Sad Stuff
He had always wondered where Sydney went off to every Sunday. At first he had believed her when she had said she liked the quiet time at home, but then a few times he had tried to get a hold of her at home on Sunday, and not once has he managed it.
So he had waited outside of her house one day, in a car he had borrowed from a friend, so she wouldn't know. He waited a while before she finally excited her home and got into her car, he started his when she did hers and carefully he began to follow her along the roads of Dallas.
He wondered where she was heading as she wound this way and that, passing many places as she continued on. For a while he began to think she was doing nothing but going for a drive, enjoying the nice Texas Spring, enjoying the view, enjoying the quiet.
But then she turned in to what looked like a drive way, that is until he saw the large black wrought iron fence, the green grass beyond and the head stones, she was going to a cemetery, to remember someone that had been lost. Quickly he parked his car and followed her in on foot, she went back pretty far, almost all of the way, until she stopped on a hill.
She exited her car, a bundle of pink roses in hand. She stepped onto the turf, her heels sinking in slightly, and began the rows, aimlessly looking at the markers as she went. She finally found the one she was looking for, carefully she crouches down and brushes the grass shards from it, softly she kiss' her finger tips before she places them on the marker. He can clearly see the tears falling from her eyes, he wished he could go to her, to comfort her, to support her, but he stayed back, not wanting her to know he had followed her.
Finally she stood, sparing one last look to the marker and roses before she turned and slowly walked away.
When he seen her finally leave the fence boundary he made his way closer to see who his partner was grieving. When he looked down at the marker he almost gasped. There was a tiny angel lying on a cloud, and the inscription:
Abbygaile Marie Cooke
May 7th 1998- May 19th 1998
'Mommy's Little Angel'
He couldn't believe it, Sydney had a child, she'd only lived for twelve days, but she had lived, she had come from Sydney. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to carry something like that all alone, he'd give her as many breaks as he could, he decided, and maybe, one day she would feel she could share this with him.
But until then, at least he could watch over her every Sunday now!
FINISH