So, it's been a long time, a REALLY long time since I updated this. Sorry about that. It was unintentional. I misplaced my notebook with all the notes and drafts last year and found it a few days ago mixed in with my Christmas decorations. No, I don't know how it got in there either. This is a shorter chapter than usual for me and is mostly Shawn helping Angela process and deal with her (still fresh and raw) grief.

There will be one more chapter after this. I'm toying with the idea of a sequel, but only have an outline at this point. So we'll see. I never rule anything out for good. Thanks for your patience and I'm sorry to have kept you waiting for so long. :-)

"He had the most bizarre taste in music!" Angela smiled as she went through the photo album. "He loved heavy metal and country."

"That's not so weird." Once he'd gotten her calmed down they went back to the couch to sit. She hadn't said anything and he wasn't sure whatever words he could come up with would offer her any comfort. Eventually she went back to her pictures. Shawn didn't want to sit here and be a part of her trip down memory lane, but it felt wrong to leave her alone with her grief. In spite of himself, he glanced at the pictures. One in particular caught his eye. "Nice hat."

"That was one of our first dates. I had never been into country. You know that. It just wasn't on my radar. So I may have gone a little overboard when Grant took me to a concert. I wanted to prove I had an open mind. Instead I looked like a walking stereotype: cowboy hat, boots, and a lot of denim."

"What was his reaction?"

"He laughed, called me cute, and said I didn't need to change for him. I wasn't trying to change. I just wanted to fit the theme of the evening. But it's okay. He made the same mistake a couple weeks later when I took him to a symphony performance and he insisted on wearing a suit."

"Don't most people dress up for the symphony?"

"It was a free concert in the park. It was also the middle of summer and about 85 degrees outside. I thought he was going to give himself heatstroke. I ran around to various vendors buying ice to cool him off." She ran a finger over her husband's face. It was still unfathomable to her that she'd never look into his eyes again…never see his smile light up a room or hear his infectious laugh. "Do you want to know what his favorite genre of music is….was?"

No. "Sure."

"TV theme songs." She laughed at the look on Shawn's face. "Grant loved TV theme songs more than anyone ever should. He wanted us to dance to the Growing Pains theme as our first dance at our wedding. I put my foot down there. I was cool with TV themes all throughout the reception, but it wasn't going to be our first dance."

"What did you dance to?" The question was out of his mouth before he could think about it. He didn't really want to know.

"Stevie Wonder's For Once in my Life. It just…it was so us."

"Oh. Okay."

She realized that he seemed relieved. "Why?"

"I was hoping it wasn't our song."

"We never had a song- unless you count Vivaldi's Four Seasons."

"I'll always count Vivaldi's Four Seasons, especially Spring."

"Me, too."

It was a relief to hear she shared his opinion." Maybe we didn't officially have a song, but there's one that made me think of us, from the moment we got serious it seemed to fit. I guess to me it was ours'."

"What was it?"

"Ironically, something country," he said. It had been so long since he'd wanted to listen to it that the details were hazy. "The woman had a really pretty voice and it was about this couple who didn't have to talk to communicate what they were feeling."

"Allison Krauss, When You Say Nothing at All?" She'd become well-versed in country music over the years.

He snapped his fingers. "That's it. Maybe it's dumb, but it just seemed to fit us."

"No, it's pretty. I've always liked it. Though, it probably would've helped us in the long run if we'd done a little more talking. We both would've been better off."

"Probably." Shawn hated that heaviness that filled the air whenever they weren't speaking. Had that part of them completely evaporated? Was it now impossible for them to 'say nothing at all'? "So Grant loved TV theme songs, huh?"

"He blamed the downfall of modern television on the fact that theme songs disappeared."

"I kind of agree with him. Theme songs are fun and burn into your brain in a way a normal song doesn't. Who doesn't sing along with the Fresh Prince or Friends songs?"

"You never watched Friends. It was too popular for you."

"Katy and Maya love it and roped me into binge watching the whole thing with them. There were back to back to back snowstorms and we were trapped in the apartment for about a week. We couldn't go anywhere and had nothing else to do." He shrugged. "I gave it a shot because they loved it so much. It didn't suck." He chuckled when one moment in particular came back to him. "Of course I was banished from the couch and had to sit in a crappy folding chair when I said they were on a break, so…." He trailed off when Angela turned the page. Something didn't make sense. "What's that?"

She looked where he was pointing. "It's my dad and Grant at a football game."

"And that?"

"They're taking turns manning the grill at a barbecue."

"I thought they never met."

"What gave you that idea?"

"When you showed up in New York you said your dad had been dead for six years and you had been married for almost four years."

"Yeah, so?"

"I just thought….I mean, I assumed that your dad died and then you-"

"And then I turned around and latched onto the first guy in a military uniform that I came across? Is that it?"

The idea always lurked in the back of his mind- that she'd been so distraught by her father's sudden death she sought another man in uniform to replace him. It helped Shawn cope with her being married and forever out of his reach. "Would it have been the worst thing in the world if you'd married someone because he reminded you of your dad? Your dad was a good guy."

"It implies I didn't love Grant for who he was. And I did with all my heart. Yes, he had some things in common with my dad, but they were very different men." Angela plucked another album from the coffee table and flipped through it until she found the page she was looking for. "Here."

Sgt. Moore was standing with his arm around Angela's step-mother. He was in his dress uniform and the couple was all smiles. "It's a great picture of your dad, but why are you showing this to me?"

"No…here." She pointed to the background. "See?"

There, behind her step-mother's shoulder, was Angela. She looked beautiful in her gold dress and had a smile on her face. Her hand was extended to accept a handshake and, even though he could only see the man's profile, Shawn could tell that she was about to greet Grant.

"Dad was one of the distinguished guests at the military ball the year he retired and was able to get an extra ticket so I could attend. I ran into a girl I grew up with off and on over the years. She had enlisted at eighteen and was married to an army man as well, but he was on active duty at the time. She didn't want to attend the ball alone and her husband's cousin was in town and had his dress blues with him, so he accompanied her."

"Grant," Shawn guessed.

She nodded and stared at the image. "How many people are lucky enough to have the moment their life changed forever captured on film?"

"I'd guess not many."

"I didn't know we had a picture of our meeting until Nancy spotted it. We were looking for pictures of dad to display at my wedding and she realized what was going on in the background." She pushed the album away and leaned back against the couch. "I tried to break up with him, you know?"

"What?"

"After my dad died I…I was so lost. I got isolated in my own little world and wanted nothing to do with anyone. I figured what was the point of letting people into your life if they were either going to ditch you or die? Grant was great though. He was patient, probably more patient that I deserved. He'd call to check on me and said he was around to talk whenever, even if it was just as a friend."

"That-that's nice."

"Were you mad at him?"

"Who?"

"When Chet died, did it make you mad? As dumb as it sounds I was angry at my dad for a long time after he died. It felt like he abandoned me just like my mom."

Sometimes Shawn forgot just how much they had in common. There were many times he'd tried to convince himself that Chet was still out there, driving back and forth across the country searching for whatever it was that was missing in his life. "I know what you mean."

"She's still alive, you know," she continued.

"Your mom?"

"She showed up at dad's funeral to 'pay her respects' and let me know she was there if I needed her. All I could think was, 'bitch, where the hell were you when I was growing up and needed a mom?'"

"What happened?"

"Nothing. My step-brothers walked her to her car and made her leave." She stared at a picture of her father and husband and tried to exercise the thought that entered her mind. "I generally try not to wish bad on people, but every once in a while I can't help but think, why my dad? Why Grant? Why are two good men dead while someone like her…I mean…"

"Why does she get to live," he said, finishing the thought for her.

"I know, I'm terrible for even thinking it, but she's a junkie who caused so much hurt and pain. Not just for me, other people, too. Why does she get to wake up tomorrow? What makes her so special that she deserves a million and one chances to screw up her life?"

"Your mom's an addict?"

"Drugs, pills, alcohol- you name it and she takes it. It's what broke up our family. Dad wanted her to get help and get sober and she wouldn't…couldn't…whatever."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"It's not something to brag about."

"I still wish you would've said something."

"I used to believe in karma. What goes around comes around. You get back what you put out into the world, you know? But I'm not so sure anymore. Karma, fate, destiny…it's all crap. I certainly haven't seen any evidence lately that we get what we deserve and that good still exists."

"How about your kids? If Jude and Zora aren't proof that good is still out there than I don't know what is."

Angela twisted her engagement and wedding rings around her finger. It had become a habit over the years. Whenever she felt like the world was spinning out of control there was something very calming, very centering about the bands of gold that adorned her hand. Eventually her gaze fell to the album that lay open on her lap. A photo from last Christmas caught her eye. They'd gone home to see Grant's family in Michigan and he took Jude sledding for the first time. They wore identical grins as they flew down the hill. "I robbed him."

"What do you mean?"

"Grant wanted kids for a few years. I wasn't ready. I didn't know if I wanted them. I was afraid that I would…well, you know," she said, remembering their conversation a few years ago in the café. "I robbed him of more years of fatherhood. I robbed my kids of time with their amazing dad."

"You didn't do anything wrong. Wrong would've been having kids before you were both ready."

"I don't know."

"I can tell you one thing, though, the man in these pictures," he paused and pointed to a shot of Grant pushing both kids on swings, "that's not the face of a man who was robbed of anything. That's the face of a guy who had everything he's ever wanted. If it's any consolation, Grant got to live the rest of his life being loved by you. Take it from someone who knows. There's no greater gift than that. That's the brass ring."

"But what am I supposed to do now?" Angela looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "We'd planned the rest of our lives together. We were just a few months away from forever." She could tell he was confused. "Grant was retiring. He knew how rough it was for me growing up with my dad not around a lot and he promised things would be different. He wanted to be here every day, be a real hands-on father and husband. After November he would've been home for good."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm trying to be positive and focus on the kids, but I keep thinking about all the moments that won't happen. I mean, I have three tricycles in my garage."

He frowned. "Is that code for something?"

"Grant was upset that he was going to miss Jude's third birthday so we'd already decided what his present would be- a tricycle."

"Sounds like a fitting gift for a three year old."

"It's strange how your brain processes things in grief, but one of the first things that popped into my head after I found out Grant died was getting that tricycle. It didn't matter that Jude's birthday was still a few months off at that point or that I suddenly had a million people to call and a bunch of arrangements to make. I wanted to get that tricycle. No, I needed to. I had a neighbor watch the kids and I went to the store. I was halfway home before thinking that maybe the three year old gift for all the kids should be a tricycle. I pulled a crazy u-turn and headed back to the store for two more."

"Umm, Angela?"

"What?"

"You only have two kids. Why do you need three trikes?" She averted her eyes and Shawn followed her hand as it fell to rest on her stomach. She was already showing a little. It was well hidden in the baggy shirt she wore earlier, but he still couldn't believe he missed it. So many things made sense now. This explained why she hardly touched food during the day and why she'd randomly leave the room during conversations. She probably had to go throw up. "Oh."

"I've only told a couple people so far. Please don't say anything when you get back home."

"I won't. I promise."

"Thanks."

"Did Grant know?"

She nodded. "We found out two weeks before he shipped out." It was a bit of a surprise for them. They'd wanted one more, but planned to wait until after Grant was home for good to start trying. Like she's learned many times over the years, sometimes life has other plans.

"I don't know if I should say congratulations or I'm sorry."

"I'll take the congratulations. I'm not unhappy about it. We wanted another baby." At least in the future, when Jude and Zora asked questions about their dad she'll be able to show them pictures and tell stories about everything he did with them. What would she have to tell this new baby? "It's just…it's bittersweet." She leaned her head against the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling. "I'm so scared."

"Of what?"

"I'm raising my children alone. I don't-I'm-I'm afraid. I like to think that I'm a strong and independent person, but-"

"-you are. You're one of the strongest people I've ever known." Shawn took a chance and reached for her hand. "If anyone can do this it's you."

"I hope so."

"I know so."

She gave him a tiny smile. It was all she could muster at the moment. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

Angela gestured to the photo albums that surrounded them. "I'm sure listening to me go on and on about Grant was one of the last things you wanted to do. And don't deny it," she added when he tried to protest.

"Fine, maybe that's true. It hurts to see all these memories of the happy life you've managed to have without me. I can't help but wonder what if."

"Oh."

"But as miserable as I am, I hate to see you in so much pain and I am sorry this happened to you and your children. You deserve better."

"Thank you."

"And if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm…you know…I'd like to think we're still friends who can talk about anything."

"It's how we started."

"Right."

She sighed and looked at the clock. This was about the time Jude woke up to climb into bed with her. The rare times she hasn't been there he's panicked and cried. "We should probably get some sleep. The kids will be awake in a few hours."

"Really?"

"There are days where I'm lucky if I get to sleep beyond sunrise."

"God, that sucks. Sometimes that's when I go to bed."

"Why do you think parents love naptime so much," she questioned with a chuckle. Angela closed the albums and arranged them on the coffee table. "Thanks again for listening."

"You're welcome. Are you okay?"

"Yeah…well, no…I mean…I will be. Eventually. I hope."

He supposed that was the most honest answer she could give. "You will. You're strong." They both jumped when Shawn's phone chimed. "What the hell?"

"Who's texting you at this hour?"

He took his phone out of his pocket and read. "My boss," he said with a sigh.

"Something wrong?"

"If I have time before I fly home there's someplace she wants me to check out. Where the hell is Long Beach anyway?"

"It's about two hours north of here. At least that's if there's no traffic. And there's always traffic. Why?"

"My boss wants to open a main office for the website out here and wants me to head it up."

"Really? That's great."

"I'm glad she trusts me so much, but I'm not sure. I don't know if California is my style."

"The sunshine grows on you after a while."

"I'm still thinking about it." He was confused when Angela began to laugh. "What?"

"It just hit me: Shawn Hunter, middle management."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh man."

"I bet somewhere your leather jacket has the sudden urge to fling itself out a window."

It was good to hear her laugh again. "Shut up."