THE HOLE IN THEIR HEARTS

The boys had all been spring babies and it was already March, so Sue was optimistic about seeing each of her sons' birthdays for that year. Greg turned ten and she was able to hang on for that; then Peter turned seven, by which time she was completely bedridden and could no longer stay on her feet, even with help. Mike and Alice got used to carrying her together, wherever she wanted to go.

Neither Greg's nor Peter's birthdays had been very happy occasions. Even Bobby understood by now that his mother was dying and that one day soon, she would no longer be part of their lives. As the last few weeks before Bobby's fourth birthday wound down, Sue asked to be ensconced in the living room, so that Mike could sleep in peace each night (he never found the heart to tell her that his despair over her impending death was robbing him of the sleep she thought her absence would afford him) and she could still feel a part of things, whenever the boys watched television or played in the living room.

Even Tiger seemed to understand that Sue wasn't to be with them much longer. When Greg and Peter were in school, Bobby was napping and Alice went shopping, Tiger would stay beside Sue, as if keeping watch over her, till someone else came home. Bobby often woke from his nap to find Sue asleep and Tiger's head resting on the sofa cushion beside her.

Sue still read to Bobby, determined to make as many good memories for her youngest son as she could while she had the chance. Even after she got too weak to hold up the book and Bobby had to do it for her, she still read to him. Tiger would sit nearby as if listening.

Finally Bobby's birthday arrived and he was ecstatic; Sue was delighted that she'd made it this far. She knew she looked like a living skeleton, but she just couldn't refuse Bobby's insistence on having his picture taken with her. She smiled gamely, wondering what on earth Bobby would think of that photo in the years to come.

And with those thoughts came her first considerations of what would happen to Mike, Greg, Peter and Bobby after her death. Oh, the house would still run smoothly, she knew, thanks to Alice; but once they got used to her absence, how would they cope? What would they do? The day after Bobby's birthday, she caught Mike after the boys were in bed for the night and asked in her now-thready voice, "Honey…can we talk for a while?"

"Sure, sweetheart, of course," Mike said instantly and settled on the end of the couch, lifting Sue's feet and propping them onto his lap. She smiled at him and he smiled back, trying to look normal. He'd struggled to maintain some façade of normality all this time, but Sue could see the haunted expression in his eyes, the barely leashed fear of her approaching death and its aftermath.

"Mike, you're holding your feelings back, aren't you," Sue murmured.

He opened his mouth, but she gave him her very best maternal glare, and he sighed. "I don't know what we're going to do without you, honey," he admitted at last, his voice shaking a little, thickening noticeably. "Nothing will be right without you around."

Sue smiled again, faintly. "You'll get used to it in time," she said a little absently. "You'll have to, honey, there'll be no choice. But…I was just thinking. I didn't want to, because I was concentrating so hard on being here for Bobby's birthday. But I made my last goal, and now I can think about other things, and it surprised me…I mean, I never thought about what might happen after I'm gone."

"I'd rather not talk about it," Mike said, looking away.

"Honey, please," Sue pleaded. "I hate the idea myself. You know perfectly well that if it were up to me, if I had my preferences, I'd wish myself well again and be here to see the boys into adulthood and grow old with you. But I can't control that. It's out of my hands. I have to face that my days are numbered, and you and the boys have to face the fact that you've got to keep living after I'm gone." She suddenly grinned. "I do have one wish though. I'd love to come back as, oh, I don't know, a houseplant that Alice picks up at the market, and witness whatever happens and whatever you do after I'm gone."

Mike stared at her in disbelief, and finally half-grinned at the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Sue, honey, you can be really irreverent, you know that?"

"That's me," Sue said whimsically, then sobered again. "But really, Mike, I have been thinking about it. And it occurs to me…well, I hate the idea and I'm jealous as all get-out at the merest thought, but it's not as if I could do anything about it. And by then it wouldn't matter anyway. But Mike, what I'm getting at is that…you shouldn't live the rest of your life alone. The boys need a mother."

"They have you," said Mike stubbornly.

"Michael Paul Brady," Sue admonished sternly. Much of the effect was lost in her whispery-thin voice, but he got the message anyway. "Soon they won't have me, and you know it. Stop denying it."

Mike's body sagged back and Sue felt him relax completely under her feet. He looked thoroughly dejected and lost, and her heart went out to him. "I can't even think of a thing like that, not now."

"I know," she said gently. "But one day, I think you should. You're a wonderful man, Mike. I've been so lucky to be your wife and the mother of your children. Nothing's going to change the fact that I bore your sons, even if I don't wake up tomorrow morning. But since they're going to grow up without me, they need…they need someone else. There are some things boys need to learn about girls, things only a mother can tell them."

"Alice can do that," said Mike. After almost five years with the Brady family, Alice felt like a permanent fixture, practically a family member herself.

"Alice is here to cook and clean and keep house," Sue began.

"She mothers the boys almost as much as you would if you had the strength," Mike informed her. "They know you can't do much more than talk to them anymore, and they've been going to her for stuff like patching up scrapes and mediating arguments." He shook his head forlornly. "She already makes such a great substitute, there'll be no reason for me to marry again. And how on earth could I ever fall in love again, after having you in my life?"

Sue made a noise equivalent to the shrug she no longer had the strength to execute. "Well, maybe you will, maybe you won't. I don't know, nobody does. But if you ever do meet a woman you think could be special to you, for heaven's sake don't make a martyr out of me. If you meet her and it feels right for you, then don't hold back. You might not meet her, but then again, you might—so don't rule out the possibility."

"It's too much for me to grasp. I…I just don't have the capacity to think about it. And it'll be a long time before I do," Mike informed her flatly. "A very long time. If you don't realize that, then you have no idea at all of the magnitude of my love for you."

Sue blinked, feeling her eyes sting. "Mike, you know I love you. I love you the way I didn't think it was possible to love someone. I've had twelve fabulous and wonderful years with you, from the day we first met. You know I'd be glad if I somehow got more, but…oh Mike, I'm so glad I had those twelve years. I'm glad for the time we've had, and our boys, and our wonderful life together."

"I am too," Mike said, his voice reduced to a thick whisper. He rose, knelt beside her and gently gathered her into his embrace. Sue breathed him in, etching the familiar feel and scent of him into her mind, cherishing this moment.

‡ ‡ ‡

Sue had drifted into her usual morning nap while Bobby slept upstairs and Alice was busy with laundry, and Tiger had thumped into his accustomed spot by the sofa and rested his head on his paws. The washing machine was making the usual noise, and Alice was about ready to take a load out to hang on the backyard clothesline when Tiger appeared in the doorway, whining loudly.

Alice stared at him in surprise; rarely did he come downstairs. "What's the matter, boy?" she encouraged the dog. Tiger turned toward the stairs, took a few steps, paused and looked back at her, and whined again. She frowned, put down the laundry basket and started for the laundry-room door, at which point Tiger bounded up the steps, barking. Alice managed to track him into the living room, where she saw him standing by the sofa where Sue lay. "Mrs. Brady, are you okay?" Alice asked, noting how Tiger pushed his nose repeatedly at Sue's hand, which dangled off the sofa.

Sue didn't stir; she didn't even twitch. "Mrs. Brady…?" Alice began, before she really noticed the sound of Tiger's urgent, high-pitched whine. At that point Alice knew. She didn't want to believe it, and she reached over and lifted Sue's limp wrist, pressing her fingers on the inside, searching for a pulse. There was none, and Alice tried Sue's neck, again to no avail. "Mrs. Brady, please…" Alice breathed, a frantic whirlpool beginning to churn inside her. Desperate, she peeled back the light blanket and laid her head on Sue's chest, praying for a heartbeat—and hearing nothing at all. Nor did she hear the light, nearly inaudible sound of Sue's breathing; the chest did not rise and fall. Sue was still warm, but there was no mistaking the fact that at some point during her nap, she had quietly passed on.

Shaking, Alice ever so gently laid Sue's hand over her stomach, then backed a step or two away from the sofa before sprinting into the kitchen. There she fumbled with the little telephone directory that lay on a table under the wall-mounted phone and finally found Mike's office number, which she dialed with fingers that she could barely fit into the holes. She couldn't believe how slowly the dial rotated back to its original position each time she released it.

Finally she heard the buzzes, then a crisp female voice. "Matthews and Phillips Architects."

"I need to speak to Michael Brady, please," Alice said. Even her voice shook now. "It's urgent."

"One moment," came the reply, and it seemed to be the longest moment Alice had ever spent. She could still hear Tiger whining in the living room, and it gave her the creeps.

"Michael Brady," she heard at last.

"Mr. Brady, this is Alice. It's…it's Mrs. Brady…she—she—" Alice sucked in a breath, and on the other end she heard Mike do the same.

"Alice, is Sue okay?" he exclaimed.

"No, Mr. Brady, I'm s-sorry," Alice managed, before her voice gave out on her. There were tears streaming down her cheeks. "I just…just found her. She's g-gone, Mr. Brady. I…think you should come home right away."

"I'll be right there," Mike said, and his voice was followed by a sharp click. Alice slowly hung up and stood there letting tears rain down her face for a moment, allowing herself a minute or two of grief.

Then Tiger barked, and suddenly she heard a pair of feet hit the floor from Peter and Bobby's room and winced. "Mommy!" Bobby called. "Can we read now? I'm awake!" And Alice Nelson burst into tears.