You would have thought that a question like that would have inspired spontaneous happy tears, kisses and lots of gay love. But it didn't. Instead it caused my heart to drop into my feet. I was overcome with devastation. I just looked at Tara, my face a mask of shock and hurt. I pulled my hands free of her grasp and stood awkwardly from my chair, knocking it over in the process.

"Will?" she said, her voice filled with worry and concern.

I said nothing, mute with the emotion locked in my throat. I suddenly couldn't breath. I had to get out of the house. I pushed past her and ran to the front door, grabbing my coat and purse and racing out to the car, jumping in and peeling out of the driveway and down the street.

Suddenly the tears came, in great torrents down my face. I couldn't stop them. I could barely see to drive. Somehow I navigated myself to my parents' house, sloppily driving up onto the curb as I parked in front of the two-story colonial. My mother must have seen me from the kitchen window and met me on the front porch as I clambered toward the door.

"Willow?" she asked, her voice frantic, "What's wrong? Is it Joshua?"

"No", I sobbed, wrapping my arms around myself. "Tara…"

"Something's happened to Tara?" She grabbed my shoulders, "Is she hurt?"

I shook my head, "No, she…" I realized I couldn't explain it. Not now. Not in words that she would understand. I wiggled my way out of her grasp and pushed toward the door. "I just want to be alone for a while, Mom." I rushed up the stairs and to my childhood room, collapsing on the bed in a fit of tears.

After awhile the tears finally stopped, and I lay on my bed in an exhausted, weepy haze. Through the fog I heard the phone ring downstairs and my father answer it.

"Hello? (pause) Oh, thank God. Are you alright? (pause) Yes, she's here. We thought something had happened to you. Sheila was about to start calling hospitals. (longer pause) Yes, of course… What happened? (pause) Alright. Good bye."

I heard the phone click back into its cradle and I shut my eyes at the sound. I felt myself begin to drift off, my parents' voices growing distant as echoes until they were gone and I was in a deep and dreamless sleep.

I woke up a while later, the setting sun creating orange and purple shadows on my closet door, playing across my old poster of Melissa Etheridge. A familiar warmth spooned up against me from behind, Tara's arm wrapped around me possessively and tenderly all at once. I let out a long sigh. Part of me wanted to pull away, still angry, even if I couldn't articulate the reason why. The rest of me desperately sought out her affection, needing it feel strong so that I could explain why I was so upset, if only I could find the words to do so.

"Are you awake?" she asked softly, her breath hot on my neck.

I said nothing, but shifted a little in her arms to let her know that I was.

"I'm sorry," she stated. The words hung in the air for a moment. "I'm sorry that I hurt you," she went on. "But I don't understand… I don't understand what I did wrong."

"No…" I said finally, unable to hide the bitterness in my voice. "I'm sorry."

"What-"

"I'm sorry that I'm not enough for you…"

"Willow," she said, cutting me off. "How can you say that? I love you. I love you so much I want to have a child with you-"

"You have a child with me," interrupting her this time. "His name is Joshua, he's twelve…"

"Willow…"

"But I guess he doesn't count, does he?"

"Will, stop…"

"Because he came out wrong…"

"No."

"So now you want to try again to get it right-"

"Stop it!" She shouted, stunning me into silence. She pulled away from me and tugged on my shoulder so that I rolled onto my back, looking up at her. She looked down at me through watery eyes, her chin quivering as she worked so hard to keep the tears at bay. "How dare you," she managed to say through gritted teeth, "think that of me. How dare you say that." She paused to exhale, taking a sharp breath in through her nose, still fighting the tears. "I don't want to have a child with you as a 'do-over'." She practically spat the last two words out in disgust. "I want to have a baby with you because I love you so much. And I love Joshua so much. And we have so much love between the three of us that I want to share it. I want to build on it. How could you think anything else?"

"I don't know how," I confessed, my head spinning with regrets and apologies, jumbled thoughts and emotions. "I don't know why…" I went quiet for a moment, trying to put everything in my mind in order. I realized it was going to take much longer than a few moments in thought. But I also recognized something else. "I'm sorry. I guess I went all 'mama-bear' for a while there."

Tara raised her eyebrows humorously, "Try 'mama-bear' with a hefty dose of 'melodrama-queen' and 'overreaction-man'." I chuckled at the spoken truth. She reached down and caressed a few strands of hair out of my eyes. I sighed and closed my eyes, once again welcoming her touch. I blinked my eyes open again and gazed up into her blue. "I want to have a baby with you," she stated again, "but if you'd rather not…"

"I do," I said, coming to the decision then. "I really do." I took her hand within my own and kissed her palm, placing it down on my chest over my heart.

"Yeah?" she asked sweetly, unsure.

"Yeah." I affirmed.

She leaned down and kissed me then, softly, gently, a tender unspoken affirmation of her love. We deepened the kiss only a little before I pulled slightly away.

"Where's Josh?" I asked.

"He's here," she assured me, "downstairs with your parents."

"Okay," I nodded, leaning up and capturing her lips again. Our exchange becoming more heated this time. I reached up with my hand and held the side of her face as we kissed, silently encouraging her with my actions. I felt her reach down and grasp my waist, pulling me to her. I gasped as her tongue entered my mouth, forceful in its urgency.

"Wait, wait," I said, pushing her back a little as I tried to catch my breath.

"What's wrong?" she asked, clearly fearing another unnecessary angst-filled episode.

"Nothing," I smiled shyly, "I've just… never made love in my parents' house before."

"Me neither," she smirked. I rolled my eyes and playfully swatted her shoulder. "We don't have to," she said seriously.

I smiled at her consideration and giggled a little. "I feel like we should lock the door and turn on loud music or something."

A wicked grin curled onto her beautiful lips. "I'll get the door," she offered.

"I'll get the music." I replied, quickly bouncing from the bed and over to my old stereo system.

Looking back there hasn't been a day since that I haven't felt that if Tara were a man, she would have gotten me pregnant that night. Our lovemaking was filled with such urgency and fervor it reminded me of the kind you only read about in romance novels. I have to confess, it was great.

So, we decided to have another baby. There was no question who would carry it. Tara had a severely tipped uterus, so she was incapable of having children, which left only me. I was not entirely comfortable with the idea. I loved Joshua so very much, but I still couldn't quite deal with the possibility of having another special needs baby. We didn't know why Joshua was born the way he was, so there was no way of knowing if it would happen again.

We had lots of arguments over it, even despite being unified in our decision to expand our small family. Tara worked so hard to convince me that I was worrying too much, even if it was understandable anxiety.

It took us awhile to save up enough money to pay for everything involved in the insemination process but finally, two years and a couple of attempts later, the stick turned blue. I was excited and petrified all at once, Tara was marching around like the proud papa that she was, and Joshua… well, we hadn't told him anything yet. We weren't sure he would be able to understand clearly unless the idea were more tangible. We decided to wait until I really started to show to say anything. Looking back on it, I'm still not sure if that was the right decision.

Sometimes I wonder if we had told him before, then maybe… I don't know.

J.J. was fourteen, and still my darling little boy. He still loved his cars, and watching cartoons, and eating Spaghetti-O's. He had matured in other ways. He could toilet himself, which made our lives easier, and I think gave him a greater sense of independence, even if it did seem like such a small accomplishment to the rest of the world. He dressed himself, which was sometimes a blessing and a curse depending on how creative his outfit. One time, in the middle of the summer, he came out of his room dressed in three layers of sweat clothes because he liked the way all the colors went together. It was a fight getting him out of those sweats and into something more sensible. He was a very determined little boy. I admired that about him. His vocabulary was still limited, but he had no trouble getting his point across with the few words he knew.

Perhaps Joshua's greatest accomplishment was his friends. He had quite a few. Not just at the special school he attended (he had long since outgrown Easter Seals), but outside of there too. A handful of neighborhood kids had sort of adopted him into their group. Once I was satisfied that they weren't just using Josh to satisfy some evil adolescent joke, I became eternally grateful for their near-constant presence. They watched out for him and kept any bullies at bay, and gave him a sense of belonging I don't think he'd really experienced before. Children can be cruel. But they can also be incredibly kind. Thankfully for all of us, especially Josh, these kids were the latter.

I was just about to enter my fifth month when Joshua's fifteenth birthday came around. I was showing by then, enough that anyone else would have been able to tell I was definitely expecting, but still Tara and I decided to wait in telling J.J. I don't know why, it just seemed right at the time. Still sometimes, I wonder…

Anyway, the school had thrown Joshua a small party, but Tara and I had arranged a get together for he and his neighborhood friends, as well as his extended family. My parents were coming of course, and Tara's mom and brother were coming from Albuquerque to visit. They tried to visit at least once a year, ever since Tara and I had gotten married. I loved Tara's mom. She was such a strong woman. It was easy to see where my wife had gotten her character. Her brother Donnie was a sweetheart, if a bit of a rascal at times. He had far too much love for the practical joke. But still, he was too charming not to put up with him.

We took everyone to the local amusement park. The kids had a great time tooling Josh around in one of the park's rented wheelchairs. Given his CP, he wasn't able to walk for long periods of time, and the walkways at the park seemed to crest and drop like great cement hills, so it was no difficult decision putting him in a chair for the day. At any rate, he didn't seem to mind, he was having too much fun to care.

We wouldn't let him on most of the crazy rides, which I think frustrated the other kids more than him. Even though we had told them they could ride whatever they wanted, they seemed to feel bad about doing anything without Josh. Finally, one of the kids pointed out a wooden coaster that he was proud to state, "has absolutely no loopy-loops, and the first drop isn't so bad."

After a quick conference, Tara and I relented provided that an adult rode with him in the rail car. I, of course, couldn't due to being pregnant, Tara wouldn't leave my side and neither of our parents were really up to riding a roller coaster. But Donnie had no trouble agreeing and a twenty-minute line wait and 2-minute coaster ride later, Joshua was returned to us unscathed and very hyper.

"Faster than car, Mommy!" he told me excitedly. "Fast, fast, fast!"

"Yes, very fast," I agreed, sighing internally. It was going to take a long time to calm him down after that ride.

Even in the car home, it was all he could talk about. "It was fast," he stated seriously, and repetitiously. "Fast. Faster than car. Fast."

When we tucked him into bed that night, he was exhausted, but still going on about that damn ride.

"Fast, Mommy," he said sleepily.

"I know sweetheart," I answered patiently, drawing the covers up to his chin, "you told us."

"Did you have a good birthday, son?" Tara asked, wrapping her arms around me from behind, her hands resting on my swelling belly.

"Yeah," he smiled. "Good day." He blinked, his eyelids becoming heavy. I leaned down and kissed his forehead, standing upright again with a little help from my wife.

"Love you, son," said Tara, stepping around me and leaning down to kiss him as well.

"Love you, Taddy."

Tara stood back up and whispered in my ear, "I'm going to start cleaning up."

"I'll be out in a minute," I whispered back. She gave me a quick peck on the lips and disappeared out the door and down the hall. I gazed back down at my precious boy. "I love you so much, J.J."

"Love you too, Mommy."

"You really had a good day?" I asked, somehow concerned.

"Best day, Mommy."

"Good, baby, I'm glad," I said, "Sleep now, okay?"

"Okay," he easily agreed. "Bye."

"Night," I gently corrected.

Joshua seemed to consider this a moment before finally echoing, "Night."

I caressed his head, running my fingers through his hair one last time as I watched him close his eyes. I turned off his lamp and went to leave, standing in his doorway for the longest time, watching him sleep. I somehow found it in myself to finally move the rest of the way through the door and close it behind me, going to help Tara finish cleaning up.

I hadn't known it at that moment, but Joshua had been right in saying "bye." He went to sleep on the best day of his life… and never woke up.

Tara had gotten up to get him ready for school and discovered he wasn't breathing. She tried CPR, but it was far too late. Sometime during the night his heart had just… stopped.

I don't know how she did it, but somehow Tara had the presence of mind to call an ambulance. Not for Joshua, but for me. She knew that once she told me my son was gone, I would go into shock. She knew I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I lost two babies in one day.

His doctor told us that it was a congenital heart defect that killed him. Yet another malady he had been born with. I was furious; I demanded to know why we hadn't known before. It wasn't like Joshua hadn't been to the doctor enough. We knew he had an arrhythmia, how come we didn't know about this? His answer was lame, of course at that moment I suppose any answer would have been. He suggested that the arrhythmia had masked a greater, more deadly problem and that it was sadly not uncommon for defects like this to go unnoticed.

It was all I could do to not spit in his face. Tara was stoic. She hadn't spoken too much since Josh had passed away. Instead, she focused really hard on preparations for the new baby, and making sure that I didn't go completely insane.

I didn't know what to do with myself. Joshua had been my world, my light, and now that he was gone, what was I supposed to do? Half the time it didn't feel real to me. How could it be real? How could he be gone? Sometimes I wondered if Joshua had somehow willed himself to die. If he thought that his life was never going to get any better than that day, so he decided to leave the world on the best note. It's silly, I know. Wishful thinking on the part of the grieving mother. But sometimes I think if we had just told him that he was going to be a big brother, that he would have stuck around… he would have loved his little sister.

Abigail Marie Maclay came into this world almost four months to the day that Joshua left it. She was a pretty, happy, perfectly healthy baby with no problems whatsoever aside from being a little gassy now and then. She was as perfect as Joshua had been flawed.

I miss Joshua so much.

Abby's ten now, and doing wonderfully in school. She even skipped a grade, going from fourth directly to sixth. Tara and I love her immensely and we're both so very proud she's in our lives. I just wish she could have known her older brother.

Tara got a job as a buyer for a local art gallery when Abby was two years old. She still works at Easter Seals now and then as a volunteer. So do I. But it's hard…just being around those kids.

There's a strange heaviness to our lives now that Josh is gone. Like a shadow that never really goes away. I cry every day for my son. I'm pretty sure Tara does too. She'd probably admit it if I ask her but… what's the point, really?

Tara and I are strong. There's no question that we'll be together for the rest of our lives and I take comfort in that fact. She is my strength. She'd argue that I'm the strong one but, no… it's her.

Not a day goes by that I don't find myself looking at the world and wondering "What would Josh think?", "How would Josh react?", "What would J.J. do?" I always know the answers to these questions. Josh was never a difficult child to figure out. He taught me so much about being alive and understanding the world, and I will be eternally grateful for the gift he gave me with his life.

What would J.J. do?

He'd love it all.

The End