I own nothing but the voices in my head. Let me know what you think.. :)
The Knock on the Door.
Wayne held on to his son tightly. He was oblivious to the soft music coming from his stereo.
His dad was dead.
His violent, alcoholic, estranged dad was dead.
But Wayne couldn't help but cry; over everything that could have been.
Over the lost fishing trips they never took, the last sports events they never went to together; the missing scene in his life where his Dad and Ben sat on the floor laughing and playing and his dad grabbing up his grandson and smiling at him in pride.
Normal things; he mourned their absence. He mourned the fact that they were never meant to be. Not for him.
Ben wiggled in his arm softly cooing. Wayne glanced down at his boy, his son who was slowly slipping off to sleep in the comfort of his father's arms. The tears came again then. Sarah had left him; she couldn't understand how sorry he was that he hurt her by faking his death when his team tried to trap Red John.
Now, Wayne had only the weekends to be with his son…and it was Sunday night. Soon he'd be very much alone.
A knocking at the door interrupted his melancholy.
"Shh..shh.." he whispered to Ben who was slightly startled by the noise. He rocked him, and then slowly rose gently cradling his son.
He walked hesitantly to the door, drying his eyes with the back of his hand. When he opened the door, his eyes widened when he saw who it was.
"Hi."
"Grace?"
Grace stood smiling at him holding a brown bag, delicious smells wafting from it. She raised the bag at him. "Chinese. You hungry?"
"Uh, yes, sure..come in." She walked into his apartment and he followed her wiping harder at his eyes hoping she wouldn't notice he had been crying.
"Uh, let me put Ben in the other room." He said.
Grace smiled at the sleeping Ben. "He's just too cute!" she whispered.
Wayne forced a smile and walked off to the bedroom to place Ben in his crib.
When he came back Grace had already found some plates and was dishing out the food. He sat at the counter across from her.
"So, " she said, not looking at him. "I'm so sorry about your father, Wayne."
"Yeah…thanks. He got what was coming to him I guess..you know..the kinda lifestyle he led."
Grace looked at Wayne…really looked at him. Then sat down at the counter across from him; the heat from the food sending tendrils of soft smoke between them.
"I'm sorry about your father, Wayne."
Wayne glanced up at her then down at his plate. He suddenly found he had lost his appetite; his control over his emotions fading quickly.
"Yeah, like I said…"
"Wayne?"
He looked up at Grace and saw such love and sadness emanating from her. She stretched her hand across the counter and gently grasped his.
And with that, his emotions overpowered him and he broke; tears spilling from his eyes.
"Man..I'm so stupid. Why am I crying? Over him? Over him!?"
Grace stood and went around the counter. Still holding Wayne's hand she pulled him gently to the living room where they sat side by side on the couch.
He tried to wipe away his tears, but Grace turned to him and slowly pulled his hand away from his face.
"Let it go, Wayne; you need to. I understand. You're crying for what could have been, not for what was. I understand. And I'm here for you..I'll always be here for you." Wayne looked into her tear-filled eyes and realized that she got it..she really did understand...and he pulled her into a deep hug.
"Thank you." he whispered. "Thank you."
And with the soft music playing in the background and his son lying asleep in the other room they hugged through the tears and Wayne knew that he would get through this; because…
He
Truly
Wasn't
Alone.
The End.