Chapter 62

John jogged down the hospital hallway, skidding near an open patient room. He glanced inside. "Billie?"

Her head was turned toward the window, her thoughts concentrated around a world without John when she heard his voice. Snapping her head toward the doorway they locked eyes, the sight of him drawing immediate tears from Billie. Her face contorted as she cried. "Oh, Johnnie..." her voice cracked and came out almost as a wail. Not a second had passed and John was already by her side, climbing into the bed with her.

"Oh, baby," he cooed, his hands going to her hair as her head fall into him, she sobbing and clinging to his shirt. John wore a plain dress shirt opened slightly at the neck. His hair looked greasy and hung over his forehead. The man hadn't showered since leaving Iowa and he smelt stale from sweat, but Billie found the potency comforting. He was alive. No longer did she have to ponder being without him. They'd survived this robbery, only barely, but they had. The massive relief she felt conflicted with her sorrow.

"Did...did they tell-"

"Yeah, baby. I know." John's fears had been confirmed the second he saw Billie's face and when she erupted in tears. She hadn't smiled; it probably hurt too much. The impact of this realization hit him like a knife in the gut- sudden and fierce. He was stroking her hair, her back, her arm, whispering soothing words. He didn't shush her; she had every right to grieve. They both did.

Her face was warm and puffy, her eyes strained and red. He imagined she'd been crying for a very long time and thinking of her there in the bed, alone and afraid, caused a painful feeling to sear through his chest. He held her tighter. She was so small and her body was trembling frantically. He'd never seen her like this. John wanted and tried to be strong for her but it was tough.

"I...I didn't know," she stuttered and sniffled. "I'm sorry...I'm s-so sorry..."

"What? Billie...no..." John readjusted and held her face, his so close their noses brushed. Surprisingly her eyes were a brilliant color when watery and irritated. He was genuinely scared to hear these thoughts, that perhaps she blamed herself. "Don't be sorry. You have no reason to be, sweetheart."

She blinked and crystalline tears dropped down her cheek, seeping through his fingers. Her eyes closed tighter, almost as if she were wincing from a terrible physical pain. Never before had John ever been so affected by another persons pain. He was hurting too, they both shared a significant kind of suffering, but Billie had her own emotions and thoughts he could never fully comprehend.

"I really wanted it," she told him, her statement almost inaudible through her crying. "I really did...I did...I did..." she almost started hyperventilating, it hard to catch a breath for a few seconds. John started to feel a catch behind his tongue, like the onset of a sore throat.

"I know, baby," he replied, and they were sharing a mutual and agonizing truth. "Me too..." he whispered, and for the second time Billie witnessed John cry.

- - -

Later, Billie's tears were still present but no longer a free flowing flood. Even when her breath was able to come in almost normally her voice remained soft. John hadn't moved at all, and if he did it was only to be closer to her. Her eyes were still glazed over and she glanced at unknown points in the room without even seeing them.

"All this time...we just thought I was getting sick..." she mused, almost without emotion had John not known the truth of the situation. "It was there all along..."

John couldn't comment but his hands still caressed her, offering whatever comfort they could. He hadn't at all thought that Billie was carrying a child, and neither had she herself. "I think back and...all those times...I had wine on my birthday, but it wasn't even a full glass..."

Her eyes started to mist over again and John felt his anxiety lurching. "No," he started, shaking his head. "Don't you blame yourself. It was nothing like that."

Really John didn't know if that were true or not, but he didn't think it was. They didn't exactly know the time of conception, but they didn't know the reasons for its termination either. Still, he was sure this couldn't be explained by any behavior on Billie's part and he told her so. She added that she was stressed- more so than she had ever really been. She had abandoned her home, her friends and family, she was in new and unfamiliar places, and she had life or death matters or worry about with John. If it was stress that led to the tragedy John felt himself more at fault then she.

"Sometimes these things happen," he said quietly, knowing it would give no real comfort. "And there's no reason why. It could have been doomed from the start, and we just didn't know any different, and there's nothing we could have done."

The words were meant to comfort but they stung. There was nothing pleasant about what had happened and there was no easy way to talk about it. When John noticed her reaction he feared he had done more damage when his intent was the opposite. Billie shook her head, wiping at tears. "No," she said and it sounded defiant, like she knew she could be in denial but was working to convince herself otherwise. "It was supposed to happen...it is...it will..."

Her words ran off weakly and John felt another pang in his heart. After a beat she turned her head, their eyes meeting. He could see the emotions in her face, the insecurities, fears, worries. He wanted nothing more than to reassure her; to give her the confidence in such statements that she yearned for.

"We'll have a family, right?" she whispered this time. "You want one with me?"

"Yeah, baby," John answered breathlessly, his hand coming to touch her face. "I want one with you. Nobody else. Just you, doll. And it will happen...it will..." He kissed her face, her hair, and Billie leaned into him wanting to be held. It was a relief to hear him say it; that he wanted it to. They stayed that way for some moments until John spoke again. When he did it was soft, filled with vulnerability. "You know, I always thought I couldn't have children..."

He'd never mentioned that to anyone and Billie arched up, aware of this apprehension merely by his tone of voice. He waited a moment, debating and forming his words. He didn't want to taint this time with the past, with other memories and instances, but there was no other way to be honest. "It'd never happened, and it didn't with my first marriage. I think that might have been one of the reasons it didn't work. I've wondered if it was me...if I could never give someone a family..."

He moved his eyes over to hers, observing her reaction to these words. He found the courage to continue in the hue of her eyes, the softness of her face and the warmth of her heart that shown through. "And then here it happened with you," he said and he smiled. "We didn't even try. It happened like it was meant to happen." He thought he saw a wisp of a smile on her face as well. "I'm glad it did. I'm so glad it did..."

His voice wore down as hers had done before. This loss was a joy and a curse to John. A family was taken away from him, but with it came the realization that he could have one. For whatever reason his dreams, the things he never thought completely possible, were very much capable with Billie. This information made her feel a little lighter. Getting that little hint of satisfaction from his words made Billie at ease enough to continue speaking.

"You know," she started and her voice shook slightly just until she got comfortable speaking smoothly again. "As I was laying here, I was thinking...and I started...I started to think of, of names..." She said this quietly, almost as if she were embarrassed to admit it. No sense of awkwardness occurred to John; instead he smiled as though he were charmed.

"And what were they, then?"

This time Billie spoke with more confidence. "Well, I was thinking, if it were a girl...Mary. If not the first name, than the middle. After your mother, and my mother, and Mary..." She meant John's niece, her (maybe former) best friend. He understood and turned his head toward her, grinning.

"Sounds beautiful. What about a boy?"

For the first time Billie smiled and it was filled with hints of amusement. She bit her lip, shaking her head. "I didn't think it would be a boy."

John laughed. When he thought of their child he imagined a boy and so it was only natural that she envisioned a girl. He told her how there was a tradition in his family- all the sons were given the middle name of their grandfather. If they continued with the name John, their son would be called John Wilson Dillinger. It gave Billie a little pleasurable chill to hear the last name that would be given to her child. Dillinger.

Billie opened her mouth to ask John if they would name their first son after himself, and if so what the next boys' name would be, but she never got to speak. She had barely uttered a single word when she was cut off, a second voice that was loud and alarming interrupting.

"Well, I should have known!" it said, the words were laced with something like disgust.

Startled, the couple turned toward the direction of the voice and were astonished and petrified to see Billie's mother, Mary Frechette.