Okay, this is two months after the funeral, and I gotta warn ya: It gets a little upsetting. So you may need tissues... Oh, and this is NOT a songfic story. I'm just using a song sometimes to help with the mood.
This chapter is for confused, addicted, and my 20th reviewer, LivNel4ever (I want my shoe back!)
Disclaimer: They ain't mine. Neither is the Reba McEntire song He Gets That From Me. (sigh)
"Daddy?" a little voice whispered, and Bobby opened his eyes to see a pair of large brown eyes looking up at him. He looked at the alarm clock and moaned. Six thirty a.m. Yup, his little alarm clock was wide awake and probably hungry.
"Daddy," she whispered again, poking his arm.
With a small sigh, he stiffly climbed out of the bed and stumbled into the kitchen, with Jessica padding along behind him.
After helping Jessica into her booster seat, he walked into the kitchen, rifling through the cabinets for bowls and spoons. She watched every move he made, smiling happily.
"What kind of cereal do you want, Jess?" he asked, already reaching for the Frosted Flakes.
"Flakes!" she exclaimed happily, and he smiled as he poured two bowls of the sugary cereal. Picking the bowls up, he placed the smaller one in front of Jessica, then sat down and ate his own cereal.
Her early mornin' attitude
She has to drag me out of bed
Only frosted flakes will do
She gets that from me
Yeah, she gets that from me
After they finished breakfast, Bobby helped his daughter down, then got her ready for preschool. As soon as she was dressed, he pulled his jacket on and took her little hand, leading her out of the apartment.
Outside, Jessica looked around at the busy streets and tall buildings that surrounded her, and Bobby smiled slightly as she began to talk about her preschool.
"And there's this boy, and his name's David, and he has red hair!" she stated as he opened the backseat car door, lifting her into the car seat. After making sure she was securely in the seat, he shut the door and climbed into the driver's seat.
She continued to talk as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street, keeping one eye on the review mirror.
Her curly hair and her knobby knees
The way the sun brings those freckles out
Talk and talk, never miss a beat
Yeah she gets that from me
She gets that from me
Parking the SUV in front of the preschool, Bobby pulled Jessica out of her car seat and set her on the ground, and he smiled when she slipped her tiny hand into his large one.
"Come on, Daddy!" she said impatiently, tugging on his hand. He smiled again as he let her lead him into the multi colored building.
After dropping her off at the preschool, Bobby got back into the SUV and drove aimlessly until he reached Alex's grave. Turning the ignition off, he took a deep breath and grabbed the single rose off of the passenger's seat, then climbed out of the SUV. With small, timid steps, he approached her headstone, which was decorated with different colored flowers. Kneeling on the ground, he placed the rose on the headstone, then leaned his head against the cool marble.
"God, Alex. I miss you so much," he murmured, running his hand over the engraved letters. "I thought it would get easier. It's not. It gets harder every day." He took a deep breath, and tears stung his eyes.
"I've gone through two partners already. The second one, her name was Andrea. I called her Alex so many times that she quit the same day." He laughed bitterly, closing his eyes.
"And Jessica. God, she looks more and more like you every day, Alex. I wish you were here to help me. I never thought I'd be raising our baby by myself." The tears began to fall, and he didn't bother wiping them away.
"Jessica misses you so much. She's the only thing that keeps me going most of the time," he confessed. "I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to eat my gun. But that little girl keeps me going. A couple of days ago, she found your old guitar under the bed. She loves that thing so much, Alex. She's got me wrapped around her little finger. But you already knew that, didn't you?" he asked, wiping the tears away.
"I love you, Alex, and I miss you so much. I'll come back in a few days," he promised as he rose to his feet and walked away.
BABABABABABABABABABABABABABABABABABA
Mike watched as Bobby stared forlornly at the shattered Santa cup before darting out of the squad room. Sighing, he crouched down and picked up the remains of the cup, and Deakins and Carolyn kneeled down to help him.
"What are we going to do?" Deakins asked quietly, and Mike and Carolyn looked at each other sadly.
"Give him time, Cap," Mike urged. "It's only been two months. He's still hurting something awful."
"Yeah, he is," Carolyn agreed, and Deakins nodded slowly.
BABABABABABABABABABABABABABABABABABA
Later that night, Bobby and Jessica completed her nighttime rituals, then he tucked her into the bed and walked into his bedroom. With a trembling hand, he pulled his gun from its holster, then sat on the bed, resting the barrel of the gun against his temple. The cold metal almost felt soothing, a release from all the pain he had suffered over the past two months. One motion of his finger, and it would all be over.
All of his pain would be gone, and he might see Alex again. He would be free from the constant ache that had taken up residence where his heart had used to be. It was the right thing to do.
So why couldn't he pull the trigger? Why couldn't he command his finger to move and to put him out of his misery? Images of the broken Santa mug flew through his mind, and tears fell as he thought, It's shattered, just like her. I couldn't fix it, just like I couldn't fix her. Why should I still be alive?
His hand trembled, and he forced himself to look at the wall, where pictures of his family covered almost every inch of space. From the time she had been able to see the bump, Alex took pictures to record the pregnancy's developments. And she had only taken more after their daughter was born.
As he looked at his girls' smiling faces, he felt the gun slip out of his hand, and it fell to the floor. Burying his face in his hands, he rested his elbows on his knees and cried.
She looks at me with those big brown eyes
She's got me in the palm of her hands
And I swear sometimes it's just like you're here again
She smiles that little crooked smile
There's no denying she's your child
Without her I don't know what I'd do
She gets that from you
Oh, she gets that from you
How she loves your old guitar
Yeah, she's taught herself to play
She melts my heart, tells me she loves me every day
And cracks a joke at the perfect time
Makes me laugh when I want to cry
That girl is everything to me
She gets that from you
She gets that from you
Stumbling into the bathroom, he splashed water on his face, then rubbed it dry before heading to his daughter's room. As he reached her door, he could hear her speaking softly, and he listened as she prayed.
"Dear God, please help me and Daddy. We really miss Mommy." She paused for a moment. "And please bless Daddy, Uncle Mike and Aunt 'Lyn and Mikey, Grampa John and Gramma Mary, and Grampa Jimmy. Amen."
By the end of her prayer, tears were streaming down his face again, and he walked back into his bedroom, stripping down to his boxers, then pulling on a pair of old sweatpants.
Sitting down on the bed, he went to lay his head on the pillow, but a white envelope made him pause in shock. With a trembling hand, he picked up the envelope, the familiar scrawl of his name sending shivers up his spine. As he pulled the letter out of the envelope, a small black paper fluttered into his lap, and he picked it up, turning it over in his hand. A sonogram? he thought, confused. Unfolding the letter, he sucked in a breath as he read the familiar scratch.
Morning sickness sucks, it read in a feminine hand.
His eyes flew to the bottom of the page, and his heart nearly stopped at the last line.
Love, me.
"Alex?" he breathed.
Last night, I heard her pray
"Lord, help me and Daddy make it through
And tell Mama we'll be okay"
She said she sure misses you
She sure misses you
She really misses you
She gets that from me
TBC...
A/N: Hee hee... Hope you liked it! Now, go review! And 11 days till Christmas! On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me 11 wrestlin tickets, ten a copenhagen, nine years probation, eight table dancers, seven packs of redman, six cans of spam, five flannel shirts, four big mud tires, three shotgun shells, two huntin dogs, and some parts to a mustang gt!! HAHAHAHA!!