A/N: I love it I see a review that asks for something and I've already written it. Tommy makes an appearance here. I'm hoping I did it justice. Enjoy!

Oh and as a teaser, Elizabeth's aunt makes Maureen look like a cuddly little puppy.

Chapter 21

After a full Christmas breakfast and lots of goodbyes and promises to visit soon, Elizabeth and Henry were off to Connecticut to see Elizabeth's aunt and uncle, Brenda and Geoffrey Adams, and her brother, Will. Henry relaxed in the driver's seat, settling into the almost 8 hour drive. But, for as relaxed as Henry was, Elizabeth was anxious. She knew that Henry had been nervous for her to meet his parents and while the visit wasn't without a little rockiness at first, she thought it had gone pretty well. She had no such hope for her side of the family. Her aunt and uncle had never had much use for her, so the thought of dragging Henry into that oh so happy environment, was enough to make Elizabeth ill.

"Babe," Henry reached across and took her hand, "it will be fine."

"What will be fine? I didn't say anything." she said, hoping not to cause him alarm.

"You're worried and I'm a big boy. I can deal with whatever happens. You put up with my family for the last 10 days. I can handle yours."

"That's different, and I still didn't say anything about it."

"You're grinding your teeth, and you only do that when you are really stressed out."

"Oh," Elizabeth sat back and closed her eyes. "You know, sometimes it's creepy how in tune you are to me."

"Creepy is the new caring," he said chuckling.

She turned to him and smiled. "I do love you, creepy and all."

As the miles fell away, Elizabeth dozed off and on and Henry listened to the radio. They stopped for gas and drinks. Getting back on the road, Elizabeth produced the bag of chocolate chip cookies that Henry's mom had sent along. "Want one?" she offered.

"Sure," Henry replied taking a couple out of the bag. She eyed the second cookie and he grinned at her. "Hey, do you still have your list of questions from Mass last night?"

"Yeah, let me find my purse." She unhooked her seatbelt and threw herself over the seat to dig around in the back. "Got it," She grunted as she pulled herself back over and into a sitting position. Fastening the seatbelt again, she said, "Most of the questions have to do with a couple of things. What is the purpose of all of the sitting, standing and kneeling and how does everyone know when do a certain thing at certain times?"

"I think the easiest way to explain it is to think of Mass as a play and the priest has the role of Jesus. If you were in the presence of Jesus, you would stand out of respect. If Jesus sat down to teach, you would sit and listen, and if you witnessed Jesus perform a miracle, you would fall on your knees in adoration. So the different postures match what is happening during Mass."

Elizabeth furrowed her brow in thought trying to remember what was happening when the people were doing different things. "I'll have to go next Christmas and see if it makes more sense."

"You're most definitely welcome to go next Christmas, but you could also come with me on Sunday."

"It's the same thing every time? All of the prayers and everything, every week? Doesn't it get boring?"

"It's like a play, remember. The priest is acting out the part of Jesus. It's the same every time. Now depending on the time of year, some things change a little, like there wouldn't be a manger blessing every time or for certain times of the year, certain prayers are chosen over others, but the flow and participation is the same." He checked to make sure she was still with him before continuing. "Some people may find it boring, others taking comfort in the familiarity, and others immerse themselves in the whole experience, so it's definitely not boring to them. It would be more rejuvenating for their soul."

"How is it for you?" she asked sincerely.

"It varies. Most of the time it fills me up spiritually, sometimes it is comforting, and occasionally it's nothing. That's usually how I know I'm missing something in my life."

Elizabeth thought about that for a while. It did explain how everyone seemed to know exactly what was coming next and could rattle off all those prayers without thinking about it. Then her mind wandered to Henry's answer and she tried to figure out how she was filled up spiritually, or if that was even a part of herself that got any attention. A better question was if she even had a spirit. That's a comforting thought. She grimaced.

"What's bothering you?" concern evident in his voice.

"Nothing," she mumbled as she turned to look out the window.

"Not true, but if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine." After a few minutes, Henry ventured to change the subject. "Anything else on your list?"

Absentmindedly, she looked down at it. "Oh yeah, what's with the weird statues that don't look like they belong in a church?"

Henry looked vexed. "Which ones?"

"The one of the man angel creature spearing the ghoulish dragon looking thing and the woman with the snake wrapped around her feet."

"Oh," he chuckled, "I've never heard them described in exactly that manner before. That's kind of funny. I can see it though." He glanced over at her. She was staring intently at him. "The angel is St. Michael the Archangel. He is the chief opponent of Satan and evil in general. The ghoulish guy is Satan and Michael is crushing him. The woman is Mary and she's actually stepping on the head of the serpent that gave Eve the forbidden fruit. Eve represents the downfall of man and Mary is the opposite. She birthed mankind's savior, thereby crushing the serpent, or Satan."

"That's sort of morbid, and not very warm and fuzzy."

"Well, I'm not sure I'd call Catholicism warm and fuzzy. There are hundreds of saints that were martyred. Wars fought over protecting Catholics or destroying them. A lot of Catholic history is gruesome, but that's not all it is. There is Truth and beauty also." Henry waited for a moment before continuing. "Evidently you missed the St George statue in the back of the nave."

"I guess I did. Why? And what, or where, is the nave?"

"St George is mounted on a horse that is rearing up while slaying a dragon."

"Oh, and the nave?" She wrinkled her nose.

"It's the official name for the part of the church where the people sit. The sanctuary is where the altar and Tabernacle are and the sacristy is the room behind the sanctuary where the priest gets ready for Mass."

"Do Catholics have special names for everything?" Elizabeth smirked.

"I'm not sure, since I only know the Catholic words. They're probably special though." He placed his hand on her thigh and she laced her fingers in his.

They fell back into silence. Still thinking, she sighed, "If you don't have some sort of religion that fills you up spiritually, what does? Or are you just without? And what does that mean?"

Henry pondered that for a while before speaking. "Well, I think your spirit and your soul are one in the same, and everyone has a soul. Our thoughts and actions all have an effect on our souls. In my mind, religion helps by laying out the ideal, so you know what your end game is. It seems that you can have a good soul without it. There are many good people in the world that don't follow a religion." Henry stopped and tried to think about what she was getting at. "What's really bothering you?"

"I'm not spiritual. Like not at all. What guides me though? How do I know if I'm no longer a good person, or if I even am to start with?"

"Elizabeth, you are one of the most good and kind hearted people I know. I've never known you to be anything other than good. I don't think you need to do meditation or read religious books or even go to church to be good. Now, as to what guides you, I would guess your heart and dedication to serve others have a lot to do with it but I can only tell you what I see."

"Hmm," she thought on that for a few minutes and then her stomach growled. "Hey, it's almost 2. Do you want to stop and get something real to eat? I can drive after if you want."

"That sounds good. Those cookies are giving me a sugar overload."

After stopping for a meal and gas, Elizabeth got behind the wheel. They listened to the radio for a bit and were just comfortable being together in the silence. Eventually, Henry reached around the seat and grabbed his book and settled in. Elizabeth was thinking about something she had heard last night, but was trying to decide if she should bring it up. Finally curiosity got the best of her and she spoke. "Henry, can I ask you something?"

"Sure babe. Anything"

"Even if it's personal?"

Reaching out to take her hand, he spoke, "Of course. There isn't anything that I wouldn't share with you."

"Who's Tommy?"

"Oh," Henry pulled his hand back and turned to look out the window.

Elizabeth glanced over at him. "I'm sorry Henry. If it's something that I don't need to know, just tell me. I'm fine-."

"No. It's not that." Henry cut her off. She could tell by his voice that he was near tears. She wanted to speak, to tell him it would be ok, but she knew she needed to wait. She had to let him come to her on his own terms, like he had done with her so many times before.

"I'm guessing you picked that up from Maggie." he asked.

"Yes." she answered.

Henry drew in a ragged breath. "Tommy Marshall was my best friend since we were little. Mrs. Montgomery watched both of us while our mothers worked. We went to the same school, played on all of the same teams, were altar boys together. Basically we were inseparable."

"How did he die?"

"When we were 11, I got the flu and had to stay in bed for a week. All of the neighborhood boys went down to the lake to play hockey. Everyone but me. Tommy and another kid went through the ice. The boys were able to pull James out, but by the time they got him pulled to safety, Tommy had gone under. It was an hour or so before they could locate him and break the ice to pull him from the lake and by then it was too late.."

Unnoticed by Henry, Elizabeth had pulled off the interstate and parked. She put her hand on the back of his neck and pulled Henry to her. "I'm so sorry baby."

Henry let go and sobbed against Elizabeth's shoulder. "It should have been me you know. I was always the one who played against James. If I hadn't been sick, I would have been in that spot. He died because I wasn't there."

"Oh, Henry, no." She just held him close, having no other way to comfort him.

When he calmed down, she pulled back to look into his eyes. "Why haven't you told anyone that before now?"

Henry couldn't hide his surprise. "How did you know?"

"I just did. Maybe I know what that kind of pain looks like. So?"

"When it happened, I was devastated. I remember crying into my pillow and my dad came into my room and told me to quit crying like a baby, that I needed to be a man."

"You were 11?" she asked. Henry nodded.

"It was much later that I realized the 'bury your emotions mentality' was a bunch of bullshit, but I had buried the guilt of Tommy's death so far down that I didn't ever bother to ever really acknowledge it. Until now."

"Is that why you never told me?"

" I did think about it a couple of times, but to be honest, me losing my friend doesn't seem like a big deal compared to your losing your parents. That, and I didn't want to seem like I was trying to show you up-certainly about something so serious as the death of loved ones."

"Henry, you know I would never look at it that way."

"I know. Maybe that's one of those rational versus irrational thoughts."

She grinned, "Probably." She paused for a moment. "You know that Tommy didn't die in your place, right? Rationally, I mean. It was an accident. It had nothing to do with you being there or not being there."

"Rationally I know that.", he murmured.

"And yet…"

"Yet I still have those thoughts."

I'm guessing it's the same way with me wondering why I didn't go with my parents that day or why Will and the driver of the other car survived and my parents did not. We can think about all of the possibilities, but it doesn't change what happened. It's very possible that it could have been Tommy home sick and he died of complications of the flu. Maybe it was just his time. On one hand that totally pisses me off but on the other, it helps me to think that something would have happened no matter what. It just happened to be a car accident or falling through the ice." Elizabeth took a deep breath, "I'm no help at all here. am I?" She leaned in and kissed him.

"Actually you being here and listening is very helpful." Henry kissed her softly. "But, we need to get back on the road or we are going to be way late."

Pulling back on to the highway, Elizabeth was reminded that there were only a few hours that separated her from her family. She figured she would have an ulcer by the time they arrived