AN: Thank you so much for the kind words and reviews on the first chapter. Sorry I've been MIA. This is a busy season in life. This story came about because of a reader request during the publishing of Orphan Train. I wrote the bulk of the story during NaNoWriMo 2020 while I had COVID. It's just taken more than a year to get it edited to some sort of publishable phase.

I hope Hetwaszoietsals will be happy with the end product. As always, I'd love to hear what you think. Please leave a review.

Chapter 2

Joan Bryan was sitting in her recliner. It was 3 pm on a Saturday afternoon. She had nothing to do and nowhere to be. She had rolled her hair for Mass the following day, but Saturday was her lazy day. She was still in her floral, cotton housecoat, sipping her coffee, and just settling into her latest Harlequin romance.

The knock at the door startled her, and her coffee sloshed out of the cup and onto the ivory, crocheted doily that adorned the walnut side table. She pushed out of her chair, muttering about the rudeness of someone to even think about bothering her on her Saturday, and then she peered out the small window to the side of the door. A Virginia state trooper was standing there, hands behind his back, staring at the doormat.

Joan's eyes went wide and her heart jumped to her throat. Her kids? They were all grown and had families of their own. Surely, the troopers weren't coming to tell her something about them. Maybe there was some sort of crime in the area. It must be something like that. Finally, she gathered herself enough to open the door.

"Hello, may I help you?" she asked, surprising herself at the authority in her voice, given the unease she felt.

"Are you Joan Bryan?" the officer asked, glancing at his notepad.

"Yes, sir, Officer," she shifted her gaze to his breast pocket where the shiny, gold nameplate was affixed. "Shepard." Her eyes darted back. "I'm Joan Bryan."

"Do you have a brother named Benjamin Adams?" the man questioned again.

"Yes, Ben is my youngest brother. What is your business with him?" Joan was suddenly agitated. This man was bothering her on a Saturday because of something with Ben. Good grief! He should just drive across town and talk to him.

"Ma'am. There's been an accident. I'm going to need you to come to the hospital."

She suddenly realized that whatever happened must be bad if the officer was coming to collect her. "What kind of accident? Where's Susie? Someone will need to be with her, and the kids. Where are the kids?"

"Mrs. Bryan, I'm sorry to have to be the one to inform you, but Benjamin and Suzanne Adams were involved in a single car accident this afternoon around 1:20 pm. Both were pronounced dead at the scene." Joan felt like she'd been punched, so much so that she actually took a step backward. Her hand flew to her mouth and it took a full five seconds before she could make the words come out of her mouth.

"The kids?" she whispered, her voice cracking.

"William is at the hospital. The daughter…" he quickly flipped the page on his notepad. "...Elizabeth is being brought there by another officer." He studied her for a moment. "Do you need a ride?"

Joan shook her head and absentmindedly waved him away. "No, no, I've got it. Thank you for letting me know." She stepped back, pushed the door shut and fell against it. There was crushing pressure in her chest "You just couldn't let me have my Saturday, could you Benji?" she mumbled, a shuddering breath falling from her lips. Joan pushed off the door and started pulling the rollers from her hair as she headed to the bedroom to change.

It wasn't fifteen minutes later that Joan pulled out of her driveway into the narrow neighborhood street. Glancing up into the rearview mirror, she realized that she hadn't combed her curls out and instinctively touched her chest. At least she'd had the wherewithal to put on a bra.

She reflected on her situation. She was 60, the oldest of the Adams siblings. Her sister, Gwen, only eighteen months younger, had passed away almost 4 years ago and that nearly killed her. Brothers, Jeff and Thom had left the area and while there had never been any kind of falling out, the distance made it difficult to be close. Then there was Ben, He was the baby, her junior by fourteen years. An afterthought for the most part, the other kids half grown by the time he came along. Yet, she'd always had a connection with him. She mothered him as much as their own mother did. They were close, and when her own husband passed, there was never a question about where she would end up. She'd moved back to Charlottesville. That was close to ten years ago now.

Her own children, Junior, Billy and Sarah were off in various parts of the country living their own lives. Junior and Sarah were married with children and Billy told her he'd never found anyone, but she wasn't oblivious to the fact that his "friend," Dominick, was much more than a friend. He'd never divulged anything to her and it seemed that was the path of least resistance. If she wasn't faced with it, she never had to have a response. It didn't match her Catholic faith, but Billy was her son. She loved him unconditionally and would never turn him away.

Joan shook her head, attempting to clear her thoughts. There were more pressing matters to deal with. The kids, Lizzie and Wil, were at the hospital. The officer made it sound as though Will was with Ben and Susie, while Lizzie was not. She hadn't thought to ask if he'd been injured. Joan's stomach rolled. As bad as this was, she prayed that Will was ok, at least physically. The kids would be her responsibility now. Joan wondered if the kids knew that, if that had ever come up. It was unlikely. She hoped the kids would be alright with her as their guardian.

The memory materialized as though it had happened in recent days, rather than more than 15 years ago. Ben sat in her living room, in the olive green armchair. Susie sat next to him, on the arm, looking less than comfortable, her belly so round that it looked like a balloon stretched to its limits. They had made the three hour drive to visit Joan and her husband, Robert. After the pleasantries, Joan had become concerned, when Ben's expression grew earnest and he leaned forward in his chair, his hand reaching out to take Susie's. She squeezed it and nodded.

"Joan, we are here to ask you a difficult question. Susie lost her parents recently and she has no siblings. Our parents are older and not in the best health." He stopped and seemed to be gathering the courage to speak.

"Ben?" Joan asked.

"If anything would ever happen to us, would you be willing to take our child as your own?" Susie rushed to finish what her husband was struggling to say..

Joan felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. "Is there a reason to believe that something is going to happen?"

They both shook their heads. "We just want to be prepared. We want to know that our kids would be taken care of should the unthinkable happen."

"Kids?" she asked.

"Well, we hope there will be at least one more," Susie shrugged. "But, of course, that's not a given, I suppose."

"Wouldn't Thom be a better choice? His kids are younger. Mine will be out of the house in just a few years. Don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to argue. I just want to understand." Joan's brow furrowed as she studied her brother.

Ben shrugged and gave her a lopsided grin. "Because you're my Joanie, and I wouldn't want anyone else to raise my kids if I couldn't." Her brother hadn't needed to offer another reason. Joan understood and agreed. That was the last time it was spoken of. Nothing else had ever been said.

Joan pulled into the visitor's space at the hospital and she rested her head on the steering wheel and her eyes burned as the tears fought to escape. "Damn you, Benji."

— ∞ —

Elizabeth sat in the back of the trooper's car, her head pressed to the window. After the first time, she asked what happened and the officer evaded the question, she didn't ask again. She knew it wasn't good. The fear pressed against her chest and grew worse with each breath she took, coiling into a tight ball. By the time that the car pulled in front of the emergency room entrance, Elizabeth was nearly paralyzed. When the officer opened the door, she fell out. He quickly caught the young girl by the shoulder and offered his hand to help her from the car.

1, 2, 3, 4. She followed the officer through the double doors and down the wide corridor past the nurse that sat at the desk. He gave a nod and Elizabeth looked up just in time to see the nurse look toward the officer and point down the hall. Her expression was blurred, but she assumed it was similar to the way he looked at her. Elizabeth dropped her head, staring at the officer's black shoes, once again. 21, 22, 23..

The man stopped short and Elizabeth barely missed running into him. She peered around the corner and saw Will sitting in a chair in a small room. He sat with his elbows propped on a round table, head in his hands, a white box sitting in front of him. The officer stepped to the side and when she made no move, he gestured for her to join Will, which she did, walking slowly into the room. 33, 34, 35. She stubbed her toe against the table leg that poked out from the table, one she hadn't seen. The table shook and Will shifted his eyes just enough to see who it was without actually turning his head to look. Slowly, Elizabeth pulled out the chair and waited for a wisecrack from Will about showing up late or missing the party, but it never came. He sat with his head down.

She finally slid into the seat and noted that the white box was really a styrofoam cup. She frowned. "Hey," she said softly.

He looked up. His eyes were ringed with red from crying. "They died, Lizzie. Mom and Dad are dead."

That ball of fear exploded inside her, ripping her apart from the inside out. She'd imagined a variety of scenarios, none of which had both of her parents dying. The pain was so great that she didn't know what to do with it. So she sat very still and found that if she concentrated, she could force the pain down into a deep hole of emptiness. Elizabeth sat quietly until she thought she could speak without falling apart. "I know," she lied.

Why she said that she wasn't sure. Maybe it was because she was older and thought that it would be reassuring for Will to think that she had it under control. "Are you hurt?" she finally asked when the thought occurred to her.

He shook his head. "No, but I wish I were."

"I'm glad you aren't. I don't want to be alone. I need you," Elizabeth said, quickly reaching out to touch his arm.

— ∞ —

Joan walked into the emergency room waiting area, her legs feeling like there were cement blocks attached to them. But, still, she moved forward. She wasn't sure how much more there would be to unpack than two devastated teenagers. Approaching the receptionist, Joan cleared her throat and the woman looked up. She could tell it had been a long day for her as well. The lady was petite, dark haired, and it was pulled into a tight bun low on the back of her head, worry lines ran deep across her forehead and her lips seemed to be permanently pulled into a tight line. Joan decided that there probably wasn't much to smile about in the ER, but it made her look older than her thirtysomething years. At least that was her best guess.

"Can I help you?" came the expected question.

"My name is Joan Bryan. I was asked to come. My brother, he…" suddenly she realized she hadn't had to actually verbalize it, and to do so would make the situation all the more real. Instead, she shifted, "Was brought in this afternoon. He and his wife."

The woman's eyes widened for a split second and then a blanket or recognition and sadness filled them. "Oh, yes, ma'am. You're here to collect the children?"

"I suppose I am, but I would like to speak to the doctor first," Joan said. The woman seemed surprised and Joan followed it with, "I'm sure the kids will have questions and I want to be able to answer honestly if I can."

The woman nodded and simply said, "I'll get him."

Moments later, Joan found herself sitting in a very small "Consultation Room." The round table and four chairs nearly filled the space making it extremely claustrophobic. Joan decided that maybe the uncomfortableness of being closed into this room was supposed to take one's mind off of the inevitable bad news that would be shared.

"Mrs. Bryan?" the baritone voice cut through the silence making her jump. The man in the doorway was tall, and broad shouldered, decked out in the standard white coat, complete with his name embroidered in dark green, presumably to match the hospital logo of the same color.

"Dr. Mitchell," she read. "Thank you for coming to speak with me. As I told the woman out front, I just wanted to be prepared for any questions the children may have."

"I see. Yes, unfortunately, I don't have much in the way of official information. The parents died at the scene and were actually transported to the county morgue directly. I only worked with William, checking him over to make sure he had no injuries. And he's fine," the doctor quickly followed, "Other than a few bumps and bruises."

Joan nodded, thinking that was all she would get, but then he continued. "I'm sure you can get more information from the coroner, but based on the information the paramedics shared when they arrived with the boy, it was a rollover crash. That almost always means head or chest trauma, especially for those in the front seat." He paused for a beat, while Joan processed that. He pushed back his chair and started to stand, but stopped in mid-rise. "I'm sorry for your loss." He stood fully and as he opened the door, his final words were, "The children are next door."

Joan sat for a moment, praying, and then letting out a labored breath, she pushed herself up from the table. The reality of what was about to happen weighed heavily on her. She was about to get her niece and nephew and take them as her own. "Damn you, Ben, for dying," she muttered as she pushed open the door.

Elizabeth and Will were sitting in silence for what seemed like the longest time when the door opened causing both of them to turn toward the sound. Aunt Joan stood there, looking as downtrodden as Elizabeth felt. "Hi, guys." She stepped into the room and pushed the door closed behind her.

The hole within Elizabeth suddenly erupted with emotion and before she could stop herself, she catapulted herself from the chair and clung to Joan, tears streaming down her face. When she finally gained some control over herself, she realized that Will also stood with them. She looped her arm around his waist pulling him into the huddle as well.

When the tears stopped streaming, Joan broke away. "We need to decide where to spend the night. Your house or mine?" Elizabeth just had to glance at Will to know that the thought of staying at their own home pained him as much as it did her.

"Yours," Elizabeth croaked, her voice scratchy from crying.

Joan nodded. "We're going to run by your house so you can get some clothes. We'll have some things we need to decide in the morning." When Will gave Joan a confused look, she simply said, "Arrangements must be made."

Joan took each of them by the hand and led them from the hospital. To Elizabeth, it seemed like kind of a childish thing to hold hands with someone as she crossed the parking lot, but at the same time, it was comforting and even Will didn't fuss about it.

They made the drive across town in silence and Elizabeth normally would have insisted on sitting in the front seat, but she took note of the way that Will huddled against the door in the back seat. Without saying anything, she slipped into the seat opposite him. She reached across the spanse and he immediately grasped her hand.

The house was dark when they entered and Elizabeth was struck by how it already felt different. The air seemed heavier, the shadows darker, the mood despondent.

Joan prodded them to get a change of clothes and whatever toiletries they would need. Elizabeth entered her bedroom and was faced with the mess that had been abandoned in her rush to go with the officer. It felt like years ago that Jimmy had been in her bed and she was so close to giving herself to him.

The bedsheets were rumpled. Her jeans were tossed on the floor, one leg pulled inside out. Her shirt, hanging off her nightstand. The scene made her embarrassed, and the speed at which Jimmy fled, left Elizabeth bereft.

Quickly, she gathered her clothing and tossed it in the hamper in the corner. She straightened the bedding and was just pulling her drawer open to fetch some pajamas when Joan cleared her throat, startling Elizabeth.

"Are you almost ready?" Joan asked.

Elizabeth nodded, and she found herself folded into Joan's arms. "We'll make it. It's hard, but we'll make it." She let Joan hug her but felt guilty that she should've been thinking about her parents, but was focused on her thwarted attempt at sex. Where was Jimmy? Did he know what had happened? Would he call? She wanted him to.

Elizabeth gathered her clothes and shoved them in a duffle. She met Will and Joan downstairs and they left quietly.

That night, Elizabeth pulled a quilt up high around her neck and begged sleep to come. She could faintly hear Joan on the other end of her ranch style home making phone calls to family members. There were several versions of the same speech. "I have some bad news." "There was an accident." "Ben and Susie didn't make it." "I have the kids."

After about the twentieth call, Elizabeth couldn't stand it anymore. She rolled out of bed and made her way across the hall and knocked softly on the door. When there was no response, she opened the door a crack. "Will? You awake"

He didn't speak, but she heard him sigh. Her lip quirked into a slight grin. Will was the king of the exasperated sigh. She crossed the room, stumbling over the shoes he'd kicked off in the middle of the floor. She landed against the edge of the bed.

"Geez, Lizzie. Watch what you're doing!" Then he stopped.

This was typically the point where the two of them would get in a shouting match. She would call him a doofus. He would call her an egg head and it would escalate from there. But Elizabeth didn't feel like arguing and she didn't think Will did either. "I'm sorry. I tripped."

Will rolled over to lay flat on his back. "Yeah," he mumbled.

Elizabeth chewed her bottom lip trying to find something, anything to say. "Joan is calling everyone. She's planning on keeping us. Is that ok with you?" The only light in the room came from a single bulb night-light whose light filtered in from the hallway. She pushed her glasses up and squinted, trying to bring Will's face into focus, but she couldn't quite do it.

"I don't know that it makes a difference," he mumbled. "I like Joan alright if that's what you are asking."

"I'm not sure what I'm asking. It's not like we're closer to someone else." Elizabeth's words were soft. She didn't want to offend Joan by having the discussion with Will, but she felt like they needed to at least talk about it.

"We're not," came the reply and at least that part seemed settled. Now the silence between them became overwhelming. Elizabeth desperately felt the need to connect with Will, but she didn't know how. Up until this day, they had pretty much walked the same path, but now the path split. He went one way and she was stuck going the other. She lamented her decision to stay home and the reason why, even more.

"I should've come with you. I should've been there,"Elizabeth said.

"Like you could've done something!" Will snapped.

Elizabeth jumped backwards, shocked at his response, but it was immediately followed with a much quieter, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she said, even though his words pierced her in a way that she couldn't quite explain. "I just meant you shouldn't have had to be alone. I'm sorry I left you alone."

She pushed herself up and fled the room, tears building up making her eyes sting and the pressure almost painful. Elizabeth made it back to the bed and slipped beneath the covers before she let those tears fall.