Iris Johansen - Always

He turned and strode to the master bedroom and knocked briskly. He didn't wait for an answer but opened the door and walked into the room.

Lisa was at the French windows gazing out into the courtyard, silhouetted against the last rays of twilight.

"He got away," Clancy said. "I'm sure you'll be glad to know your conscience is entirely clear. Baldwin is somewhere on the high seas by now."

"I know you're disappointed," Lisa said, not turning around. "It's not that I condone what he's done, but I couldn't be responsible for-"

"I know why you did it. I'm not blaming you. I do think you should develop a better sense of self-preservation. You heard what he said to you before he took off. You're on Baldwin's hit list from now on."

"Yes," she said dully.

He drew a deep breath. It was worse than he'd thought: her voice was totally apathetic. "I've sent the guards away."

She didn't answer.

"For God's sake, say something," he burst out. "What the hell is wrong with you? I feel like I'm talking to a statue."

"I'm sorry. I'm very tired," she said like a polite little girl. "I'd like to go to bed now."

"Not now. We need to talk."

"I'm very tired," she repeated. "I'd like my sleeping pills, please."

"The hell you would!"

"It's all over. You said you'd sent the guards away. The pills are my property and I'd like them returned."

"It's not all over, and if you think I'll let you take-"

She whirled to face him. He couldn't see her face in the dimness of the room, but her body was as tense as an arched bow. "Give them to me. I need them, damn you!"

"All the more reason not to give them to you. It's time you stopped hiding behind them, Lisa. It's time you came out into the light and faced it." He kept his voice hard with an effort. He could feel her pain and desperation radiating in waves across the room. "I'll help you in any way I can, but we've got to come to grips with the problem first." He moved to the bedside lamp and turned it on. For a moment he wished he hadn't. So much pain, so much emptiness showed on her pale face. "Lisa, we have to talk about it. You can't go on like this."

Her eyes widened in sudden fear. "You don'tknow what you're saying. It's none of your business what I do, anyway. Leave me alone, Clancy."

"I can't do that. Do you think I want to bully you like this?" His eyes met hers. "Tell me about Tommy, Lisa."

"No!" She turned her back on him, staring out the window. "Get out, Clancy."

"Your son, Tommy, was born one year after your marriage to Baldwin. According to your file, you and the boy were extraordinarily close. He died in an automobile accident three years ago. Baldwin was driving and received only a slight concussion." Her spine was painfully rigid, as if he were flogging her and she had to tense to bear the blows. Lord, he was glad he couldn't see her face now. "You came very close to a nervous breakdown. You were under a doctor's care for six months, and then you resumed your career and concentrated all your energies on that area of your life."

"You have all the facts down accurately," she said, her voice brittle. "You don't need me to tell you anything."

"Yes, I do. I need you to tell me about Tommy. What did he look like? Was he blond like Baldwin?"

"No, he had brown hair, acorn brown. What difference does it make?"

"Brown eyes?"

"No, they were hazel." Her voice was a mere whisper. "Please, don't do this to me, Clancy."

"What was his favorite color? Most children like red."

"He loved yellow. Bright yellow. For his fifth birthday I arranged a party at his nursery school, and he wanted all the balloons to be yellow."

"Was he a quiet child?"

"Sometimes. When he was tired, he'd bring his favorite book and curl up next to me in the same chair." She seemed to be struggling to get the words out. "He'd lean his head against me and not say a word until I'd finished. Though most of the time he'd fall asleep before I got halfway through."

"Did he have a favorite toy he slept with?"

"Bruiser. It was a tattered old panda bear with one black eye. I told Tommy he looked like a punch-drunk fighter. It got so worn I tried to get him to accept a replacement, but he loved it so…"

"What happened to Bruiser, Lisa?"

She didn't answer. Her spine was arched with unbearable tension as if she were being stretched on the rack.

"Tell me, Lisa."

"He's with Tommy." Her voice was so faint he could hardly catch it. "I wanted him to have something he loved with him. Bruiser is with Tommy."

Oh, God, he couldn't keep this up. Why wouldn't she break? "What did Tommy look like when he smiled?"

"He had a dimple in his left cheek and he'd just lost his front tooth. I was planning on having his yearly picture taken, and I told him he'd look as ragtag as Bruiser. He laughed and-" She whirled to face him. Tears were running down her cheeks and her eyes were wild with grief. "But I never had that picture taken. He died, Clancy. He diedl " Her slender body was suddenly racked with sobs. "It wasn't fair. Tommy was so good. He didn't deserve to have that happen to him."

Clancy crossed the room in three strides, andgathered her in his arms. His hands cradled the back of her head, pressing her face into his chest in an agony of tenderness. "I know, acushla. I know."

"He was a miracle." Her voice was muffled, but the words flowed on. It was as if once started, they were impossible to halt. "A miracle. I hadn't done anything to deserve him. I'd always been a little selfish and thoughtless, yet I was given Tommy. He was so sweet and affectionate. And smart. He was very bright for his age. All his teachers said so." Her hands clenched his shirt front, wrinkling it. "I loved him so, Clancy."

He could feel his throat tighten painfully. "The dreams. What are the dreams about, Lisa?"

"Tommy. They're always about Tommy, and they're all the same. It's late at night and I'm at home. I'm happy. I even hum a little as I climb the stairs. I have to tuck Tommy in for the night, and I always love doing that. He's always so clean and sweet after his bath. Then I open the door and Tommy's not in his room. I don't understand and I walk into the room and go across to his bed. The bed is very neat and cold and perfectly made up, with not a wrinkle in the bedspread. And I look down at it and I know that it's going to stay that way. That Tommy's never going to be there again. That I'm never going to tuck him in, or kiss him goodnight, or hold him…"

He rocked her, pain exploding inside him. God, what must it be like for her? "I think I would have murdered Baldwin myself, if I were you," he said huskily.

"I thought he felt the same way I did. He neverseemed very affectionate toward Tommy, but after we separated he appeared to change. He'd take Tommy out for the day to amusement parks and the zoo. After the accident he seemed so…" She paused. "Broken. And he was so concerned when I was ill." She shook her head in bewilderment. "Oh, I don't know."

"He would have realized that his only chance with you was to fake the same bereavement you were feeling," Clancy said grimly. "He didn't sound any too guilt-stricken this afternoon."

"No, he didn't." She couldn't seem to stop the tears from running down her cheeks, but the sobs had begun to subside. "I don't understand it. I don't understand him."

"Well, I do," Clancy said. "I understand the bastard very well." Suddenly he picked her up and carried her across the room toward the chair. "But I have no intention of talking about Baldwin now." He sat down on the chair and cradled her on his lap. His hand stroked the fine hair at her temple with gentle fingertips. "That's not what you want to talk about now, either, is it?"

"No." She nestled her cheek closer. "That's not what I want to talk about."