Don't own them, city of NY is probably glad for that because they'd never get to work if I did.
--
"Hey Sheldon, can I ask you a question?" Lindsay asked. She was somewhat frazzled and unsure of how to progress.
"Sure, what's up?" he asked, getting his sandwich from the break room fridge. Lindsay took a quick look around again to make sure no one was listening. Sensing her unease, Sheldon asked, "Want to take a walk?"
"Nah, it's OK, thanks though," she said. "Just wondering if you've noticed anything different with Mac?"
"Different in what sense?"
"I don't know," Lindsay said, shrugging. "He's just seemed on edge. On edge even for Mac and...short. Very short. I wasn't sure if I did something or...That seems like the kind of thing he'd address so..." Lindsay trailed off. This had been bothering her for a few days now and it felt good to talk to someone about it.
Sheldon nodded. "I have noticed that but honestly, kind of expected it."
Lindsay looked up, puzzled. "Expected it?" To her this seemed completely odd behaviour for Mac.
"You know Mac was married, don't you?" Sheldon asked.
"No," Lindsay said. "I didn't. I...Guess I never thought about it," she admitted. She'd wondered when she first arrived, wondered about all of her new coworkers, but hadn't thought about it recently.
"And he doesn't talk about her. Claire died in the Towers."
"Oh my god," Lindsay said. "I never knew."
"And I forgot that you hadn't quite been here a year yet," Sheldon said. "The next week or so might be a little rough but it will pass."
Lindsay nodded. "Is there anything we can do?"
Sheldon shook his head, "Leave it to Stella."
"OK," Lindsay said. "Thanks."
"No problem."
--
Six days later
--
Stella approached slowly, she'd spotted Mac at the fence as soon as she got out of the cab but wanted to give him time to notice her first. "Hey," she said when he turned to face her.
Mac offered a small smile. "You need me?" he checked his phone, though he knew it hadn't rung.
"Nope," Stella said, resting a hand on his back. "Brought you something to eat though," she said, holding up the brown bag in her other hand.
"Thanks," Mac said. "Stay for a few?" he asked a few minutes later.
"Sure." She'd finished what she needed to do so that she could get down there. It wasn't that he needed her there, but she wanted to be there for him. She stood there for a few minutes surveying the scene, thinking about how it changed from year to year. She took her cue though when he turned back to the fence and leaned closer. "Take your time," she said with a quick rub of his back before stepping back.
It was definitely quieter and she'd heard on the radio on the way down that the crowds at the memorial service had been smaller than in previous years. She wondered why that was, whether it was really becoming less of an event. In the months following the attacks people had said it would one day fade the way Pearl Harbor had and she'd been unable to believe that at the time, but now she thought she might be seeing it happen. She was happy to see families with small children there. It was important that they learn what happened.
Stella offered Mac a smile when he turned and walked back to her. "Holding up OK?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said, nodding. "I didn't plan on staying all day but..."
"It felt right?" Stella offered. At Mac's nod she said, "Then I'm glad you stayed. Quiet day anyway, you missed nothing."
"Why don't days like that happen when I'm there?" Mac asked with a smile. He stood for a few moments just surveying the crowd. It was much smaller and he wondered if he'd see the day when only a few hundred people turned up. It seemed an impossibility initially, but now he wasn't so sure. It angered him to some extent; he wanted people to remember so that it didn't happen again. "Did you drive?" he asked Stella.
"Nope, caught a cab. Figured let someone else fight the traffic."
Mac nodded. "Feel like going for a drive?"
"Sure."
As Stella opened the door she noticed a small box on the front seat. "Hang on to that?" Mac asked.
"Sure," Stella said, fastening her seatbelt and then holding the box. "Got somewhere in mind?"
Mac shrugged. "Not sure."
"OK," Stella said. "Got no plans so we can head for Florida if you've fueled up," she added with a smile.
It had the desired results of getting a small smile from Mac. "Maybe just Virginia."
"That works," Stella said, rolling down the window to let the breeze in. It was cool for early September and she was enjoying it. She leaned her head back against the seat and smiled as Mac fussed with the radio. "You drive, I'll DJ."
"No news," Mac requested.
"Definitely not," Stella agreed. She settled on 100.7, which was currently playing Tiny Dancer, but could easily go next into a new release. "This work?"
"Yep." They sat in relative silence as Mac headed northeast, up the FDR to the Triborough and into Queens. "Too nice to take the Tunnel," he said by way of explanation.
Stella nodded. "Sheldon and I were working a scene this morning, jogger in Riverside Park that turned out to be a heart attack. Definitely didn't want to go back to the lab."
"I can imagine." He stayed quiet for a moment before adding quietly, "Can't even blame the weather for keeping crowds down this morning."
Stella wasn't sure how to respond, so she just offered what she hoped was a reassuring look. She realized that as much as she questioned the decrease in numbers, she hadn't gone herself. She rarely did though, only attending once with Mac. "I'll find something new," she said as the radio station went into the hourly news bulletin.
"Just turn it off," he said, glancing behind him before changing lanes to exit.
"OK." It seemed that he had a destination in mind but Stella wasn't sure where they were headed. Not exactly. She didn't know how much time Mac spent on the Island.
About fifteen minutes later, Mac pulled into a parking spot steps from a small beach and reached for the box. "Thanks," he said.
"No problem," Stella said, stepping out. Hesitating, she slipped out of her shoes and left them on the floor of the truck before following Mac up the steps over the dunes. The beach was mostly deserted even just one week after Labor Day. Mac was walking quite quickly west down the beach and Stella stayed a few steps behind, though she could easily match his pace. She sensed this was something he needed to do somewhat on his own. So she took her time, pausing occasionally to pick up a shell or just watch the waves.
A few minutes later Mac paused and turned back to Stella, "Sorry," he said.
"You're fine," she said, catching up. The sun was still a fair bit above the horizon but it looked like it was going to be a nice sunset. She watched him quietly as he lifted the lid off the box. There was a small, mostly inflated beach ball in the box but Mac didn't take it out. Instead he sat down on the sand with his knees bent and feet on the sand, the box between his knees. Stella sat beside him and just watched, unsure of what the ball was about or what her role was.
"It's the only part of her I kept," Mac said quietly a few minutes later, his voice only barely audible over the seagulls and the waves.
Stella nodded, finally understanding. She reached over and covered Mac's hand with one of her own. "You got away that Labor Day weekend?" she asked, unable to remember the previous weekend, let alone one five years ago.
"Just here. For the day," Mac said, looking down at the ball and remembering. "Can't believe it's been five years," he added, shaking his head.
Stella squeezed his hand lightly, not wanting to interrupt but reminding him she was there to listen. She couldn't believe it either, she still remembered the day like it was yesterday. Remembered waiting for news. Wondering when or if their lives would ever go back to normal or whether normal had ceased to exist along with the Towers that day.
Mac took the ball out of the box and ran his hands over it before looking up at the sky. He fingered the valve but couldn't bring himself to open it. He set it back in the box and stood, extending one hand to help Stella up.
"Thanks," she said, resting a hand on his lower back as they walked, still heading west towards the sun that was dipping closer to the horizon, though it was partially hidden by a cloud. She enjoyed the feeling of the cool damp sand beneath her feet as she walked beside Mac.
Mac looked up and watched the sun. He and Claire had been on the beach at sunset that day, just relaxing. They spent most of the afternoon in and out of the water, reading and just talking. It had been a nice day. Claire had gone to the store to get some cold drinks and she'd come back with the beach ball as well. They'd tossed the ball back and forth and nearly lost it a few times to the tide. For whatever reason, they hadn't deflated the ball when they went back to the car and the following Tuesday he was glad he hadn't. He'd thrown away everything else that reminded him of Claire, but he hung on to the ball. He didn't remember a sunset on September 11, 2001. He didn't remember much about that day at all. That day or the days and weeks that followed, though he knew Stella could tell him if he asked. He wasn't sure how much he wanted to know.
When the sun dropped below the cloud and was fully visible again, Mac stopped. He knew it was now or never. He removed the ball from the box and set the box back down on the sand. He took a few steps forward into the water, ignoring his shoes, socks and pants, which were soon soaked. He slowly brought the ball to his mouth and kissed it lightly as he opened the valve. "I love you Claire," he whispered, tossing the ball gently out to sea before he could change his mind. He watched it go as it rode along the tops of the waves, carried slightly east by the tide. As he watched it go, he looked back over his shoulder and spotted Stella, still on the shore.
Stella hadn't been sure whether to follow him in or stay on the shore. He'd invited her to come, but again she sensed this was something he needed to do alone. Tears had formed in her eyes as she'd watched him say goodbye and now when he extended his arm, she walked out to join him. He slipped an arm around her waist as they both watched the ball until it disappeared from sight.
Mac blinked back a few tears of his own as he whispered, "Bye Claire."
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