They had a few blissful weeks together that brought them to July; long phone conversations at night, long weekends filled with plenty of time in each other’s arms and also enjoyable time with Thunder Point friends. And with his sister.

“I have to admit, I never saw this coming,” Peyton said to him. “My brother, Mad Matt, all soft and cuddly.”

“I told you if you’d just get out of my way, I knew what I was doing,” he said.

“Except, did you? Know what you were doing?”

“Not really, but fortunately Ginger did.”

“Really? And are you a man to be led around by the nose?” Peyton teased.

“Yes. I am.”

There was a moment of doubt and worry in the middle of July when Ginger became a little quiet. It was sudden. He was getting ready to go back to the farm when she seemed very tired, a little down in the dumps. He wasn’t used to seeing her eyes downcast. She wasn’t as talkative on the phone that night or the next night; she didn’t seem to have much to say. She complained of having a headache and being tired.

“I thought I drove away the headaches,” he teased.

“It’s very unusual for me and it’ll pass. Thanks for understanding.”

Of course Matt didn’t understand at all. But he just kept telling her he loved her. He didn’t know what else to do.

* * *

Al Michel climbed the back stairs to Ginger’s little apartment and tapped on the door. When she answered, it was obvious she’d been crying. “Hi,” he said. “Got a minute?”

“Is it important?” she asked.

“It is. I think it’s important. Could I just have a few minutes?”

“Is Ray Anne all right?”

“She’s excellent, but I wanted to talk to you,” Al said. “I won’t take too much of your time.”

“Okay, I guess,” she said, opening the door. “I’m a little under the weather, though.”

“Sure you are, honey,” he said. “Let’s just sit down in there.”

She shrugged and let him follow her to the sofa, where they sat.

“I know what tomorrow is,” Al said.

Immediately, tears began to run down Ginger’s cheeks. “Ray Anne told you,” she murmured.

“Sort of. She told me a long time ago but it’s possible she doesn’t even remember. I remembered. I stopped by the shop late today and you’d already left, not feeling so good, Grace said. And she mentioned you were taking tomorrow off. She didn’t think you were real sick, though.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” she said.

“What you’re feeling, it’s okay,” Al said. “I’ve felt it myself. Felt it deep. Do you have a plan for how you’re going to spend the day tomorrow?”

“Driving,” she said, letting a slightly embarrassed laugh squeak through the tears.

“I figured as much. How about I take you?”

“You?” she asked, shocked.

“I have experience with this. Ray told you, I’m sure. I lost a son to SIDS. We think it was SIDS—it was a real long time ago. Doctors know a lot more about it now. I was a young husband, only about twenty. Just a kid. I didn’t go to his grave on the anniversary of his death. I went on his birthday every year. Every summer for over thirty years. You and me—we have some things in common.”

“I don’t know anyone else who lost a baby to SIDS,” she said.

“There aren’t that many, thank God. My wife and I didn’t stay together. She went on to have a good marriage and a couple of healthy kids. It took me a long time to give up going to that grave in absolute agony every year.”

“Can you still feel him?” she asked, fresh tears escaping.

“Not anymore, honey. For a long time I could feel him against my shoulder, his little head lying against me right here,” he said, demonstrating by positioning his hands. “I finally let the kid rest. I know you’re going to do what you have to do, Ginger. I hope there’s some way I can help. And I hope you don’t dedicate as many years to grief as I did. Remembering is good. Agonizing is useless.”

“It’s the first year,” she said, sniffing.

“Let me take you so you don’t have to drive. I can manage not to talk. I won’t ask questions.”

She shook her head. “I just want to have a day alone to remember, that’s all.”

“You can talk about it if you want to, you know.”

She gave her head a little shake.

“You can talk to Matt. He seems a real good man. And I can tell, he cares about you.”

“I just don’t want to put this on Matt.”

“Aw, he’s a big tough guy, he can handle it...”

“I want it to be mine,” she said. “Do you understand that?”

He laughed a little, a small laugh that said he knew exactly. “Ginger, I left my wife—I couldn’t even talk to her and it was her baby. Sweetheart, I know you’re in pain right now. I just hope you don’t do that to yourself. Don’t waste the years like I did. Remember him sweetly. Let him rest. Go forward and have his brothers and sisters.”

She nodded, looking down, tears falling on her hands.

“Let me drive you. I’ve arranged for a day off. No one knows why, not even Ray. Just let me drive you, keep you safe.”

She looked up. “Please,” she said softly. “This is mine to do. I promise you I’ll be all right.”

He gave her a look of acquiescence. “Come here, angel,” he said, pulling her against his big hard chest. She leaned against him and cried for a little while, but not for too long. He just stroked her back until the tears passed.

“I’m okay, Al. Just a tough day, that’s all. And I will—let it pass, let him rest. I have a lot ahead that’s good.” She sniffed and reached for a tissue.

“Yes, you do,” he said, running her pretty hair behind her ear. “Would it be all right if I called you tomorrow night? Just to be sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. Sure. But I promise you...I might need a couple of days to be done with this but I promise you, I’m not going back to that dark place I was in when Ray Anne rescued me. That wouldn’t exactly do my baby proud, would it?”

* * *

Matt had to get a map from the mortuary office so that he could find the right grave. The security patrol had no trouble finding the location and handed a copy to Matt.

He was not at all surprised to see Ginger’s car parked along the road. And there she was, sitting on the cool grass about forty feet from the road.

He took the flowers from his mother’s garden to the spot, walking past Ginger to put them on the grave. There were lots of flowers already there. She looked up at him.

“Did someone tell you? Call you?”

He shook his head, then crouched to her level, sitting on the heel of his boot. “No one called. No one told me.”

“Then why are you here?” she asked, wiping a tear.

Matt sighed and sat on the ground. “You’ve been blue and I thought I might find you here. If you weren’t here I would have just left these flowers from our garden to mark the day of his death. I’m not surprised to see you but you could’ve told me. You can tell me anything, you know.”