eating, Bobby insists on cleaning up, refusing Lindsay's help because, after all, she had done all the cooking and deserves a break. Lindsay can't help feeling that it is really a case of him wanting a break from her presence. Disappointed at how eager he is to get rid of her, she nods and leaves him to it. Feeling cold, inside and out, she walks to the bedroom to collect a jacket. Once in there she finds it hard to return to the lounge, to again be faced with the fact that Bobby doesn't want her company. Pausing in the doorway leading out to the deck, she looks out at the chair that they had shared earlier and remembers having lain there so happily, so content with each other until... Why did she have to ask about his family?

Turning back into the room she spies the cell-phone on the bed and takes a step towards it, needing to hear a friendly voice, needing reassurance that everything will be okay. One step away from it she stops herself, stands motionless as she closes her eyes and shakes her head, reminding herself that the only person she needs to talk to is Bobby and she won't betray his confidence by turning to anyone else. She knows that he is trying to bridge this gap, a number of times during their meal she'd seen him look up as if to speak, pause and then look away gloomily. He wants to open up to her, she is sure of it and is determined to be patient because she knows that he is well worth the wait.

As Lindsay approaches the living room she sees Bobby pacing in there, he's like a caged animal, she can tell that he is restless and frustrated with the lack of distractions that the house offers. Her heart goes out to him as she believes that the only reason he returned so soon was for her benefit because he is so obviously not wanting company. She doesn't doubt that right now he wishes the office was close at hand, offering him a means of escape. Believing that she has a solution for him, Lindsay turns and walks back into the bedroom, rummages through her case before returning to Bobby. When she enters the room, she finds Bobby lying on the couch with an arm draped over his eyes; although his position is one of relaxation, his posture screams otherwise. He is coiled so tight that she fears he will break.

"Interested?" she asks and he raises his arm enough to see what it is that she's offering. Relief crosses his face when he sees that it is a novel, Lindsay struggles to suppress the tinge of pain that his relief had caused as she'd seen the brutal evidence that he'd been afraid that she'd been about to demand time and attention from him.

Bobby thanks her as he takes the novel from her hands and, smiling despite her sorrow, she walks to the armchair where she curls up to read her own. Her attention is equally divided between the words on the page and the man in her sights. She's happy to watch him become absorbed in the lustre of literature and sees the tension in his body easing with each page that he reads. Lost in her musings, she's unaware that her attention has moved from her book to center solely on Bobby and that he is aware it has done so.

Having felt her eyes on him, Bobby had looked across at her but received no acknowledgement. He watches her and a smile almost graces his face as he breaks into her concentration, asking, "What is it?"

"Nothing," Lindsay says, realizing that she has been caught staring, she shakes her head and returns her eyes to her book.

"You want this one?" he offers, wondering if it was envy that had made her look so wistfully at him.

"No, no I bought that for you," she says and his grateful smile pleases her as it is the first true one that he has given her since his return, this one wasn't just a gesture of his mouth but contained a caress in his eyes too. Hoping to ease his concern, she adds, "I'm fine, Bobby, I was just daydreaming."

"What are you reading?" he asks and she holds the cover up for him to see, "Soulmates, should have guessed," he says with a laugh as he returns to his own novel.

Time passes quickly as they become lost in the other-world of fiction. Having reread her favorite scene, twice, Lindsay pauses to take a moment to savour it. Looking up she sees that Bobby's arm is draped off of the couch and his hand is laying on the floor palm upwards. She looks from his fingers to his eyes, which are still eagerly devouring the words on the page and, though his gesture may be unconscious, she decides to take it as intent anyway. Moving from her chair, she settles herself on the floor beside his hand, leaning against the couch, she rests her head near Bobby's hip and resumes reading. She smiles when she feels his hand move to rest on her thigh and feels secure in the fragile connection that they've just made. His hand leaves, only to turn each page, before returning back to her again and again.

After a further hour of reading in silence, Lindsay rolls to her knees and leaning her head on his chest says, "I'm tired, I'm going to bed."

Bobby nods and when he turns to look at her she sees uncertainty in his eyes, so, leaning forward, she brushes his lips with hers, runs her fingers over his forehead, smoothing away the worry lines there, before saying, "I'm glad you're enjoying the book, goodnight."

Bobby smiles and replies, "Night."

Lindsay kisses him once more, smiling when this time his lips respond, then she rises and leaves the room. She's hopeful that tomorrow they can work through this impasse, insistent that she'll be more cautious with him from now on. She'll remember a holiday is supposed to involve fun and relaxation not an inquisition. She needs to curb her lawyers instinct to question everything and just learn to be a person again, a woman, a fiancee on holidays with the man of her dreams.

~~~~~~~~

Lindsay wakes and looking at the bedside clock sees that it is after two. The emptiness of the bed frightens and disappoints her; rising, she goes in search of its missing occupant. She finds him asleep on the couch, the open book still in his hand, threatening to fall at any minute. Taking it from him, she marks his place, then lays it down on the table. Softly, her hand brushes his hair off of his forehead as she softly calls his name.

"Wass wrong?" he slurs, stirring.

"You're not in my bed," she whispers and watches as he moves further from the state of sleep. When his eyes open and he nods, she knows that he's awake enough for his powers of reasoning to kick in. "Will you come to bed, Bobby?" she asks.

He nods again, so Lindsay rises and walks from the room, not wanting to hover as she is content that he said he would join her in the bedroom. She'll let him follow when he is ready. She climbs back into bed and lays on the side facing where he should be. To Lindsay it feels like almost twenty minutes passes before he enters the room, though she closes her eyes so that he doesn't feel as if she is watching and monitoring him, she smiles, not attempting to conceal that she is awake.

She feels Bobby climb into bed and is pleased to feel the mattress shifts as he moves closer to her, his lips softly caress hers before he whispers, "Goodnight." Happily she returns both the kiss and the sentiment and then he is gone. When she hears he has settled her eyes open again and scan over the back that is facing her. She longs to reach out and soothe the tension that she sees there but this time she doesn't. She promised herself that she'd give him time and space and so she'll wait for him to come back to her. He's here, he's with her and he isn't pushing her away so she'll let him have his silence for a little while longer, after all, tomorrow is a fresh day when they can regroup and start again, of that she is sure; haven't they bounced back from larger obstacles than this?



    To be continued

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