Where the Heart Lies

Chapter Five All My Grief to Bear

Abbie had finally been released from the hospital, and Willard insisted on taking her out to lunch to celebrate her recovery. She agreed, and Willard beamed, starting the car and heading into town. Abbie became a bit suspicious when they drove out towards the park.

"Where are we going, Willard?"

He smiled secretly at her. "It's a surprise, but I promise, you'll like it."

Abbie raised her eyes at him, a bit skeptical, but settled back and enjoyed the scenery.

Willard pulled into the park, noting with satisfaction that it was practically empty-just a few old men feeding the ducks on the pond. He grinned, looking over at Abbie. "We're here."

"Where?"

Willard laughed. "I said I'd take you out to lunch, didn't I? Hang on; I need to get something out of the trunk."

Abbie stood against the car door, grinning as Willard opened the trunk and pulled out a large blue cooler and a blanket. "We're having a picnic."

Willard nodded. "Yep. Come on, I know a great spot." He looped his arm around her waist and led her towards a large oak tree that stood by the pond, spreading the blanket down under the shade. "Sit and I'll serve you."

Abbie sat, her back against the rough bark of the tree, and Willard sat next to her, opening the cooler and examining the contents. "Let's see-we've got a roast beef and Swiss with mayo on rye, or a turkey and Monterey Jack with mayo on wheat. Which would you like?"

"Roast beef, please."

Willard handed her the wrapped sandwich. "Roast beef it is! And you have your choice of Coke or Sprite to drink."

Abbie grinned. "Coke, please." Willard grinned back, handing her a cold can of coke.

"Yes Ma'am. Here you are. Enjoy."

They ate in silence, watching as the ducks floated about on the pond, quacking. Abbie scooted closer to Willard, and he draped his arm over her shoulder, sighing happily. Abbie smiled up at him. "Willard?"

"Yeah?"

She reached up and brushed his lips with her fingers. "You've got crumbs." She started to remove her hand, but he clasped it in his own and gently kissed her fingertips, speaking in a low tone.

"Well, thank you for getting rid of them for me." He turned her hand over, softly kissing each knuckle, and Abbie moaned quietly.

Willard kissed her palm, then the inside of her wrist, flicking his tongue across her pulse point, and Abbie moaned again.

"Willard…"

The sound of her voice galvanized him, and he leaned his head down, pressing his lips to hers, his hands cupping her face as he kissed her slowly and deeply. "Abbie…I love you…"

"I love you, Willard…I love you…"

Willard's heart nearly flew out of his chest at her words. If he had been a rooster, he would have been crowing. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap, never breaking their kiss, and Abbie leaned forward, pressing herself against him. He groaned quietly, then slowly and hesitantly began to inch his hand up towards her breasts, giving her a questioning look. "Abbie, may I?"

"Please, Willard," she groaned, and he placed his hand on her right breast, gently stroking and squeezing her nipple through the fabric of her blouse, groaning in desire.

"God Abbie..."

Abbie moaned in ecstasy as his hands roamed over her breasts, stroking and squeezing gently. "Willard….we….can't…here…"

He looked up at her, a slightly contrite expression on his face. "I know. But you make it very hard for me, you know." He bent forward and kissed her throat, speaking in a low growl. "You're so beautiful…so desirable...I want you…"

"I know, baby…I want you too…but….we're kind of….exposed."

Willard sighed against her throat. "You're right. We should move to the other side of the tree. Then we'd be hidden."

Abbie chuckled. "Well, that's not exactly what I meant, but I like the idea."

Willard smirked evilly at her, and was preparing to lead her over to the far side of the tree when her phone went off, startling them both. Abbie groaned in exasperation.

"Damn, I thought I turned it off." She fumbled in her pocket, pressing the phone to her ear. "Hello?" Her face grew dark with anger at the answering reply.

"Miss Carsons, you did not show up for work yesterday or today. You are officially delinquent in your duties, and if you should continue with this pattern, we will have no choice but to terminate your position."

"I didn't come to work because I was in the hospital, for God's sake! I got hit by a car. One that was driven by Steiner Junior, by the way-my friend got the license tag and his address. He's lucky that I'm not pressing charges against him!"

"You did not inform Personnel that you would be out of work for two days, and I'm afraid I have no choice but to dock you two days' pay."

"You have got to be fucking kidding me. So, let me get this straight. I tell you that my *boss* tried to run me over, and you skip right past all that and tell me I'm out two days' pay because I neglected to tell the Personnel Department that I was going to be in the hospital? ! You are unbelievable!" She stabbed the off button, fuming. "That bitch! I don't believe this. I really, really don't believe this. I'm out two days' pay. I can't afford that! Shit, shit, shit!"

Willard wrapped his arms around her, gently stroking her back as she cried. "I'm sorry, Abbie."

"You don't need to apologize. I'm the one that killed the mood. Stupid phone."

Willard chuckled. "Hey, up until then the picnic was going quite splendidly. But if you want, I'll take you home." Abbie looked at him, and then swiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I…yeah. Yeah, I need to go home. You…You're not angry with me, are you?"

"Never. We can always try again some other day. Come on, I'll get you home."

They gathered up the empty wrappers and coke cans, tossing them in the trash, and then Willard drove Abbie back to her apartment.

"Willard, I am sorry. Maybe I can make it up to you? I'll break into my piggy bank and buy you a cup of coffee and a donut."

Willard laughed quietly, and then kissed her. "That sounds heavenly, Abbie, but unfortunately I've got to go home and check on Mother. I'll stop by later tonight, okay?"

"Okay. I'll see you later. I love you."

"I love you too, babe. Bye."

He drove back home, smiling, and walked into the house. Immediately, he knew something was wrong. His mother usually started yelling for him the minute he walked in the door, and this time she hadn't. Feeling nervous and more than a little scared, he started to make his way up the stairs when he heard a loud crash coming from the kitchen, and his eyes widened in anger.

"BEN!"

He ran into the kitchen, gasping at the sight. Rats were everywhere-on the counter, in the cupboards, swarming over the floor, table, and each other. Ben sat atop a cupboard, his beady black eyes bright as he watched. Willard came forward, stepping amongst the rats, and suddenly his eyes were riveted to the stairs leading down into the cellar, and the broken body of his mother lying prone on the steps, one bare foot still on the top landing. Rats were swarming over her, and Willard gave a cry of horror and revulsion, grabbing a broom and sweeping them off.

"Off! Off! Down! In the basement! Down!" The rats poured down, and Willard looked up at Ben, fury in his gaze.

"You think you're smart? You think you're clever? You're NOT! Socrates is smart! He knows that they'll have to come and take her away! And then they'll have to take you away! And they'll have to take me away, and I'd never see Abbie again!" He slumped against the wall, tears in his eyes. "I couldn't handle that."

"Sign here, Mr. Stiles, and we'll take her off your hands." The ambulance driver extended a pad, and Willard signed where he indicated, his eyes still red from crying. His mother's body was on the gurney, wrapped in the black body bag, and Willard couldn't help but think of Socrates' mother, lying wrapped in the basement in her own body bag.

The driver nodded. "Thank you, and I'm sorry for your loss." He went out, pushing the gurney in front of him.

Willard sat on the steps, and Socrates came up to him, climbing up his arm and perching on his shoulder. "Hey, Socrates. She was my mother. I loved her, and I miss her. I miss her." He nuzzled Socrates, crying softly, then went into the living room and dialed Abbie's number.

"Hello?"

"Abbie? It's Willard." He sniffled, and Abbie's spoke in a concerned voice.

"What's wrong, babe?"

He gulped. "My…mother…she's…ummm….she's dead."

"Oh, no! Willard, babe, I'm so sorry. Do…do you want me to come over? I could grab a bus and come down, if you want."

"Ummm….no. I….wouldn't really be good company right now. I…just wanted to hear your voice. I'll…I'll be alright now. The…ummm…the service is tomorrow at Haisley Funeral Home."

"I'll be there, I promise. Are you sure you don't need me to come over?"

"I'm sure. I promise, I'll be alright."

"Alright then. I'm really, really sorry, sweetheart. You look after yourself, hear? I'll see you tomorrow."

"I will. Abbie?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Willard."

Willard stood in the empty funeral parlor, gazing with tear filled eyes at the casket his mother was lying in. She looked peaceful, and Willard gently touched her cheek, sobbing. "Well…at least you're with Father now. You're finally back with him. I…I have a friend."

He pulled Socrates out of his pocket. "He…he wants to say goodbye. Say goodbye, Socrates." Socrates nuzzled Mrs. Stiles' cheek, and Willard wiped his eyes. "That's good, Socrates. Mom…I've also got a girlfriend. Her name's Abbie. I think you'd like her."

"Willard?"

Willard motioned for Socrates to hide, and then turned, smiling in relief at Abbie. "You came."

She stepped forward, wrapping him in a tight hug. "Of course I came. I promised I would."

Willard clung to her desperately, sobbing and shaking. "She…she's gone. My mother….she's really gone." He sank into a chair, pulling her down with him, and she stroked his back, speaking softly.

"I know, babe. I'm sorry."

"Don't go anywhere, Abbie. Don't ever go anywhere. Don't leave me alone. Please don't leave me alone."

"I won't. I will never leave you, I promise."

"Mr. Stiles?"

Willard and Abbie turned, noticing a black man in his late fifties standing nearby. "I'm Joseph Garter. I represent Montgomery Bank, the trustees of your parents' estate. I've been trying to reach you, but you didn't answer your phone. I was wondering if we could talk."

Willard nodded. "Of course. Abbie, give us a minute?"

"No problem. I'll be outside if you need me."

She kissed his cheek, and then walked outside. Mr. Garter sat down opposite Willard, speaking in a soft tone.

"Willard, I have some news you may not be aware of or prepared for. Your parents had been living on a trust fund they had originally set up for your future. Now, it was intended to be yours upon their passing. However, your father's death left debts that even Mr. Martin's buyout could not completely relieve. In fact, there remains pending litigation on some unsettled debts."

Willard stared at him, uncomprehending. "It's…it's still my house?"

Mr. Garter sighed. "Your mother refinanced the house after your father's death. In fact, we still owe…"

"We? It's MY HOUSE." Willard felt hysteria just below the surface. Mr. Garter smiled disarmingly at him, speaking calmly.

"Yes, of course. You grew up there, it's your home. But it's the bank's house."

"IT'S MY HOUSE!"

"There's no need for a single man to be living in such a large house, Willard. Sell it."

'I'm not single, you idiot.' "WHY DO I HAVE TO PAY FOR THE THINGS MY PARENTS DID?"

"The money can help you start over."

"START OVER? ! I'M ALMOST DONE!" Willard gasped for breath, in the grips of hysteria, and Mr. Garter stood, speaking in a firm tone.

"Now look, Willard, you have no choice!"

"IF I HAVE NO CHOICE, WHY DID YOU EVEN COME HERE? ! WHY DID YOU EVEN BOTHER TELLING ME? ! DO YOU GET OFF ON TELLING PEOPLE THAT THEY HAVE NO CONTROL OVER THEIR LIVES? ! THAT I HAVE NO MONEY, NO HOME, AND IT'S NOT EVEN MY FAULT!" He slumped against the wall, tears streaming down his face.

Garter glared at him. "Willard, this is not the time or the place. Here's my card. Now please, think about it, and contact me."

Willard took the card, his eyes dull. "Thank you." Garter nodded and walked out.

Willard slid down to the floor, weeping, his face buried in his hands. Abbie came forward, sitting in front of him and placed her hand on his arm. "Willard?"

He looked up at her. "Did you hear any of that?"

She sighed in sympathy. "I heard all of it. I'm so sorry, love."

He gave a short bark of laughter. "I'm such a damned loser. I have a shitty job, a shitty life, no hope for my future, and now no home or money. You must really be proud of what a wonderful catch I am."

Abbie lifted his chin, staring deep into his eyes. "I am. Willard, you are a wonderfully sweet man, and also quite handsome to boot. You are a gentleman, and you have never once treated me as anything except a lady. You're shy, but that just adds to your appeal."

"What about the rat thing? You have to admit, Abbie, that's pretty strange."

"I told you, it doesn't bother me. Come on, let's get out of here. We can go to my apartment. You can sleep there."

"Ohhh…uhhh…no…I…"

"Willard, if you refuse I'll drag you there. You shouldn't be alone. You need someone to help bear your grief."

Willard wiped his eyes and smiled at her. "Well, if you insist. Let me get Socrates."

Abbie nodded. "Of course."

Twenty minutes later, Willard pulled his car into the parking lot of Abbie's apartment. "Are you sure it's alright?"

Abbie laughed. "I told you, it's fine. Come on."

Willard exited the car, following Abbie up the stairs.

Author's Note-Sorry about the abrupt ending, but if I tried to extend it any more I'd be forcing the chapter. You'll get the rest-and a rating change-in Chapter Six. I promise.