Flack Meets His Dream

Chapter 21

After the doctor had approved Isabella's limited excursion, Don got things moving. He arranged for his mother to bring home cooked, high calorie, and balanced meals to Isabella a few times a day. Mac, Jess, or Don would cover the other meal, like breakfast for instance. Jess called Isabella's personal shopper and after telling her what had happened asked her to find an appropriate dress, shoes, and perhaps a veil for Isabella to wear to the cemetery. Jess thought that Isabella might like to have a new and special outfit to wear to such a tragic occasion, one that she would put away and never wear again.

Don and Mac decided that it would just be Don and Isabella at the cemetery. Everyone else would stay at the hospital in case she wanted them there afterwards. If she sent them away, they would be prepared for that as well.

The tiny grave site was covered in wilted flowers, although his mom and Jess had thought to remove the cards and identify the arrangements to they could send thank you notes to the sender. They did not leave that for Isabella to do. Don arranged for the flowers to be removed and fresh ones planted including some of Isabella's favorite herbs and vining plants. He also arranged for the tombstone to be rushed and put in place before Isabella just saw the small metal cross marking the grave.

It was three days of Isabella driving herself to be able to go from an utter weakling to being able to stand on her own two feet without help before she passed the doctor's first hurdle. Gaining weight was a different story. While she had never been excessively thin, her pregnancy had been difficult and she never gained very much weight. So now, after days of not eating and being on the verge of death, it was taking a lot of Trish's home cooked meals with extra butter and her homemade bread to bring Isabella's weight up to something the doctors could live with.

Don Sr. came with Trisha every day and mostly read the paper or walked the halls. Sometimes accompanying Isabella and sometimes not. The two of them had reached a quiet truce somehow and she found she wasn't so uncomfortable around him anymore.

Don met his dad coming out of Isabella's room. They stopped and looked at each other. Both Don Sr. and Don Jr. looked like they had aged more than a few decades. Don noticed his father had lost weight and his skin sagged on his face where it hadn't before.

Don pulled his father away from Isabella's door. "Dad…" he said with a question in his voice and loaded with words that could not be said between them.

"I know son, I know. And I've taken care of everything. Flowers are fresh, I cleaned off the old ones myself, and the stone was set yesterday.

Flack sighed and let his shoulders drop. He wasn't having to take the weight of the world onto his shoulders. There were others who would share it with him, even his father.

"Thanks Dad. I just don't think…"

"I know. I was just glad that there was something I could do. Now go take care of that woman of yours. I've got flowers being delivered this morning to the hospital for her to take to the cemetery."

"Seems like you thought of everything."

His dad hrumphed, "Tried to. Going for some coffee. Need any?"

"Thanks Dad. That would be great."

Four hours later, Don, dressed in a black suit and shirt, and Isabella dressed in black as well got out of the car driven by Bobby. He let them off on the drive near the new tiny grave and stayed with the car while Don helped Isabella cross the almost level grassy field. It was a very old Catholic graveyard, so some stones went back centuries. None were those new flat stones in some of the cemeteries around. All the stones were raised and had a tremendous amount of detail to them. There was nothing different about the marker for Isabella and Don's child. The stone was a fine marble Celtic cross with intricate detail. On the base was written "Jonathan Atherton Flack/In the Arms of Angels/March 13, 2009."

Isabella sank to her knees beside the stone and began to cry. The tears started slowly and then as she fell against the headstone her tears turned to keening sobs that could be heard across the silence of the cemetery. Don sat beside her on the ground and held her while she cried until she couldn't breathe any longer. Finally her breathing settled as Don stroked her hair soothingly and softly whispered a song to her. She laid the flowers at the base of the gravestone and smiled slightly at the tiny Tiffany rattle that was attached to the flowers. Someone had been very thoughtful and she would have to find out who, but not right now. Now she just wanted to sleep.

Don picked her up from the ground and helped her walk to the car, brushing the dirt from her dress and legs, although Isabella was unaware of it. Bobby helped her into the car and as soon as the car started to move, Isabella leaned against Don's shoulder while sniffling little sobs could still be heard until she finally fell asleep.

It took another several weeks for Isabella to be released from the hospital completely. She was given a complete release for any activity that she wanted to do, but mostly she spent time in the Penthouse, disinterested in most things. She did plan on returning to teaching although carrying a much smaller load than she had in the past, mostly PhD candidates. Don was amazingly patient with her. She didn't want to be touched and sex was out of the question. Occasionally, she would let him hold her while she cried herself to sleep but just as often she would sleep in another room. Even if she wouldn't allow herself to be touched, she also worried constantly about Don's safety and called him several times a day. Each time she called Don handled her with kid gloves, allowing her to express her concerns and her fears.

It was probably Jess and Mac that pulled her out of her depression. A few months after the "tragedy" as people now called it, Mac finally asked Jess to marry him. It was going to be a very quiet, private ceremony with only those from the lab and Don and Isabella. Isabella began to come back to life as she helped an enthusiastic Jess plan her wedding. Jess put Isabella in charge of as many things Isabella wanted, and because she felt she once again had a purpose Isabella's grief was shed enough for her to function and be happy for her two best friends and sharing their joy.

Mac and Isabella restarted their regularly scheduled lunches but changed the location of course. And they stopped having regularly planned dining locations. Isabella was still a little skittish about going out at all and had actually hired a body guard that Mac and Don had found for her. At one lunch, Isabella was very quiet seemingly lost in thought while Mac let her be in that space. Suddenly she spoke up, asking Mac, "Does it ever get better, Mac? Do you ever forget?"

Mac sighed and looked at the beautiful painting behind Isabella before answering. "I think you don't ever forget. I know I wouldn't want to. But I think it does get less. It isn't always as painful as it is for you now. It won't always be up front and center in your life and your mind." (props to Numb3rs for some of this thought.)

Isabella sighed and nodded her head, putting her fork down and staying quiet the rest of the meal. Mac walked her back to PP1 with her body guard following a discrete distance behind and put her in the waiting car. He nodded to the body guard and to Bobby and closed the door behind her. He sent up a slight prayer that God would begin to lighten her pain.

The Friday night group was surprised to see Isabella arrive with Don to shoot some pool and have a few drinks. Everyone was pleased and while she seemed more subdued than she had been, she still participated in the conversation around her. Don was pleased that she had started allowing him to touch her again as well and they slow danced and she snuggled under his protective arm.

After months of abstinence, they left the Friday night of pool, drinks, and dancing with Don's arm around Isabella and she smiled up at him and welcomed his touch and his protection. They walked into the Penthouse arm and arm while Isabella led the way upstairs to their bedroom. She turned to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips.

"Thank you, Don. You have been far more patient than most men, than probably any man. You have taken care of me, you have soothed me, you have given me the space I craved, and remained with me long after another would have abandoned me."

"Bella, I would never abandon you. Not ever."

"I know that now. No matter how much I wasn't sure before, I am now. Make love to me Don. Please."

"You are sure?"

"Without a single doubt. Make love to me like it was the first time."

And as if it was their first time together, Don was a gentle and as sweet as ever. Once their mutual passion was spent they lay there still connected and sweaty, he tasted her tears.

In fear he moved aside but she held him to her. "No, Don. Don't move. Just stay inside me. Stay connected to me."

"Did I hurt you? Why are you crying?"

"Because I love you so much, and that was so perfect."

Don sighed and laid his head on her chest listening to her heart slow. And then they made love again and again that night, and every night, cementing their love every time.

9 months later…

"Push, Bella, push!!! You can do this!! I can already see the head. One more push and she'll be here!"

Isabella let out a final scream as she pushed the baby from her womb finally and her exhausted and sweaty body fell back against the pillow. She sighed with relief when she heard the doctor's exclaim about her hair while the baby let out her first strong cry. The nurses quickly wrapped the baby in the blanket Don had provided. He was not going to have this baby handed to Isabella in the same blanket that he held Jonathan in. The nurses gave the baby first to Don to smile over and then he handed her to Isabella. Isabella sighed and held her baby in her arms tears falling down her face.

"Welcome to the world, Patricia Jessica Flack. You are much loved my little girl."

Fin (REALLY!)

A/N: I hope this was a satisfying ending for those few of you who stayed on me to finish this story completely. And it really is finished. I learned a good lesson from writing this story…when *I* think it is over and declare it finished, it really is. It is too easy to lose the muse if I let myself be talked into writing more. While a few are very attached to the story and were very politely 'squeaky wheels', which I appreciate, and those of you who remained in the background should thank, once I am no longer attached to a story and therefore it must end. Thank you and I'd love to hear what you think! Renee