AFTER

They told you life is hard

It's misery from the start

It's dull, it's slow, it's painful

I tell you life is sweet

In spite of the misery

There's so much more

Be grateful

"Life Is Sweet"

Natalie Merchant

May 22, 1952

Worcester, Massachusetts

Time had seemed to speed up, and then stand still, as the situation in the train station solidified around him, as if he had walked from a nightmare into the real world…still trailing vestiges of shadows as he moved into the light.

Carina, Casey, Sarah, and Molly…everyone was safe.

Casey took control of the situation, only mildly injured after his fight with Shaw, but in the best condition of anyone there, despite his age. He had a soldier's constitution, Chuck remembered Gertrude saying. Often she was teasing, but now Chuck understood the teasing was rooted in truth.

Chuck had pushed himself almost beyond his ability to endure. He was exhausted, starving, with an unrelenting, unforgiving headache.

The train station changed to the hospital, the stage props in a play, wheeled into and out of existence around by unseen stagehands. He didn't remember leaving the train station, nor did he remember their entourage arriving at the hospital. He vaguely remembered being in the backseat of Casey's car, and also sleeping while sitting up in the waiting room, until Sarah shook him awake, telling him he shouldn't sleep with a concussion, not until a doctor could examine him.

Chuck knew he needed to heed Sarah's advice, but he also realized he felt better, even after that brief nap. His symptoms had been exacerbated by his fatigue.The clunking of Carina's uneven heels, pacing back and forth on the tile in the hallway sounded normal once more, not the echoing thudding it had been when she had started.

He rose and walked to a spot in the line she was pacing.

"I'm worried too, but you're wearing a path on the floor. An uneven path, one side deeper than the other." He pointed at her shoes when she gave him a blank look. "Limping. Why don't you sit?" Chuck encouraged.

"I can't," Carina insisted, crossing her arms defensively, defiantly. "I can't do anything to help Morgan. I can't do anything except wait."

"He's got a lot to live for," Chuck said compassionately to her. He meant it; he had come to understand in the past days what a truly remarkable woman Carina was.

She stopped pacing, uncrossed her arms and looked up at the ceiling. "I do. But you really think he believes that?"

Open tenderness, open vulnerability like that from Carina was surprising. Everything he had seen from Carina in the past 24 hours had shocked him, amazed him. It seemed she had reached down deep inside and pulled out her best self. And she was the one Morgan was living for.

"I do," he told her sincerely. "He admires you, Carina, your courage and your strength, all of the good in you. If he's the one who brings it out in you, all the better."

She stood for a moment as if stunned, then flashed him a crooked, grateful grin over her shoulder. "Thanks, Chuck," she whispered, touching his arm affectionately. "You always know just the right thing to say."

Carina suddenly reached into her pocket, fishing for something in the deep pocket of her sweater. "Oh, Chuck, give this back to Sarah. I saved it from the sidewalk at the station. I knew she'd want it back." She passed the white stone to his palm.

"What is this?" he asked curiously.

A heavy sadness passed over Carina, changing her features in an instant. "Chuck, do you know how I found out that Sarah got sent away because she was pregnant?"

Sarah had told him Carina knew…about Eleanor, almost as it happened. Chuck recalled the strange, pained expression on Sarah's face when she had told him. But he never got clarification. "No. I knew you knew, but I didn't know how."

"Normally, I would let her tell you. But I doubt she remembers the whole story, and even if she does, it's too traumatic for her to repeat. You saw her in the morning at the cemetery on Mother's Day, right? After she came home?"

Chuck nodded.

Carina blinked hard several times before she continued. "The night before, you were waiting and she never called you. Because the moment she got home, she vanished. Gone. In the rain…in the dark. Her father looked for her but he couldn't find her. I found her in the cemetery, digging into the baby's grave with her bare hands, absolutely hysterical."

Oh, Sarah, he thought, wincing as he remembered how she had looked that morning, washed out from crying. The dirt still under her fingernails.

"We took the stone from there. Everything else was a secret. She couldn't visit there, couldn't tell anyone. She had no one to talk to about it. She kept the stone with her. She knew I would know you all were there if I saw it."

He nodded in understanding. Sarah had treasured that stone, but was willing to lose it if it helped save her living child. He squeezed the stone in his hand, then slid it into his pocket. It wasn't right that a white pebble was all she had to remember her daughter.

The anxious stillness was broken as Gertrude appeared with Bolonia Grimes. Casey hurried to Gertrude, pulling her roughly into his arms, an unprecedented and so unexpected display of affection. Chuck realized the Caseys had been profoundly shaken by all of this, and were now just coming together again after each having suffered a life-threatening experience.

"You didn't drive, did you?" Casey asked as he released his wife.

"Oh, no, that was me," Bolonia admitted as she stepped forward. "How is Morgan?" she asked, touching Casey's sleeve.

"We're still waiting to talk to the doctor," Carina said as she approached the group. "But they already said the doctor can only talk to a family member." She muttered to herself, crossing her arms and shifting her eyes to the floor.

Sarah, who was still seated beside the chair Chuck vacated, stood and walked to Chuck, shifting Molly into Chuck's arms. The baby stirred, but settled comfortably against Chuck's shoulder. Molly's comfort, the ease of the interaction, filled his heart. Sarah walked to the group by the door.

"Well, they don't know it yet, but you're family," Bolonia said, tucking her arm through Carina's and holding tightly.

Blinking away tears, Carina replied, "This was all my fault, that this happened. I put him in danger and I–"

"No, no, no," Bolonia insisted, shaking her head as her short brown curls bounced. "You didn't do this. That awful man did. You saved Sarah's baby, dear."

Sarah's baby. Our baby. The more he heard it, the better it made him feel. No more secrets.

"She's right, you know," Sarah said, turning to her friend. Sarah brushed Carina's red hair back over her shoulder, before Sarah tossed her restraint aside and grabbed her friend in an enthusiastic hug. "You're so brave, what you did, everything that you did…for Molly, for me."

Carina met Chuck's eyes over Sarah's shoulder. "Well, you are my best friend, you know. You always were, even when I wasn't so nice to you." Carina rested her head against Sarah's. "I told Chuck he saved you, you know. But you definitely saved me. All these years, I've held onto you."

"Morgan's going to be ok," Sarah whispered, loudly enough for Chuck to hear. He prayed she was right.

Casey was waiting as Carina released Sarah. Chuck watched as Sarah blushed, folding her arms behind her back like she had when was 12. She's embarrassed by what Casey saw in the station, the fury of her attack on Shaw, Chuck realized.

"You're one tough cookie, Sarah," Casey said, his face neutral. Sarah's blush deepened. "There's nothing wrong with protecting what you care about. What you love. Nothing. Remember that." Chuck knew there was layer upon layer of meaning in Casey's words. He said less, but they meant more. He might have said more if he meant less.

In a blur of motion, Sarah stepped forward and grabbed Casey around his neck, hugging him hard, holding him, then stepping back quickly before Casey could protest. To Chuck's astonishment, Casey's eyes were wet. "You might not know you did, but you saved my life. He would have bashed my skull in, worse than Morgan's, if you hadn't attacked him when you did." Casey pressed his lips tightly together, forcing the next words out. "Don't ever let anyone make you feel…inferior… for any reason. Your Mom…and your Dad…would be so proud of you, Sarah."

Casey's affectionate words brought the odd scene to completion.

"Mrs. Grimes?"

Everyone in the waiting room turned at the sound of the doctor's voice. Bolonia stepped forward, her arm still linked to Carina's. "How is my son?" she asked. The doctor's eyes shifted to Carina, questioning, but Bolonia stood her ground. "This woman loves my son. She has every right to hear what you have to say."

Chuck watched Carina flush bright red, but she didn't deny Morgan's mother. Instead, she nodded, acknowledging the truth of the words.

"Your son is awake, talking." The sighs of relief were a chorus around them. "The x-rays came back clear, no fractures, no intracranial hemorrhaging. He has a nasty concussion and a fairly deep laceration on his head. We'll keep him for observation for a few days, but he should make a full recovery."

Carina sagged, sighing with relief, her only support Bolonia's arm. "Can we see him?" Carina asked.

The doctor led them inside. Not wanting to add to the crowd in the tiny room, Chuck waited in the open doorway, handing Molly back to Sarah. Morgan was sitting up, a large white gauzy bandage wrapped around his head. He had two black eyes, but was still smiling when he saw everyone.

"Morgan!" Carina exclaimed, releasing Bolonia and diving towards Morgan's hospital bed. At the last minute, she restrained herself, afraid her exuberant gratefulness might hurt him. She sat beside him on the bed, then bent at her waist and stretched herself across Morgan's chest. "I was so worried," she breathed.

Morgan rested his hand on her back. "Hey, I'm ok. My mother could have told you, I have the hardest head east of the Mississippi." Bolonia frowned, but everyone else laughed. "I'm just glad you're ok. That guy…putting his hands on you made me so angry." Morgan ran one finger delicately across her bruised cheek, turned up where he could see it.

"Thanks to Sarah, and Chuck, and Casey…everything is ok. He won't bother any of us again," Carina explained.

"Carina?" Morgan asked in a soft voice. She lifted her head to look at him. He spoke as if she were the only one who could hear him. "I think I heard you tell me…you love me. Was that just a dream?"

She shook her head and then kissed him softly on the lips, all that was appropriate for the situation, even though from the doorway he could see how strongly Carina restrained herself from doing more.

Sarah was at Chuck's side, Molly awake and curious, perched on Sarah's hip. With one hand, she signed while she spoke. "Morgan, we have someone we'd like you to meet. This is our daughter, Molly."

There was so much more Chuck had to learn in order to communicate with Molly. But she was just a baby. They could learn together. Sarah had spelled Molly's name, he noted. More slowly than Sarah had, he made the sign for each of the five letters.

Sarah made the sign for hello, bending all four of her fingers forward, then back up. Molly mimicked the sign at Morgan and Carina. Amazed, Chuck watched as the little girl twisted, making the same sign to Gertrude and Casey. Chuck laughed as Gertrude grabbed Casey's hand and forced his fingers to make the sign for him.

Molly stopped when her eyes found Chuck. She made the same sign, folding her chubby fingers. Then she tapped her thumb against her forehead twice, with her hand open, fingers splayed.

Chuck didn't know what it meant, but he saw Sarah react emotionally, fighting back tears. "What does that mean?" he asked.

"Daddy," Sarah whispered in awe. "She's seen me do that when we look at picture books. I just…she knows…"

Chuck's vision blurred as his eyes filled with tears, an enormous lump in his throat prohibiting him from speaking. It was his heart, not his head affecting his vision this time.

"Mommy," Sarah said, bumping her own thumb against her own chin in a similar sign. Molly's response was to touch a chubby hand to Sarah's chest, acknowledging her. Sarah's tears were free-flowing. Sarah made the sign Molly had done, against her forehead, and Molly pointed at Chuck. "Yes," Sarah said emphatically, as she exaggerated a head shake for her deaf daughter.

Chuck watched as Molly tapped at her own chest, a very rudimentary demonstration of the sign Sarah had made at the orphanage.

Happy.

Molly saw Sarah's tears, but also the smile…and remembered that meant Sarah was happy.

Yes, he thought. Happy. So happy.

October 13, 1952

Worcester, Massachusetts

A beautiful autumn day. The air was crisp, cool but not chilling. A rainbow colored canopy of leaves stretched overhead, shielding Chuck and Sarah as they walked through the peaceful grounds of the cemetery. The sun was impossibly golden, individual beams filtering through the treetops. Sarah's hair glowed when the sun illuminated her, her beauty in that moment otherworldly.

Chuck held Molly in his arms, sleeping against his shoulder, her weight now sometimes too much for Sarah in her condition, especially while walking on uneven ground. Chuck kept a watchful eye to make sure Sarah stepped carefully, ready to grab her elbow if she needed him to steady her.

Sarah had been full of questions when Chuck had explained only that he had something to show her. She was curious, and now solemn, understanding just what it was her husband wanted to show her.

Chuck had paid for this in the summer and had only gotten verification that it was finished at the end of September. He had been waiting to show Sarah.

This was the first time he was seeing it too.

Sarah knew the path to her parents' grave by heart. As they approached, Sarah had started to cry, her emotions stronger due to her pregnancy. Chuck saw the stone with Jack and Emma's names. The sapling lilac bush was there, barren of leaves now that it was fall, but destined to bloom again next May. When they would come here with both of their children.

On the other side of the lilac bush was a new headstone, slightly thinner and a little shorter than Jack and Emma's, but the same color and with the same style of lettering. A name and a date were inscribed on the stone.

Eleanor Emma Bartowski. April 10, 1951.

Sarah's hand quickly covered her mouth. "Oh, Chuck," she gushed. "You…you didn't have to do this."

"Yes, I did," he insisted. "She deserves to be acknowledged, remembered. Even if she only lived for a minute. She's our children's sister, and so our child. Even if I never knew her. The grieving that you needed was denied to you, because you weren't allowed to admit that she ever existed. But she did. You deserve more than a single white pebble to remember her by."

Sarah stepped forward, unable to speak. Chuck watched her run her finger over the letters of his last name, their last name.

"Your name?" she finally asked, her voice breaking.

"Yes, my name."

"But people will think–"

"I don't care what people think," he told her, making his point again. "I adopted Molly. She's my daughter. So is her sister."

He had told Gertrude and Casey his plans for this grave marker, and they had agreed with his reasoning. Had Chuck known that Sarah was pregnant, regardless of Bryce or any other complicating factor, he knew he would have come home from California and married her, if she would have had him. He couldn't go back in time and rewrite history, but he could make it right going forward, could acknowledge the deep truth of the past, his and hers, theirs.

"When she's old enough, we'll tell Molly who her biological father is. We'll tell her brothers and sisters. But our entire family will know that there was another sister. And that we loved her too. That we love her."

Sarah walked to stand in front of Chuck. She wrapped her arms around him, with Molly nestled against his chest. "I love you, Chuck. More than I can possibly say."

Chuck kissed the top of her head tenderly. "I love you too."

Against his ear, Sarah whispered, "I know your Eleanor will take care of my Eleanor until we see them both again."

The words, the sudden emotion almost overwhelmed him, but he regained his composure when he looked into Sarah's summer-sky blue eyes.

The color of heaven.