“You just...came? You just... How did you know?”

“You went inside yourself,” he said, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I could think of a few possibilities. So I went to the newspaper archives online and found the obit. I wanted to pay my respects.”

“I wasn’t hiding it from you.”

“I know, baby. Come here,” he said, stretching out his long legs and pulling her onto his lap. “I know it’ll take a little time for us to know everything about each other but that’s okay. I think we’ve got the important stuff covered for now.”

“Like what?” she said, laying her head on his shoulder. “What’s important?”

“You love me,” he said. “I don’t have the best instincts with women but with you I feel different—like I know what you say is absolutely true. And I know I meant it when I said it to you. And I trust you. When you got quiet and wouldn’t tell me why I figured it was something you were still working out. You don’t have to say anything. But I’m listening when you’re talking. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said. “It was the worst day of my life.”

“I can believe that...”

“I called the paramedics. I tried to breathe for him, but it was too late. Sometimes I pulled him into bed with me but not that night. That night I put him in his crib where he died without my warmth close by. Part of me wishes I had him in bed with me, but then I would forever worry that I rolled over on him, suffocated him. And part of me is relieved he wasn’t in bed because then I didn’t hurt him... So the paramedics came and didn’t even try anything because he was gone, he’d been gone for a while. They let me hold him and we went to the hospital. I think they were breaking rules. I saw one of them crying; he was trying to hide it, but he had wet eyes and kept wiping them. At the hospital they asked for him and I wouldn’t give him up and I wailed. I went to the hospital in pajamas and not just any pajamas, the worst pajamas ever worn by the lowest vagrant—and I saved them, the pajamas. I saved his little onesie. And I wailed like a wounded animal and they had to give me a shot to get me to let go of the baby, of Josh.”

Matt started to rock her slightly, holding on tight, his lips against her hair.

“It was terrifying how crazed I was. And when they took him I couldn’t really believe he was dead. They did an autopsy, did you know? Because they had to make sure it wasn’t a disease or a homicide and oh, God...” She shook her head. “When I was able to see him again I didn’t believe it was him but I didn’t say anything because I knew they were this close to locking me up for being a lunatic.”

He kissed her temple. “Do you believe it now?” he asked in a whisper.

She nodded. “Yes. My baby died. There it is. It was no one’s fault. He wasn’t even a high-risk baby or in a high-risk lifestyle. Our pediatrician had two SIDS cases in his entire career and he was no kid.” She turned to look up at him. “Sometimes I wish I could just die like that.”

Matt shook his head. “No, sweetheart, no. We’re going to go forward. We have things to live for, I’m sure of it.”

“That’s what Al said,” she said. “Go forward and have his brothers and sisters.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“You’d do that? With me?” she asked him.

“Sure. When we’re ready. There’s plenty of time. Make sure it’s what you want. Make sure I’m what you want.”

She put her fingers on his lips. “Matt, I never thought I’d have a man like you in my life.” She smiled weakly. “I sure didn’t think so at Peyton’s wedding when you went for my boob.”

“Ah, a defining moment. Impressive, wasn’t I?”

“Drunk and clumsy,” she said.

“Yeah, but I’m persistent. I’m with you now. What do you want to do, sweetheart? Stay here awhile? Go to my place and rest a little bit?”

“I just want to go home,” she said. “I need to go back to my life. Will I see you this weekend?”

“I’m taking you home, honey.”

“You’re following me?”

“No. Driving you. You follow me to U-Haul. It’s not far. I’m going to rent a half trailer, hook your car up and tow you. We’ll ride together. We can hold hands and talk. Or not talk, if you’re feeling quiet. You can sleep a little—grieving wears a person out. We’ll stop for a good meal because I bet you didn’t eat...”

“Al’s going to be jealous. He wanted to drive me.”

“He needs to watch it,” Matt said teasingly. “This is my territory now.”

“It is, isn’t it? I should mind being called territory, but I don’t. You’ll be missed on the farm...”

“No, it’s all good. No one’s expecting me, but I’ll make a call, let Mama know I’m busy. She’ll tell Paco and George.”

“Do they know about me? That I’m damaged? That my baby died and I’m so damaged?”

“I haven’t told them the particulars, just that you needed me today. You can tell them someday if you feel like it.” He stood up and held out a hand to help her to her feet. “You ready or do you want more time here?”

“I’m ready,” she said.

Matt hated to put her in the car to drive even a short distance. Ginger never mentioned him, not even once, but Matt thought about him—that loser, Mick. He probably changed his name to Mick to be like Jagger. He should have been with her when that baby died. And even though Matt didn’t want him anywhere near her ever again, he should be here now, propping her up, supporting her. He should cry that his son died.

Matt hated him.

* * *

Ginger did sleep a little on the way back to Thunder Point. They stopped just outside Eugene at a homey little country restaurant that also sold hams and pies. Ginger had a bowl of soup with crackers and half a sandwich while Matt, no doubt concerned about getting enough to eat when they got back to that little loft, indulged in a large meat loaf and potato dinner. She called her parents, explaining she’d been to the cemetery and her suspicions were right—they’d made a visit early that morning and left a bouquet. She had planned to visit Josh’s grave alone, spend a couple of hours and leave, not feeling like seeing people.

Then she explained Matt being there, taking her back home. “I didn’t tell him I’d be there and if he’d asked to come with me I would’ve said I wanted to be alone,” she said to her mother. “But I’m so glad he was there. And it turned out to be the right thing for me.”

Then she slept a little more. He unhooked the tow bar and parked her car behind the flower shop while she went upstairs. Once she was in her secure little loft apartment, she called Ray Anne and asked her to relay to Al that she was fine.

“I went to the cemetery today to put flowers on his little grave, and Matt came. He guessed I might be there. He brought his own flowers. It was so lovely that he’d do that without being asked, without being needed.”

“Oh, baby,” Ray Anne singsonged. “And now? Feeling all right?”

“Feeling a little wrung out, honestly. But I’ll sleep tonight and tomorrow I’ll be so happy to get back to my flowers and friends.” Unbelievably, that was the truth. She needed that pilgrimage to Portland. She wished there was more by way of closure, but that was as good as it was going to get. She was beginning to understand that there was nothing she could do, no ritual that could make the feelings go away. The sadness would just have to leave her with time as replaced by new feelings. Remembering him, his sweet little face, that belonged to her.