Chapter Four
Laura froze. Why hadn't she realized it before? The resemblance was there; really, it was almost impossible to miss.
Her fear that he would see her faded as she realized that he was looking right through everyone. The only time there was a spark of recognition in his eyes was when his gaze settled on Robert's daughter. Laura relaxed, and a fresh wave of tears fell as she felt his palpable grief hit her with unexpected force. She unconsciously squeezed Amy's hand.
Mac gave his niece a small smile. He felt his chest tighten as she tried to return it, her face crumpling instead, just for a second. He was doing this for her, and for Robert. He took a deep breath, struggling to keep his voice steady.
Laura watched him as he spoke. There was no trace of that roguish glint in his eye. The pain in his voice made him seem older. She felt herself wanting to hold him, ease away his grief.
The memorial service ended. Mac and Robin stood at the front of the church, dutifully accepting everyone's sympathy.
Laura and Amy stood up.
"I have to get going," Laura told her sister.
"Okay," Amy said quietly. "We'll just go give our condolences to Mac and Robin and we can go."
"No!" Laura said a little too quickly. At her sister's questioning look, she amended, "I don't know them, I wouldn't know what to say. You go ahead, I'll wait for you here."
Amy's look didn't change. "What's the matter with you? You look like you've seen a g--" She cringed at her own words.
"I'm... tired," Laura sighed. And she was. It was the kind of weariness that came from deep inside.
"Okay," Amy replied. "I'll be right back." She took a couple steps, then turned back to her sister, who seemed to be lost in thought. "Laura?"
Laura looked up. "Yeah?"
Amy's eyes were bright with tears. "I'm really glad you're here."
"Me, too," Laura whispered.
~*~
Mac heard the phone ring, and ring. and ring. It could be anyone, and he felt like talking to no one. He didn't want any more sympathy, to have to force out a thank you to make the other person feel better. The ringing stopped and he remembered he wasn't the only one in the house. It had been hours since he and Robin had returned from the memorial service. They had said nothing in the car, and the silence had continued once they'd gotten. home?
He walked out of his bedroom in silent steps. The house was quiet; he wasn't even sure that she was still here. *Great job so far, you idiot.* But as he made it to the living room, he saw her.
She was sitting in a chair, staring out the window. Her chin rested on her knees, her arms wrapped around her legs. He stood there watching her, once again wondering how he would ever be able to do this.
"You hungry?" he asked. "I don't have much, but I can order a pizza or anything else you want."
Robin shook her head.
Mac hesitated. He didn't know what to say. He felt he should Ido/I something, but he didn't know what. "If you change your mind. just let me know," he finally said.
Robin didn't answer. He stood there a few more seconds, then turned. He'd only taken a few steps when Robin's voice stopped him.
"Uncle Mac?"
Mac turned around. Robin had not moved. He waited for her to speak.
"Do you ever feel." Her voice trailed off.
Mac walked towards her, stopping a couple of feet away from her.
"Do you ever feel that you shouldn't love people?"
"Robin."
"I don't mean that it's my fault that... they died. I just." She finally turned to look at him. "I just wonder if it's worth it."
Mac stood staring at her. What could he tell her? That he wondered the same thing? No, he couldn't do that. But he also couldn't talk to her like she'd never lost anyone before. "I. don't have the answer to that, Robin."
Robin looked as though she was about to say something, but didn't. Mac could see her retreating into her own thoughts. "You've handled this better than most people would have," he said, suddenly feeling he needed to keep talking to her.
Robin shrugged, and that simple gesture cut deep into Mac. She shouldn't be so used to losing the people she loved. "Robin, I know can't make this right for you." He paused. "But you and me, we can take care of each other."
A small smile flickered on her face. She nodded. "Yeah. I can cook a little," she offered.
"That's great, because I can cook none."
This time her smile lasted a big longer. She moved from her place and without a word hugged her uncle.
Mac held her close, for the first time that day feeling that things could be right again. "It's worth it, Robin," he told her. "It's worth it."
Laura froze. Why hadn't she realized it before? The resemblance was there; really, it was almost impossible to miss.
Her fear that he would see her faded as she realized that he was looking right through everyone. The only time there was a spark of recognition in his eyes was when his gaze settled on Robert's daughter. Laura relaxed, and a fresh wave of tears fell as she felt his palpable grief hit her with unexpected force. She unconsciously squeezed Amy's hand.
Mac gave his niece a small smile. He felt his chest tighten as she tried to return it, her face crumpling instead, just for a second. He was doing this for her, and for Robert. He took a deep breath, struggling to keep his voice steady.
Laura watched him as he spoke. There was no trace of that roguish glint in his eye. The pain in his voice made him seem older. She felt herself wanting to hold him, ease away his grief.
The memorial service ended. Mac and Robin stood at the front of the church, dutifully accepting everyone's sympathy.
Laura and Amy stood up.
"I have to get going," Laura told her sister.
"Okay," Amy said quietly. "We'll just go give our condolences to Mac and Robin and we can go."
"No!" Laura said a little too quickly. At her sister's questioning look, she amended, "I don't know them, I wouldn't know what to say. You go ahead, I'll wait for you here."
Amy's look didn't change. "What's the matter with you? You look like you've seen a g--" She cringed at her own words.
"I'm... tired," Laura sighed. And she was. It was the kind of weariness that came from deep inside.
"Okay," Amy replied. "I'll be right back." She took a couple steps, then turned back to her sister, who seemed to be lost in thought. "Laura?"
Laura looked up. "Yeah?"
Amy's eyes were bright with tears. "I'm really glad you're here."
"Me, too," Laura whispered.
~*~
Mac heard the phone ring, and ring. and ring. It could be anyone, and he felt like talking to no one. He didn't want any more sympathy, to have to force out a thank you to make the other person feel better. The ringing stopped and he remembered he wasn't the only one in the house. It had been hours since he and Robin had returned from the memorial service. They had said nothing in the car, and the silence had continued once they'd gotten. home?
He walked out of his bedroom in silent steps. The house was quiet; he wasn't even sure that she was still here. *Great job so far, you idiot.* But as he made it to the living room, he saw her.
She was sitting in a chair, staring out the window. Her chin rested on her knees, her arms wrapped around her legs. He stood there watching her, once again wondering how he would ever be able to do this.
"You hungry?" he asked. "I don't have much, but I can order a pizza or anything else you want."
Robin shook her head.
Mac hesitated. He didn't know what to say. He felt he should Ido/I something, but he didn't know what. "If you change your mind. just let me know," he finally said.
Robin didn't answer. He stood there a few more seconds, then turned. He'd only taken a few steps when Robin's voice stopped him.
"Uncle Mac?"
Mac turned around. Robin had not moved. He waited for her to speak.
"Do you ever feel." Her voice trailed off.
Mac walked towards her, stopping a couple of feet away from her.
"Do you ever feel that you shouldn't love people?"
"Robin."
"I don't mean that it's my fault that... they died. I just." She finally turned to look at him. "I just wonder if it's worth it."
Mac stood staring at her. What could he tell her? That he wondered the same thing? No, he couldn't do that. But he also couldn't talk to her like she'd never lost anyone before. "I. don't have the answer to that, Robin."
Robin looked as though she was about to say something, but didn't. Mac could see her retreating into her own thoughts. "You've handled this better than most people would have," he said, suddenly feeling he needed to keep talking to her.
Robin shrugged, and that simple gesture cut deep into Mac. She shouldn't be so used to losing the people she loved. "Robin, I know can't make this right for you." He paused. "But you and me, we can take care of each other."
A small smile flickered on her face. She nodded. "Yeah. I can cook a little," she offered.
"That's great, because I can cook none."
This time her smile lasted a big longer. She moved from her place and without a word hugged her uncle.
Mac held her close, for the first time that day feeling that things could be right again. "It's worth it, Robin," he told her. "It's worth it."