CHAPTER TWO

Alex fingered the cross around her neck and stared at the photo. Although it was small, the cross appeared clearly in the photo, and, if it wasn't the same cross, it was certainly its twin. The chain was different—the one around Alex's desk was much longer—but the cross looked the same.

"It could be a coincidence," she thought. "It's probably a common design. You don't know if Bobby left it. And even if he did…It may not be the same one…Why would he leave me a cross anyway? He's a lapsed altar boy. He's the least superstitious man you know…"

She examined the photo. Frances Goren had been a beautiful child, with black curly hair and dark eyes. She smiled at the camera with a heartbreaking combination of innocence and hope. As Alex carefully returned the photo to its pile, another picture caught her attention. This one appeared to be from a later year and was in color. It showed a handsome boy of about seven or eight with dark curls and eyes not unlike the little girl's. He wore a white suit a smidge too big for him and a slightly askew bowtie. His hands were folded in front of him, and he stood in front of a church. The photo was clearly another First Communion photo, and the little boy was clearly Bobby. In contrast to the innocence and hope on his mother's face, Bobby faced the camera with a wary expression too old for his age. He smiled, but it was an anxious smile, the smile of a child who was smiling because he was supposed to, not because he felt like it.

Alex felt tears form in her eyes. "No child," she thought. "Should have that look in his eyes." She examined the photo more carefully, and saw a thin gold chain around Bobby's neck. It held a cross, one that looked very much like the one Alex had seen around his mother's neck and the one that now hung around her neck. Alex fingered the cross again. It certainly looked like the same cross. But was it? It it was, how did it get from Bobby's mother to Bobby to her? More importantly, why did it go from his mother to Bobby to her?

"Eames…"

Bobby's quiet, apologetic voice nearly caused Alex to jump out of her skin.

"Jeez…Bobby…You move like a big cat…" Alex hastily returned the photo to the pile.

"I…I'm sorry." Bobby carried two glasses of wine, and he held on out to her. "Uh…The pizza will be here soon…" His eyes focused on the pile of pictures. "I…I've been going through some old photos…My relatives in Minnesota…My great aunt had some things she sent me copies of…And I was sending her copies of what little I had…

Alex took the glass from him and took a long drink before she spoke. "I…I'm sorry…I didn't mean to snoop…"

"It's ok," Bobby quickly assured her. "If I didn't want you to see any of it, I would've put it away or told you."

Alex couldn't shake the feeling she'd invaded Bobby's privacy. He motioned for her to sit down on the couch, and sat across from her in his biggest, plumpest chair.

"The cross," he said deliberately after a few moments. "It…It's the same one…The one you got on…It's the same one as the one in the pictures of my Mom and me…When I made my First Communion…My Mom was pretty good in the months leading up to it…She was coming out of her first bad breakdown. I was scared…confused…I remember I thought if I was really good…If I prayed really hard and was really good and made a good Confession and First Communion…My Mom would get better…She did for a while…That's not unusual…The drugs…They're very effective at first…But then…They have side effects…And if they work…A person starts thinking he or she is better and stop taking the drugs…And it takes more or more powerful drugs the second…or third…or whatever time…My Mom was good on the drugs…But about three weeks before my First Communion…She stopped taking them…And started to slip away. No one recognized it then. Anyone close to her…Got used to it…Knew the signs…Later…But then…" Bobby shrugged. "Most of my stuff was already ordered. My suit and my prayer book…I was really proud of myself. Sister Joseph said I was the best student in the class…"

Alex leaned forward. "I remember…I was the kid who kept asking the questions that drove the nuns nuts…My dress was a hand me down from my sister, but my Mom changed it enough that it was mine. And I got to choose my veil."

"I bet," Bobby said. "You were beautiful."

"You looked very handsome," Alex said. She tried to keep from fingering the cross.

Bobby stared at some point on his rug. "It was a little miracle. A week before my First Communion…My Mom was in bad shape. She'd stopped taking her meds, and she had a break. She…She was taken to the emergency room after she cut herself…She wasn't really trying to kill herself, but…I thought…I thought it was my fault…That I wasn't praying hard enough or being good enough…"

"Oh, Bobby," Alex said. She leaned forward. "You were just a little boy…"

"That's what Sister Joseph told me. I stayed after one of the religion classes and told her I couldn't make my First Communion. I wasn't good enough. I was bad. She…She was very kind to me. She told me what happened to my Mom wasn't my fault. She tried to explain to me what was happening—that my Mom was sick and that wasn't my fault. She was the first person who even tried to tell me what was going on. When I left her, I still didn't know if I was good, but she convinced me to go. My Mom…Once she got back on her meds, she got much better. She was able to come to the Mass. She was a little…A little out of it…And I was afraid…It was the first time I remember being afraid that she'd get upset and…and crazy…"

"No child should have to worry about that," Alex said.

"When we got to the church," Bobby continued. "We found out that all the other kids had gotten something from their parents…A religious medal or something like that…My Mom didn't have anything, and she…I could tell she felt bad…The man I thought was my father wasn't there, of course…I can't remember if Frank was. It…It really didn't bother me that my Mom didn't have anything to give me. It bothered me that it hurt her. We were getting ready to go in the church when my Mom took off the cross…She wore it almost all the time…And she put it around my neck. The chain was too long, but she fixed it somehow." Bobby sipped his wine. "I…I wore it for a long time. I had to get another chain for it. I got teased sometimes…It's more for a girl…But I just told people it was a gift from my Mom and it was important to me. I expected her to demand it back, but she never did."

His voice was soft and controlled, but Alex heard the strain in it.

"Why…Why did you give it to me?" she asked.

Bobby continued to stare at his rug. "I…I felt so helpless…You…You were hurt…I couldn't help you…I didn't protect you…"

"Bobby…"

"I know…I know. It wasn't my fault…I know that…Up here…" Bobby tapped his head. "But here…" He tapped his chest. "Is a lot harder to convince. And…You looked so vulnerable in that bed…And I knew…I couldn't protect you from everything…I couldn't protect you from me and everything around me…Hell, I can't even protect myself…I…I need your help…"

"I don't mind doing that," Alex said.

"You…You do a good job," Bobby said. "In spite of my best…or worst…efforts." He raised his head and managed to meet her eyes. "I knew I can't watch over you…I know you don't want me to…I stopped wearing the cross a long time ago…But I kept it with me…You know how I feel about religion…About my faith…Or lack of it…"

"You called yourself a hopeful skeptic," Alex smiled.

"Yea…But this cross…It was important. I know it didn't protect me, but I was glad it was there. And…When you were in the hospital…I wanted you to know you weren't alone…That someone was watching over you…Cared about you…It was really an impulse. I hung it over you." He couldn't look at her. "I…I hope you…I hope you didn't mind…I hope I didn't do something wrong…"

Alex fingered the cross. Tears brimmed in her eyes, and for several moments she couldn't trust her voice. She stood, walked to Bobby, and knelt before him. "Of course I don't mind. I thought it might have been you…But I couldn't figure out why…And then I saw it in the pictures…And got more confused…But…I understand now…It's a wonderful gift. Thank you."

Bobby shook with relief.

"But…Do you want it back?" Alex asked gently. "It was your Mom's…and…like you said…you need a lot of protecting…"

Bobby shook his head. "It's yours. If you give it away, it has to go to someone else you care about that needs protection. That's the rule."

Alex smiled. "Well, I think I'll be keeping this for a while. We both need guardian angels." She rested her hands on his knees.

"Even if St. Michael isn't available," Bobby said.

There was a knock at the door.

"Pizza," Bobby said.

"I'll get it," Alex said. Bobby helped her stand up. She turned to him before she left the room. "And we'll be fine. We'll watch over each other."

END