Fenton sat up straighter behind the wheel of the Ford Explorer as he tried to see the road ahead of him. He, Laura, Frank and Frank's wife of four years, Callie, had left the sunny city of LA for the three thousand mile trek home two days before. The four had decided to take a month off and travel but after reaching Los Angeles, a city that strongly reminded them of Joe, they had decided to return home in time for Christmas.
"I can't believe we were wearing shorts just two days ago," Callie said, shivering as her brown eyes gazed in concern at the winter wonderland they had entered once they hit the Rockies.
"We should have been listening to the radio station instead of playing Christmas tapes," Frank commented, frowning as his father slowed the car down even more. "We're miles from anywhere and this storm is only getting worse."
"We can't turn around," Fenton said. "There was ice all over that last road we were on."
"I bet the drop was at least a thousand feet or more over that cliff," Callie said, shuddering. "We almost went over."
"Want me to drive for awhile?" Frank inquired. He knew this weather had to be taking it's toll on his father by now.
"No," Fenton declined. "If we get off the road, we might not be able to get back on."
Callie closed her eyes and leaned her head over. Frank put his right arm on the back of the seat to allow her to snuggle as close as her seat belt would allow, then lowered his arm to her shoulder and kissed the top of her head, breathing in the smell of her herbal shampoo.
They rode quietly as Fenton concentrated on his driving. Laura grew weary of watching the swirling flakes assault the windshield and fell asleep, content to let her husband take care of her. In the back seat, Callie, too, had fallen asleep. Frank looked down at the woman who had been there for him during the worst part of his life.
He had thought the six months Joe had been locked up were the worst but the year following his release had been so much harder. Joe had treated him like stranger and walked away. After the initial shock had worn off, Frank had raced to catch up with him, trying his best to get Joe to talk to him. He vaguely remembered his parents shouting at him not to let Joe out of his sight.
He had followed Joe for over a mile before Joe had shown any reaction at all. Joe had stopped walking. He waited silently until Frank paused to catch his breath, then lashed out with a right cross that had sent into the weeds by the roadside. By the time Frank had shaken off the haze and gotten to his knees, he could see Joe climbing into the passenger side of an eighteen-wheeler.
Frank memorized the tag and hurried back the way he had come. It had taken only an hour to locate the truck but the driver said he had dropped Joe off only four miles down the road. A man-hunt had gone into effect with Fenton calling in every favor owed him. Joe never turned up.
When they returned to Bayport, their house was ablaze. Yellow ribbons were all over the trees and a huge yellow bow was hung above the steps to the front porch. The birthday slash welcome home party was quickly shut down and all promised to keep an eye out for Joe. Phil had invited Frank over to his house and showed him a new computer program he had been working on. It would continuously check for a social security number to hit the web. Sites with high security were vulnerable as well as regular sites.
Almost two months after Joe's release, his social security number popped up in Connecticut. Frank and Fenton had flown to the location at once but they were too late. Joe must have realized something was going on because he had quit and cleared out as soon as the manager told him his social security number and other vital information had been sent to the head office via the Net.
Frank quit helping his dad. He spent all his time searching for Joe. Every lead; every report that he had been seen, was investigated personally by Frank. He had become a man obsessed. Almost eight months after Joe's release, he finally got a real lead. Joe had been seen in an abandoned warehouse in a bad part of Cincinnati. Frank talked to the man who had furnished the lead and been given an address.
Joe was there but he hadn't wanted to come out. He had seemed almost afraid. Frank had refused to leave until Joe came out and talked to him. But as soon as he did, a car came barreling down the street and shots were fired. Frank raced towards Joe but it was too late. He lay on the ground with blood oozing. Frank held his brother as sirens wailed in the distance and grew closer. He never relinquished his hold until an officer took his arm and led him away so the paramedics could work on him.
Frank was taken to the hospital where he called his parents to tell them what had happened. By the time they arrived, the doctor had declared Joe dead. He was sealed in a coffin and flown back to Bayport.
Frank had wanted to see Joe at the funeral, one last time, but the lock on the coffin had been broken and the only way to get it open would have been to break into the coffin with an axe. So Joe was buried in the local graveyard not too far form the grave of Iola Morton.
Frank sighed and squeezed Callie tighter. After he had returned home with Joe, she had not left Frank's side. She had held him when he cried and yelled at him when he gave up. She refused to let him believe he didn't deserve to be happy. He had insisted it was all his fault. He had killed Joe but she had made him realize that Joe had made his own decisions as well. Joe may not have deserved what happened to him but by running away when he was released from prison instead of working things out, he had decided his own fate.
Frank's love for Callie had grown as had Fenton's and Laura's for they knew without her, they would have lost both sons. And now, seven years and two months after Joe had been ripped out of their lives by the vengeful Brown, they were content with their lives.
Frank still missed Joe and visited his grave often, but he had moved on as had his parents and it was on rare occasions when his absence was most noticeable. It felt like someone was squeezing his heart but Frank had learned this feeling was not an imminent heart attack, it was just the pain of a loss that would never fully go away.
Tonight was one of those times. Christmas was mere days away and the quiet coupled with the growing dusk and heavy snow only added to the nostalgic atmosphere.
Baby Brother, thought Frank. I wish you were here. Frank closed his eyes to try and block the pain but hurriedly opened them as the car hit ice and began to swerve out of control.
"I can't believe we were wearing shorts just two days ago," Callie said, shivering as her brown eyes gazed in concern at the winter wonderland they had entered once they hit the Rockies.
"We should have been listening to the radio station instead of playing Christmas tapes," Frank commented, frowning as his father slowed the car down even more. "We're miles from anywhere and this storm is only getting worse."
"We can't turn around," Fenton said. "There was ice all over that last road we were on."
"I bet the drop was at least a thousand feet or more over that cliff," Callie said, shuddering. "We almost went over."
"Want me to drive for awhile?" Frank inquired. He knew this weather had to be taking it's toll on his father by now.
"No," Fenton declined. "If we get off the road, we might not be able to get back on."
Callie closed her eyes and leaned her head over. Frank put his right arm on the back of the seat to allow her to snuggle as close as her seat belt would allow, then lowered his arm to her shoulder and kissed the top of her head, breathing in the smell of her herbal shampoo.
They rode quietly as Fenton concentrated on his driving. Laura grew weary of watching the swirling flakes assault the windshield and fell asleep, content to let her husband take care of her. In the back seat, Callie, too, had fallen asleep. Frank looked down at the woman who had been there for him during the worst part of his life.
He had thought the six months Joe had been locked up were the worst but the year following his release had been so much harder. Joe had treated him like stranger and walked away. After the initial shock had worn off, Frank had raced to catch up with him, trying his best to get Joe to talk to him. He vaguely remembered his parents shouting at him not to let Joe out of his sight.
He had followed Joe for over a mile before Joe had shown any reaction at all. Joe had stopped walking. He waited silently until Frank paused to catch his breath, then lashed out with a right cross that had sent into the weeds by the roadside. By the time Frank had shaken off the haze and gotten to his knees, he could see Joe climbing into the passenger side of an eighteen-wheeler.
Frank memorized the tag and hurried back the way he had come. It had taken only an hour to locate the truck but the driver said he had dropped Joe off only four miles down the road. A man-hunt had gone into effect with Fenton calling in every favor owed him. Joe never turned up.
When they returned to Bayport, their house was ablaze. Yellow ribbons were all over the trees and a huge yellow bow was hung above the steps to the front porch. The birthday slash welcome home party was quickly shut down and all promised to keep an eye out for Joe. Phil had invited Frank over to his house and showed him a new computer program he had been working on. It would continuously check for a social security number to hit the web. Sites with high security were vulnerable as well as regular sites.
Almost two months after Joe's release, his social security number popped up in Connecticut. Frank and Fenton had flown to the location at once but they were too late. Joe must have realized something was going on because he had quit and cleared out as soon as the manager told him his social security number and other vital information had been sent to the head office via the Net.
Frank quit helping his dad. He spent all his time searching for Joe. Every lead; every report that he had been seen, was investigated personally by Frank. He had become a man obsessed. Almost eight months after Joe's release, he finally got a real lead. Joe had been seen in an abandoned warehouse in a bad part of Cincinnati. Frank talked to the man who had furnished the lead and been given an address.
Joe was there but he hadn't wanted to come out. He had seemed almost afraid. Frank had refused to leave until Joe came out and talked to him. But as soon as he did, a car came barreling down the street and shots were fired. Frank raced towards Joe but it was too late. He lay on the ground with blood oozing. Frank held his brother as sirens wailed in the distance and grew closer. He never relinquished his hold until an officer took his arm and led him away so the paramedics could work on him.
Frank was taken to the hospital where he called his parents to tell them what had happened. By the time they arrived, the doctor had declared Joe dead. He was sealed in a coffin and flown back to Bayport.
Frank had wanted to see Joe at the funeral, one last time, but the lock on the coffin had been broken and the only way to get it open would have been to break into the coffin with an axe. So Joe was buried in the local graveyard not too far form the grave of Iola Morton.
Frank sighed and squeezed Callie tighter. After he had returned home with Joe, she had not left Frank's side. She had held him when he cried and yelled at him when he gave up. She refused to let him believe he didn't deserve to be happy. He had insisted it was all his fault. He had killed Joe but she had made him realize that Joe had made his own decisions as well. Joe may not have deserved what happened to him but by running away when he was released from prison instead of working things out, he had decided his own fate.
Frank's love for Callie had grown as had Fenton's and Laura's for they knew without her, they would have lost both sons. And now, seven years and two months after Joe had been ripped out of their lives by the vengeful Brown, they were content with their lives.
Frank still missed Joe and visited his grave often, but he had moved on as had his parents and it was on rare occasions when his absence was most noticeable. It felt like someone was squeezing his heart but Frank had learned this feeling was not an imminent heart attack, it was just the pain of a loss that would never fully go away.
Tonight was one of those times. Christmas was mere days away and the quiet coupled with the growing dusk and heavy snow only added to the nostalgic atmosphere.
Baby Brother, thought Frank. I wish you were here. Frank closed his eyes to try and block the pain but hurriedly opened them as the car hit ice and began to swerve out of control.