Making things okay again with Joanie was a slower process than I expected and I don't know why that was. I knew how bad I hurt her and I knew how deep those kinds of wounds went. I guess we were doing alright but sometimes I would try to touch her or kiss her and she would duck away from me or outright push me away. It hurt and more than once I got short with her about it. I felt terrible later of course but I was starting to lose hope that there would be a time when I wasn't being punished for this mistake. It was a bad feeling to think that I would never see trust in her eyes again, that all we had dreamed of might really have been taken in one stupid mistake that I made. I never forgot it was my fault.

But life did have to move forward. School started and it was Joanie's last year of law school. I started my new job which was a little scary. Sometimes I think it's hardest to start something when it's what you wanted. I had it so built up in my mind and it lived up to my expectations to an extent but nothing can entirely. I know sometimes I felt there was so much at stake every single minute. I didn't have the honor student with a happy home just needing to know if he or she should take chemistry or biology. Every kid I saw all day had a life like I did or like Jesse did or like Kid did. I know that anything I did for them was an improvement in their lives but of course I wanted to save them all and I knew I couldn't. I think a part of me, even in my idealized view of what the job would be like, knew that and that was probably most of the reason I was so nervous about starting at it. The worst was that normally it was Joanie who would reassure me about things like that. Remember that sixth sense of hers. I couldn't rightly go to her with my silly insecurities when I had made a mockery of everything she thought she could rely on.

My first day of school, I woke up to Joanie cooking breakfast. Now we ate breakfast. We didn't skip because of time like so many do now but often it was toast and coffee or something equally simple. Things like pancakes waited for weekends. But damned if that wasn't what she was making—pancakes. I wasn't even sure how to react. Sometimes I could walk up to her like I always did and slip my arms around her waist and kiss her neck and she would act like she always did. But others I would get the cold shoulder. I just stood there.

"Good morning, Joanie," I said timidly.

She looked at me then with a warm smile and barely a trace of the mistrust that I was so used to seeing usurp every look she gave me.

"Good morning, James. Did you sleep well?"

"Not really," I confessed. As much as I didn't want to bring my problems to her when I'd already messed things up so badly, I couldn't lie to her either. She always knew and it would just hurt her worse.

She stepped away from the stove carrying a plate of pancakes and once they were on the table she wrapped her arms around me.

"Those kids are lucky to have you, you know."

I wasn't even sure how to respond. I had no right seeking comfort from her but then I wasn't seeking, she was offering and that was different. She looked up at me with her eyes shining.

"I'm very proud of you," she said, "I want you to know that. Even with everything that's happened, I am proud of what you've done and I'm proud to be your wife."

I didn't know what to say. As hopeless as I'd been starting to feel, to have her say something like that when I needed it the most, I just had no idea how to respond. So I kissed her. I kissed her good. I kissed her like I don't think I had kissed her since before the ugly incident with Noah's soon to be ex-wife. I kissed her without feeling apologetic about wanting to and I kissed her without worrying I'd get slapped for it. I kissed her like I used to when she would do or say just what I needed to keep going. When I broke the kiss I could see a few tears had made their way down her cheeks. I thought maybe I had messed up. She reached up and placed her hand on the side of my face.

"I've missed you," she said, "I don't want to push you away anymore."

I opened my mouth to tell her things like I deserved her treatment and it was okay if she still felt uneasy but she placed a finger on my lips to silence me.

"We'll talk more tonight, my love," she whispered and she hadn't called me anything like that in quite a while. "You go help those kids. I do love you so."

"I love you too, Joanie," I told her, "Not sure how I got so lucky to have you but I love you."

"I know."

She made me sit down and eat something which was hard because I was still nervous but I did feel a lot better knowing Joanie was still behind me cheering me on and believing in me. There's not a lot a man can't do with a good woman believing in him.

I went to work that day with a little spring in my step. Things went well I have to say. I knew it was only the first day but the few students I did see all seemed like kids I could help with little trouble. Most of them just needed someone to talk to. Really that's the job description for social worker, listening while people talk. How badly I wanted someone to listen to me when I was a kid and I never had that. I guess I was always trying to make it up to that kid I was. It felt like maybe if I could do for those kids what no one did for me that it would heal what was broken inside me. It worked to an extent too.

I have to admit being a little nervous about coming home that night. And it was night. There was a lot more paperwork involved in the new job and I was there until nearly five o'clock most nights and not hitting the door when the bell rang like I had managed before. I came home thinking about what I could get going for supper or maybe thinking of going out or ordering something but I could smell Joanie already had supper cooking. It smelled wonderful too. I recognized the smell immediately. It was kugel. Now there are a lot of different kinds of kugel and a lot of them are kind of sweet and get eaten at brunches and such but this was a special one that Joanie's mom taught her to make and I guess it was kind of like a macaroni and cheese type of thing. It was one of my favorite foods in the world or at least it became that the first time I had it. I sort of felt uncomfortable that after all the trouble I caused that she was there making my favorite dish. I wished I had at least picked up some flowers on my way home or something.

I walked into the apartment and Joanie was actually humming along with the radio. She had changed into jeans after work and her hair was just loosely pulled away from her face and she was dancing and humming to the radio. If I remember correctly it was "Bus Stop" by The Hollies. Not that it mattered, what mattered was that Joanie looked happy and relaxed. I hadn't seen her that way in weeks and that was my fault. She looked over and saw me and smiled a little sheepishly and then bounced over and kissed my cheek.

"Welcome home. How was your first day?"

"Well before I walked in it was just good but now it's spectacular."

"Supper's almost ready," she smiled walking away and grabbing a beer out of the fridge for me.

"Smells like kugel," I noted and she smiled wider and nodded. "You didn't have to go to that trouble."

"I haven't been very good to you lately," she said, "I realize that now. I'm sorry."

She looked so sad and lost and then blinked and took a breath before going to check on what was in the oven.

"We'll talk more later."

I let it drop for then but I was worried. This wasn't at all how my Joanie acted and she hadn't been that terrible to me at all. I actually felt she had been more than fair to me. We ate quietly for a while before Joanie asked more about my day. I told her about how the new job worked but it felt off somehow in a way I can't really explain. After supper we sat on the couch to watch TV and Joanie jumped up.

"I should grab you another beer and maybe make some popcorn too."

I latched onto her wrist and pulled her back to me.

"I don't need another beer and I don't need popcorn," I told her, "You said we'd talk and if you're looking to please me—which seems an odd thing for you to want to do—talking is what I want."

"I just don't like the way things have been," she said and I don't know how she thought I wouldn't notice her avoiding looking me in the eye, "I love you and I love us and I want us back again. You made a mistake and I know you'd give anything if you could take it back. I know that. We can still be okay. We can still be like we used to."

I think she was trying to convince herself more than she was me.

"Joanie, you don't have to push this to being alright before it really feels alright to you."

"But I want it to be alright," she responded, "Don't you, James?"

As she spoke she was climbing on my lap on the couch and straddling my legs.

"Of course I do but-"

I couldn't speak because her lips covered mine and her tongue was in my mouth. She was grinding her hips and rubbing against my groin. I knew I had to say something. This felt too desperate, too much like after Stan when all she wanted was to feel something other than pain and fear and she didn't care much what it was she felt. When she broke away from me I tried to speak but she was lifting her shirt over her head and she wasn't wearing a bra that day. I was suddenly faced with two of my favorite sights. Joanie wasn't playing fair but then she didn't want to. I wrapped my arms around her and stood up bringing her with me. She kept her legs around me and I carried her like that to the bedroom.

"Take me, James," she whispered in my ear, "Take me now."

That's the kind of invitation only a great fool passes up and for all the things I am, and sometimes those things involve me being quite foolish, I am not a great fool. I took her to our bed and I laid claim to her every way I knew how. And I will suffice to say that Joanie left no doubt who I belonged to. I wouldn't ever forget again.

When I finally woke up from the workout Joanie put me through it was morning and I had somehow forgotten all my objections of the night before. Of course another home cooked breakfast with eggs and hash browns and even fresh squeezed orange juice go a long way to making a man forget things.

"So what is on your schedule today?" I asked her.

"Class and some research for Noah's case," she said like it was the most boring thing we could talk about. This was not my Joanie but then I knew we still weren't on firm footing and I figured it had to do with some of her issues that were not as resolved as she might want them to be. She seemed alright so I let it drop. I learned later that when people seem alright is when there is the greatest cause for worry.

I went in to work like usual and saw a few kids and did some paperwork. Typical day until about noon or so, I guess. I looked up to see Lou standing in the door. She had a bag from the deli down the street and a look on her face I couldn't place. Well I could sort of. She looked scared.

"Hey Lou," I said trying not to sound too worried. "What brings you down here? Aren't you usually working this time of day?"

"Al gave me the afternoon off," she replied looking past me and it was almost like when she had first come back after we found out Kid was missing. "I needed to talk to you. You're not busy are you?"

"Barring any major emergency I'm not busy at all," I told her, "I had one appointment today and mostly I was just going to do some paperwork. Sit down and tell me what's upsetting you. I haven't seen you this upset in quite a while."

"I'm probably being silly but at least I brought some lunch," she offered and pulled the sandwiches out of the bag while I went out into the main office and grabbed us a couple cups of coffee. Once we were settled I looked at Lou seriously across my desk.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I don't know that anything's wrong, exactly," she said and Lou was a tiny thing anyway but she always had what you'd call presence that made her seem not so small. But right then she looked smaller than I had ever seen her. She looked younger than Theresa and even less sure of herself.

"I got this envelope today," she sighed, "I don't know what it is."

"Is it about Kid?"

She nodded and I came out from behind my desk and sat in the chair next to hers. I took her hand.

"I'm here," I said, "And it can't be that bad or the news would have come in person."

She took a deep breath and looked at me once more and then tore the top of the envelope. It was a big envelope and inside were three more envelopes. They were regular sized like you'd send a letter in and I recognized the writing on the outside. She did too as her hand flew to her mouth.

"Oh my God!" she cried.

Now I should back up and explain that the Red Cross is an amazing organization and they don't just do things like blood drives after disasters, they are pretty busy all the time. One of the things they did during the war was to find ways to get letters from the families of imprisoned servicemen to the prisoners themselves. We had a special address to mail them to though we were cautioned against sending too many or sending them too often. I let Lou handle the correspondence but we all took turns adding a little note to include to him. The hard part is that we didn't know for certain he was in a prison camp. The possibility still technically existed that he could be dead although I never bought that and neither did Lou.

Now the other thing the Red Cross did was to try to get the letters back to the families that the POW's would write. That was harder and not everyone got letters back and we sure didn't get them all. For starters not all POW's were allowed to write at all and as things dragged on it got even more restrictive.

But in my office that day we were looking at three letters from Kid. I held her hand while she read but I didn't read them. I never did read them. They were hers and hers alone but then she handed me one sheet of paper that had been folded into one of the letters.

"This one isn't addressed to me," she said and I looked and sure enough it wasn't.

I slumped back in the chair with a sigh.

"You don't have to read it now," she told me, "You can wait until you're alone. I don't think I could have read these alone, Jimmy." She paused and squeezed my arm. "We were right though. He's alive. He's miserable and hurt and living like no one should but he's alive and that's not dead and that means he could come back to me."

I turned to her and took her hand again.

"It means he will come back to you," I said forcefully, "I know him, Lou and he will find a way to survive and somehow he will make it back to you and Theresa and the boys. He will."

She threw her arms around my neck and I could feel her tears hitting my skin.

"Thank you, Jimmy. I don't know what I would do without you."

She left a little while later and even then I didn't unfold the note. I couldn't. I opened my door and stayed that way until the bell. Got paperwork done but I'm not sure how since I was pretty foggy. I left right at the dismissal bell which wasn't usual for me but I had to get out of there. I went home knowing Joanie wouldn't be there for a while yet and I sat on the davenport and finally dared to open the note. My hands were shaking and a part of me wanted to throw the paper down and run from it but I had to know. I read that note over and over so many times I can still recite it to this day. I have forgotten many things through time but I will never forget the words that assured me that I wasn't crazy and my brother was still alive.

"Dear Jimmy,

"First I guess I should say sorry. I promised to get my butt home safe and I didn't. I don't know how I survived but I'm pretty sure none of the other guys did. They trusted me, Jimmy. They trusted me with their lives. I let everyone down. I know I did. Those guys, you, Lou, Theresa, the boys. I promise I'll find a way to get home so I can make it up to everyone. I know I don't have the right to ask favors of you but I need to all the same. I know I don't even need to ask you to look after Lou and the kids. I just somehow know you are. Even if you're still sore at me you wouldn't take it out on them. Theresa's growing into a young lady so you better make sure the boys stay away or at least that only the nice ones get through. Don't let my boys forget me, Jimmy. They're so little and I don't know how long I'll be gone. Just please make sure they don't forget their old man. I need you to give Emma a hug for me and make sure to tell her she's the best mom a guy could ask for. I love her. Tell her that too.

"And I have a few things to say just to you. Remember how we used to camp on the roof sometimes? I know it wasn't really camping. It was being kicked out but we pretended we were camping anyway. At night I think of those times. It's real lonely here, Jimmy. We aren't allowed to talk to each other a lot and all I have is you. Thing is, and this is going to sound nuts, sometimes when I see and hear you in my mind you're not a little kid. You're you just like you are now and you're not telling me how Polly started hitting you too or how you wished you could play for the Tigers. You're telling me to hold on and that you know I'm out here. Maybe it's just wishful thinking or maybe there was more to when we decided to become blood brothers. If it's really you I hear, don't give up on me. I'll come home. In the meantime, you take care of Joanie and you take care of yourself. You're my brother and I love you, man.

Kid"

I know I had tears running down my face and I don't know how long I sat there but when I heard the key in the door it broke me out of my haze. I jumped up and went to the door wiping my eyes and when Joanie came in I grabbed her and kissed her hard.

She blinked at me a couple times.

"That was a wonderful welcome, my love," she said as she was catching her breath, "But why?"

"Because I love you and I don't let you know it enough. Turn right around. We are going out to eat."

"I don't understand," she looked worried as she spoke.

"I know and I'll try to explain but right now I need to take you out."

"James, you've been crying," she observed, "What happened?"

"Kid's alive," I answered and damn near started crying again. "Me and Lou got proof today, real proof. We got letters from him. My brother is alive and he told me to take care of you and I haven't been and I need to."

"Oh James," she cried and hugged me tight, "I am so happy for you and for Lou and for all of us. I was going to make something for supper. I still can and you can relax. I'm sure it's been very emotional."

"No," I insisted, "Tonight my beautiful, intelligent, amazing wife does not set one dainty little foot in the kitchen. Tonight we go out and celebrate!"

That night was good. It was one of the best. Parts of that letter still do a number on me. Just the thought that Bobby and Jack were so young they could possibly forget him hurt. I spent a lot of time with them telling them stories and showing them pictures. I know after a while he wasn't anything more to them than stories from their weird uncle and pictures in a book but at least they knew who he was. I think what affected me most in the letter was that he could feel me. I knew I could close my eyes and feel him. I knew he was out there. The thought that he knew I was searching for him like that and that maybe it was giving him some kind of strength, well it made a lot of things easier to take. I ain't going to sit here and tell you to believe we had some psychic connection. I ain't ruling it out either. I have lived a good long time and the thing that you learn most as you move through the years is how little we really know and understand about our world. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on both our parts but maybe there really was a connection and all the times I spent thinking about him and knowing he was out there and wanting him to know he was loved still, maybe that had some power too. I'm just saying it's possible.

I have to admit I was flying pretty high after that. There was some vindication in finding out the faith I had in Kid being alive was well placed and knowing he really was out there made the days easier. I guess being so happy about Kid made it easier to miss the signs that something wasn't right with my Joanie. She was still acting a little weird. She was sitting in on the custody hearings and going to school and still getting supper on for me when I walked in the door from work. She would even meet me at the door with a cold beer and then untie my tie for me. If I smoked a pipe she probably would have had that and my slippers ready for me too. It should have set off so many bells and whistles in my mind and it didn't so what I came home to one day should not have caught me by surprise and when I look back I know it was at least partly my fault. Oh hell it was mostly my fault.

I was a little earlier than normal but not exceptionally so and there was no smell of food cooking. I knew the hearings had ended a couple days before and we already had the good news that Noah had sole custody of little Michael. So I thought that Joanie maybe was out studying or something. I walked in and there she was on the floor backed up against the back of the couch. Her knees were pulled tight to her chest and her nose was bleeding. I rushed over to her.

"Joanie," I hollered at her and probably louder than I should to someone in that state. "Baby, what happened? Who did this to you? Was someone else here?"

She blinked at me and still looked about a million miles away. My mind raced to a hundred different things that could have happened and none of them were good.

"I'm calling Sam," I said and started to stand up but she grabbed my sleeve and held tight.

"James," she whispered and I waited for more but there was nothing. I leaned forward and kissed her lightly and then pulled back and stroked my hand over her face.

She blinked again and then looked horrified.

"Oh James," she nearly wailed, "You're bleeding, what happened?"

I wiped my face and just looked at her.

"It's your blood," I told her, "You have a nosebleed. I kissed you. I must have gotten some of your blood on me. You have to tell me who hurt you. Who was here?"

"No one," she said softly and looked ashamed. It was only then I noticed the scratch marks on her arms a couple of which were bleeding too. "No one was here. No one hurt me."

"I don't understand. You're bleeding. You aren't saying you did this to yourself?"

"I must have," she replied looking up at me with those big brown eyes as if begging me to tell her that she was going to be okay. I think a part of her thought I would ship her off to the nearest psych ward but things were different then and even now I prefer to see if there are other options. I mean sometimes you just know there aren't but often there are. I picked her up and carried her to rest on the couch and then went to the kitchen and got a cool, damp cloth so I could clean her face.

I cleaned her up and kissed her forehead.

"I should start supper," she said, "It's going to be so late now."

"I don't care if we end up eating peanut butter sandwiches at midnight, Joanie. You are sitting right here with me and we are figuring this out."

"I'm fine now," she tried to convince me.

"No you aren't," I replied, "I don't think you have been for a while and I've been overlooking it. We can work all this out together. I know we can."

This has been one of the toughest writing days I have ever had...First I finished up a story for a challenge elsewhere...you'll all get to read it eventually but it was so raw and emotional and then I went back to this chapter that was only about half written. I'm getting some chocolate and going to bed...

Oh by the way...anxiety attacks can sometimes look just like what you saw with Joanie...I know what's wrong with her...kind of...Jimmy's good and he'll get to the root of it...mostly. And the whole thing about letters from POW's is true.-J