I reached over and put a throw pillow, which had fallen to the floor, back on the couch. I then turned and began dusting the mantel. I winced as one of the pictures, one of my late husband and I, fell to the ground. My son, who was doing a puzzle on the ground, reached over and picked up the frame. I looked down and saw him smiling as he examined it.

"Mom?" asked my now ten year old son, Daniel, as he looked up at me.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Can you tell me another story of you and dad?" he asked.

Daniel, or Danny as people knew him, had no recollection whatsoever of his father. Jason had died a mere two days after he met his son for the first time. On top of that, Jason passed away without knowing that my son was in fact our son. Danny was about four months old when Jason got shot and was thrown into the water at Pier 52. Despite the fact that he never knew, or would never remember, his father, Danny called Jason "dad" all the time.

I put down the duster and went and sat on the couch. Danny came and sat beside me. I looked down at the picture, which he was still holding, and smiled.

"Well, what kind of story?" I asked.

"Uh... I don't know" he answered, It was silent for awhile. "Tell me about when you knew you wanted to be with my dad forever"

I smiled as the memory came back to me: me and Jason dancing, and kissing, in the rain on the roof, Chinese lanterns hanging and a meal getting soaked.

"Mom?" Danny interrupted my thoughts. "You gonna tell me?"

I smiled at him. "Of course" I answered. "It was years ago, in 2005..." I began.

"That's a long time ago" commented Danny.

"It is" I agreed. "So, Michael had been kidnapped and we were all told he was dead"

"Like me when I was a baby?" asked Danny, interrupting me again.

"Yeah... Like you when you were a baby" I answered softly. That had always been a topic I hated. It brought back way too many bad memories.

Danny took my hand. He was like a mini-Jason: always so supportive and caring - not to mention how much he looked like his father.

"I'm sorry, mom. I know you don't like talking about that" he said.

"It's okay" I said.

"Can you keep telling the story? I won't interupt anymore" he said.

I smiled. "Okay. So, Michael had been kidnapped and we were told he was dead. Your daddy loved Michael a lot and he was spending all his time trying to find proof that Michael was alive, which he was" I explained.

"Well yeah. I know Michael" said Danny.

"Yeah you do" I said. "So, continuing with the story. I thought your dad needed a break from looking for clues so I got all dressed up and called a restaurant and ordered some food" I continued.

"That's good" said Danny. "No offense, but you can't cook"

I let go of my son's hand and we both laughed.

"Hey! I thought I was mastering my toasting skills" I said. Danny just laughed in response. "So, can we go back to the story?" I asked.

"Yeah, mom" he answered.

I smiled. "So, your dad got home and came and met me on the roof and we danced" I continued my story. "And then it started raining on us and we kissed" I continued. "And that was when I knew I wanted to marry your dad" I finished.

Danny smiled at me. "I like that story" he said.

I smiled back at my son. The smile on his face was soon replaced by a frown, resembling the one I had seen for years before Danny, Jason's.

"What's wrong, buddy?" I asked.

Danny shrugged. "It's just... Why did dad have to go to heaven?" he asked me.

I frowned, pulling him into my arms. "I don't know" I answered honestly.

Danny settled into my arms. "Why did that mean guy have to shoot my dad?" he asked, sounding like he was about to cry.

I felt tears well up in my eyes, causing a burning sensation. I blinked them back, trying to stay strong for my little boy. "Because some people, like Faison, are bad..." I trailed, thinking of how hypocritical that sounded. Jason had taken the lives of many. The only difference was that, in Jason's case, it was to protect those he cared about, well, when Faison pulled the trigger on Jason, it was just cruel. "Yeah... Faison was bad"

Danny pulled away and looked up at me. At that point, I had let a tear roll down my cheek. He reached up and wiped it away.

"Don't cry, mom" he said. "Dad is looking down on you"

I shook my head. "He's looking down on us" I said.