---
After- Muriel Stuart
WHEN, on an empty night in later years
Thou ponderest over sorrowful sweet things,
While troubling with cold hands the muted strings
Of Memory's lute now silent in thine ears,
These words shall sweep with soft descent of tears--
Shall wound the air with sudden thrust of wings
Bringing the Past to thee as Winter brings
To naked boughs the colour April wears.
Thou shalt read over, in less fortunate days,
Forgotten pages till thy heart be moved
To sudden pity and to passionate praise
Of what thou didst not heed nor understand;
Letting the book drop from thy trembling hand,
"Once," thou shalt say and pause . . . "How I was loved!"
---

The hospital was pristine snow.

Turning away from the expanse of tropical sand beyond the wall of bay windows, Evelyn McCawley brushed a strand of hair from her face, concentration settling on the little bundle of energy in her stomach. Active, this boy, and a fighter. Eager to live. She could barely stand waiting to see him, and could barely stand the thought of seeing him. Odd, really.

"Danny Boy." Fingers settling on the large bump, she smiled slightly, easing into a chair just inside the nurses lounge. "I haven't forgotten you. Settle, will you?"

"Aw, Ev'lyn." The familiar southern drawl murmered from behind, tickling her ear. "He's just making up for Danny Senior's positively restrained childhood. This one has feist, but...you certain its a junior, instead of a juniorette?"

"It's a boy. I just know." And it was true. Surely God couldn't take one Danny and not return him in some way. But then, surely God hadn't been impossibly tied up that day of infamy either, had he? Standing, she pushed the angry thoughts back, allowing Rafe's arms to steady her. "Can we leave now?"

"Sure." He was watching her intently, clearly knew something was up. "Evelyn, you do want this, don't you? Just give the word and we'll cancel those tickets so fast your head'll spin..."

"No. I'm sure. Lets go back stateside. I want this kid born on home soil...yours and Danny's home soil. Lets just go, Rafe."

They sailed away from Pearl Harbor under a golden sunset.

*

"Here." Rafe's hand was warm, comforting, as he led her carefully through the flower speckled fields. "Look, I even got you home before winter killed the pretty things, Ev'lyn." Then, grin fading, he stepped back, allowing her gaze to settle more fully on the monument. "It's why I was gone longer than just the funeral. You wondered why, I remember."

Yes, Evelyn thought, she had. Pearl Harbor had been echoing with grief, and she had been only one of the survivors left to pick up scattered pieces, reform broken lives. Rafe had come back to the states for Danny's burial, but insisted she stay behind...pregnancy, nerves, a whole list of reasons her nurses side couldn't have possibly objected to. She had stayed, and told him to come back soon. Very soon.

His voice cut in, rolling drawl and memory. "That...the funeral...was over soon. Getting the monument ordered and hacked out took longer. I made them hurry, wanted to get back to you, but I wasn't about to go anywhere until one was up. He'd like it, I think, just like he'd appreciate our decision to settle back here. I want this kid to grow up where we did, Evelyn. We owe it to Danny. I owe it to Danny."

"You miss him." Ridiculously slack observation, but no words could capture it...could ever capture what she had been feeling for months now and knew Danny's boyhood friend had to be feeling ten-fold.

"I've got you, sweetheart, and he left a big, kickin part of himself in you...that's the part I'm teaching how to fly all over again someday." His smile was forced, tired, as his arm wound around her waist. "We'll be fine, Evelyn. Time heals."

*

"You ever heard the old wives tale about pilots and lost wings, Mrs. McCawley?"

Lifting her silver tea kettle and pouring liberally, Evelyn hid a smile, turning carefully and glancing at her guest. God, they were all the same these days. Fresh young upstarts...not that she was old herself...potluck journalists out for a war story. This one was a girl, no doubt fresh off a factory shift, looking to further her feminist independence with fame. "My husband needs a little time off from miltary flying...didn't he do enough that day at Pearl? I'm sure he'll be fine...tough old bones, you know...and we're hoping to start up a private airport here. Something for Danny to inherit someday."

"Danny." The girl latched onto her stomach automatically, tones faintly wistful. "I'd always thought to name my kid that."

"Perhaps you will."

"Oh, no." The tight blond curls bounced. "I was at Pearl too, ma'am...civilian, but there. Thats why my boss sent me...empathy and all that lingo. I lost my baby, and well...the doctors don't think I'll have another."

"I'm sorry." How shallow a response, how awfully shallow. Sitting beside the young reporter on the sofa, she smoothed cold hands over the brocade, gaze settling out the window. "I lost someone dear to me to war too, you know. He was a friend of my husbands...a pilot. His name was Danny."

The watchful eyes turned dark with understanding. "Your husband must've cared deeply to name his child..."

"My baby isn't his." Dangerous talk, to a reporter, but she somehow didn't think it would go far, and didn't really care if it did. Hiding the baby's paternity had never been her intention. It was Danny's blood running through the baby's veins. She couldn't claim otherwise without feeling unbearable guilt...more guilt than already. "It's Danny's. We were going to get married...he was killed. Rafe is just taking up the burden."

"They both must have loved you a great deal. Just as I can see you love them."

"Yes, I suppose so." Standing, Evelyn brushed away the emotions, forcing a steady hand. "Enough melancholy for a day...nurses orders. Let me take you down to the fields...my husband will give you fodder enough to fill a page. He loves talking and he loves regaling strangers with his victories."

The girl stood briskly, shaking her head. "I shouldn't have come bothered you. The story isn't worth your pain, or mine. I don't want to cause any more..."

"Your name is Betty." The words were soft, dry, as the nurse glanced at the business card in her hand. Fairly common name, but still..."And you're no trouble. We need to talk this out, Rafe and I. War wounds fester on silence."

*

Resting his head on a crooked arm, Rafe peered up at the bedroom ceiling, listening with shuttered eyes to the rain outside. Peaceful, clean. Mud tomorrow, wreaking hell on flight, but for now...peaceful. Opening his eyes, he turned slightly, hand finding her stomach under the sheet, fingers rubbing, soothing. Restless babe, terribly restless. Chest tightening, he sat up, watching her eyes dilate slightly as well, lips parting. "Evelyn..."

"It's time. It's time, Rafe."

"Oh, Jesus." Stumbling to his feet, he grabbed for clothes. "I thought you nurses were supposed to be good at predicting these things. Here, stand...no, forget the gown, nobody cares what you're wearing, and if they do they sure aren't focusing on the right thing." They were into the car a moment later, heading off down the bumpy dirt lane. Town was miles away, and the rain...he cursed.

"Slow down, Rafe." Her tones were remarkably calm, eyes strained in the muted light, fingers taunt on the doorframe. "First labors can take hours. Wrecking us won't do a bit of good."

"Wreck you? With this cargo?" He forced humor, pulling off to a side until the rain cleared and flashing a grin. "Pilots and cars are naturals, Ev'lyn...left hand and right hand and interchanging em, you know. It's you and that baby I'm worried about...my mother was a nurse too, did you know that?" Yes, there, McCawley, steady talk, steady nerves and steady breathing..."Somehow I once got invited along to one of her country deliveries, and watched...fainted dead away. Hell, I wasn't even a kid, almost fourteen. I swore I'd never deliver a baby."

Her gaze was tinged with pain. "Well, then, Mr. McCawley, you'd better put those hands to work and get us to a hospital...now."

He moved instantly, cranking the ignition almost deperately...and it spluttered and died, the mud refusing to give way to the tires. She bent with hysterics, clutching her stomach.

He swore.

*

Leaning back on his heels, Rafe McCawley stared at the monument before him, hands twitching awkwardly on the flower vase he held. Finally, he sat, sighing. "This is a piss poor time to visit, Danny Boy, but I'm here...and she's there, at the hospital, sleeping her precious heart out with that kid of yours. I didn't do such a bad job, he kept all ten fingers and toes...but with services rendered, she told me to come home for a while...guess I already drive her crazy...combination of her and you and mostly me. I don't think I should have told you...what kind of a buddy tells a man he's going to be a father knowing he'll never have the chance to actually know the kid? Was it knee jerk revenge? Did you think so...think that Evelyn had settled on you because of the kid? Maybe she thought that too, for a while, but I know better. She loved you, Danny Boy, not even the ghost of me could change that, and she still misses you...but this baby is bringing a big part of you back to us, and I can tell you, she's going to love it something fierce. So will I. She even wants to pass on the name...Danny Walker McCawley. Anyone willing to give a girl that monicker did a whole lot more than settle...you understand that, and shine those wings. You deserve them."

*

Placing the wildflower posey to a side, Evelyn stared down, arms crossing over a newly flat stomach, bare toes curling restlessly in the fresh grass. Glancing back up, she watched a bird swoop down over the fields and smiled slightly, wryly. "Birds are just the symbol of the way around here, aren't they, Danny?" Then, sitting, she stared at the monument intently. "I was there with your father when he died...partially duty, since the local hospital employs me. He didn't want to go to hospital...said dying at home was all he wanted. I sat by his side early into the morning, holding the baby...and his eyes, Danny. He recognized you in our son, and the joy in that gaze...I think I saw a little of what Rafe must have seen when he told you..." Her hands knotted. "And I'm sorry. Sorry for not telling you, sorry for ever making you doubt yourself or my feelings for you. I'm sorry you aren't the one sharing his growing up. If you had lived, you would be the one. Know that." Stepping back, she rubbed her forehead tiredly. "I'll never forget you. None of us will. Don't let us, Captain Walker. It's your duty until eternity. Find your peace."

And as Rafe carefully piloted Danny Junior above the sunset, she found her own.