Date: Tue, 28 May 2002 17:55:35 -0400
From: Writer Boy <writerboy69@hotmail.com>
Subject: jc's hitchhiker - part 106

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:

1) If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or
you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You
shouldn't be here.

2) I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no
way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or
anything else.  This is a work of pure fiction.

Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I enjoy
constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy
flames, and will not tolerate them.

Back to the story in progress.

***Jack***

My spirits were a little down during lunch, despite the festive atmosphere
of the restaurant. We had gone to a pretty run of the mill family fun type
of bar and restaurant, one of the kind of places with perky staff, brightly
striped tables, and a bunch of crap on the walls. I was never sure what the
intent in decorating these places was, as I'd never been in a real house
decorated like this. It gave the impression that they had cleaned out a
couple of garages, or maybe bought out a few yard sales, and just nailed
everything they found to the inside of the restaurant. Andrew and Josh had
both suggested it, since it was near the lawyer's office, but they were
both slowly realizing that it wasn't working as a pick me up. If anything,
looking around at all of the happy parents and families was just serving as
more of a reminder of what I didn't have.

"Jack?" Josh asked. I looked up from my mozzarella sticks, distracting
myself from the comfort that fried cheese provides. "You're not having fun,
are you?"

"No, I'm sorry," I answered. Andrew looked up from his huge, bloody steak,
and Josh had laid his silverware carefully on the side of his shrimp and
pasta platter. "Guys, go ahead, enjoy lunch. Don't worry about me. I'll be
fine."

"Are you sure?" Josh asked. He glanced at Andrew. "Andrew, do you think
maybe you could?"

"No," I said quickly, putting a hand on Andrew's shoulder as he started to
rise. "There's no point in your steak getting cold. Josh, I guess I'm just
kind of depressed. I mean, I thought I was so close, and we find a really
nice lady who's not my mother, and a burned down house where the other
candidate used to be. This is just frustrating, and a little draining. I
feel all keyed up inside, but then when we hit a dead end again, I have
this let down. I just feel like I've been riding on a roller coaster since
we landed."

"Do you want to stop?" Josh asked, looking carefully at me. "We don't have
to go see the lawyer. He's open tomorrow, or the next day. We could just
take a day off, if you need to."

I thought about it, but shook my head.

"No, I'd rather just do this today, and get it over with," I said finally,
picking up another breaded strip of cheese.

"Jack, I don't want you stressed," Josh said, swallowing. He looked a
little sad as he stared into my eyes, and I folded a hand over his on the
table. "After, you know, last night, and then the stuff today, I don't want
you on this emotional spin, Jack. It's not good for you. I don't want you
to have an attack. If you need to take a day to breathe, to do nothing and
collect yourself, please take it. We still have almost a week. We don't
have to rush."

"I know, Josh," I said. "And I know you're just worried about me, but I
think I'm ok. I feel a little emotional, and a little upset, but I also
feel pretty stable.  I think I'll be fine, and I'm not just saying that to
make you feel better, ok?"

"OK," Josh said, smiling. I glanced at Andrew, and saw him going back to
his steak with a weird look on his face, but, like so many of his other
looks, I couldn't read it.

Eventually, however much I was both dreading and anticipating it, lunch was
over, and it was time to drive back over to the attorney's office. We drove
the couple of blocks over, watching the storefront businesses give way to
houses again, with businesses mixed among them. We pulled up across the
street, as we had before, and stared out the window at Travis Favato's
offices. Unlike the previous trip, there was now a car in the driveway, but
only one.

"Could be him, could be the secretary," Andrew said, shrugging.

"Only one way to find out," I said, opening my door. "Andrew, could you
stay in the car, please?"

"Sure," he answered, watching in the rearview as Josh and I got out. "Same
instructions as yesterday: Don't get killed."

"He just gets funnier and funnier," I said dryly as Josh and I walked, hand
in hand, up the sidewalk. We climbed the porch again, and Josh squeezed my
hand quickly, tightly, as I reached up and rapped the heavy brass
knocker. We heard footsteps coming down the hall, and then the door swung
open, and a short, older man with white hair and little round glasses was
looking up at us. "Hello?"

He looked at us thoughtfully, his head cocked to the side as his eyes
ticked back and forth between the two of us. He was wearing a vest and
matching slacks, as if he had come to work and taken off his suit jacket,
leaving it on a chair somewhere. His hair was neatly parted and completely
white, and I figured he had to be the guy we were looking for.

"So, Jackson Springer," he said, surprising us both. He held out his hand,
and I shook it.  He did the same for Josh. "JC Chasez, the famous
husband. A pleasure to meet you, and Jackson, a pleasure to see you
again. You don't remember me, I'm sure, but I always thought that you would
come back here someday. I'm Travis Favato, and I was at the hospital the
night you were born."

I stood on the doorstep, trying to process. We hadn't had to argue, explain
who we were, or ask for anything. He knew who we were, and he had been
there when I was born. He had our answers, and he seemed like he might
actually give them. He stepped aside, holding the door open, and Josh gave
me a little nudge. I blinked, shaking my head, unfreezing my feet from the
porch, and we followed him inside. He smiled at us again, gesturing for us
to follow him, and we walked down the hall, hand in hand, to his office.
Stepping inside, he sat behind a wide, empty desk, and Josh and I sat
across from him in a pair of chairs. Josh looked over at me, smiling
encouragingly, and Mr.  Favato watched us from his seat, waiting, his hands
folded on the desk in front of him.

"Did you, did Evelyn and Jackson, senior, call you?" I asked, a little
confused. "Did they tell you I was coming?"

"No, they didn't," he answered, leaning back a little. The office was nice,
tastefully decorated, with a lot of wood and those brass lamps with green
shades that seem to show up in every lawyer's office.

"Then how did you know I would be here?" I asked. Next to me, Josh nodded.
"How did you know I would come?"

"I didn't know you would come today," he said, shrugging. "I thought you
would, since I heard last night that you were in town. You two might think
you're blending in around here, but people notice, and people still talk,
especially with the two of you being so high profile right now. I knew that
someday you would come back here, though, that someday you would want
answers, because it's in your blood. It's what your mother would have
done. Your birth mother, I mean, not Evelyn."

"Nancy?" I asked. "Nancy Richardson?"

Travis smiled and nodded.

"I see you've been doing your homework," he said. "You'll have to let me
know how you did that, because I know Jack, senior, didn't tell you. I'm
impressed, actually, but not surprised. Nancy was very intelligent, and
from what I've seen of your television interviews, and read in magazines,
you inherited that, too, along with her sense of integrity, and some good,
strong values. I know they say those things aren't all genetic, that some
of it comes from the environment, but I see so much of her in you."

"Please, please, tell me what you know," I said, hearing my voice shake a
little. "Please tell me everything. We've come so far, and I just, I really
just want to know."

"I understand," Travis said, nodding. "I didn't mean to sound evasive. I'm
not sure what you guys know already, or what I should cover."

"We don't know anything," I blurted, a little louder than I should have.
Josh rested his hand on my shoulder for a second.

"Jack," he said quietly, squeezing gently.

"I'm ok," I said, offering him a tight smile as I reached up to rest my
hand on top of his, feeling the strength there beneath his soft skin. I
turned back to Travis.  "You seem to know at least a little about me. Did
my parents stay in touch with you?"

"No, I haven't spoken to them since you were a year old," Travis answered.
"Your father told me that they weren't planning to tell you until you were
older. I'm assuming they did?"

"Not exactly," I answered. "I overheard Evelyn telling Josh, and I kind of
drug it out of her, but she didn't really seem to know anything."

"She wasn't involved," Travis said, standing. He crossed his office to a
small refrigerator, hidden in a cabinet, and removed a bottled water. He
held one out to Josh and I, and we each took one. "Before you were born, I
used to live in Ohio, near your parents. Your father and I worked together,
not in the same department, of course, but I was a lawyer for the company,
and he was in marketing. We were friends, and our wives as well, but my
wife wasn't well. I asked for a transfer out here, where it was drier, and
the desert did her a lot of good. I stayed in touch with your parents,
casually, and that's how I found out that they wanted to adopt another
child. I knew that Nancy was looking for a good family for her child, and
after I thought about it, I asked her if she might want to arrange
something. She met your father, and after talking to him, she agreed."

"I don't understand, though," I said. "How did you happen to know her? How
did you know that she was looking for a family?"

"That's a longer story," Travis answered, picking up a cardboard box,
neatly closed but still looking pretty old, and set it down on the
desktop. "When I heard that you were in town, I went downstairs to the
storage rooms, in the basement, and I got this out. I haven't opened it in
a while, but I'm sure everything is still here. I made a promise to Nancy
that if you ever came, and wanted to know what had happened, and where you
came from, that I would show all of this to you someday."

I felt my eyes tear a little, and I inhaled sharply as the realization
struck me.

"She died, didn't she?" I asked. "She made you promise because she died."

Josh leaned over and squeezed an arm around my shoulders, holding me
tightly, as he rested his head against the side of mine. He knew it, too,
and Travis sighed unhappily as he stood with the box, undoing the tape.

"I'm sorry, Jack," he said finally. "You're right, and I'm sorry she
couldn't be here herself."

"I waited too long," I said, feeling angry suddenly. I stood, and Josh
stood with me, but I pulled away from him a little, pacing. Tears began to
trickle down my face.  "Why did they wait so long to tell me? Why didn't
they ever give me a chance to know her?"

"Jack," Josh said softly, holding his arms out to me. I stepped into them,
and laid my head down on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so, so sorry."

I felt a hand gently tap my shoulder from the other side. I turned, and saw
Travis staring at me, his face gentle and concerned.

"Jack, it wouldn't have made any difference," Travis said quietly. "Please,
I know this isn't news you wanted to hear, that this can't have been the
way you hoped to find out about this, but this doesn't have to be a sad
day. It wouldn't have mattered when you found out, Jack. Please don't be
angry at your parents for not telling you."

"I'm sorry," I said to both of them, looking around for tissues. "I'm
sorry.  I'm not usually like this."

"Under the circumstances I think it's understandable," Travis said,
smiling.  "Why don't we sit down again? I have so much to show you, and
tell you."

As we sat back down I slid my chair closer to Josh, and we linked hands
again. Travis lifted the lid off of the box, and reached in, taking out a
framed photograph. He passed it to me, and I saw a girl, maybe
nineteen. The picture was old, obviously, the clothes a little outdated,
but she looked bright and happy, vibrant and alive.

"Jack, she has your eyes," Josh said quietly, his fingers brushing the
glass of the frame, just below her face. "She has your hair, too. Or, you
know, you have hers."

I smiled back at him, and we looked up to see Travis smiling at us.

"That's your mother, Jack," Travis said. "That's Nancy Richardson's senior
portrait, from her last year of high school. That's how she looked when I
met her, the day that she walked in here and asked me to represent her, so
that she could sue her high school."

Josh and I both blinked at him, surprised. I'm not sure what kind of story
I thought I would hear, but this definitely wasn't it.

"Why?" Josh asked. "People didn't do that in the seventies, did they?"

"It was rather surprising at the time," Travis agreed, nodding. "When she
came in, I thought maybe it was some sort of joke, a prank of some kind. My
secretary, a nice woman, wasn't going to let her in, but it was a quiet
day, and I was intrigued. When she came in, though, when she sat down right
across from me, where you are now, I took one look at her face, and I could
see that she was deadly serious. She wanted to sue her high school to force
them to allow her to remain in classes, and not put her in special class
away from the main student body."

"Why did they want to remove her?" I asked, just waiting to hear that she
was an arsonist or a problem child of some sort. It wouldn't be at all
surprising. "Did she, you know, was she in trouble?"

"That's one way of saying it," Travis answered. "She was pregnant, and the
high school had a policy of removing pregnant young women from regular
classes when they started to show. Most schools at the time did, but she
had an argument neatly mapped out on this pad that she brought with her,
explaining why the classes were inferior, and how she was being denied the
right to her education. I tried arguing it with her, explaining to her that
the school had this policy for a reason, because of the parents and the
community. I didn't talk about morals, didn't say it, but she caught the
gist of it. She asked what I thought, what I personally thought about her,
an unwed teenage girl still in high school, sitting in my office pregnant."

"And what did you tell her?" I asked, holding the picture, trying to
imagine this girl sitting in here, in chairs much like these. What had her
voice sounded like?  What kind of words would she use?

"Well, I started to say that I could understand how a girl like her could
get into trouble, and make a mistake, and she cut me off right there," he
said, smiling. Josh and I waited.  "She had a lot of spark, Nancy did, and
she said, 'OK, for starters, my baby is not a mistake. If you're going to
be my lawyer, you can stop calling it that right now. It may not be
planned, but I will not call it a mistake.' I looked at her, and I pointed
out that I hadn't agreed to be her lawyer yet, and she laughed, and told me
that I'd take the case.  You know what? I did. She wasn't showing yet,
wasn't even two months along, but she had goals, and she wasn't going to
let the school stand in the way of them."

"What happened?" Josh asked. "If she cared that much about Jack, why didn't
she keep him?"

"You have to know a little bit about her situation to understand that,"
Travis said, leaning back. "The Richardsons didn't have a lot of money, or
really, any. They could barely support themselves, and it was just the
three of them. Nancy was an only child. Her mother worked here in town, as
a housekeeper, and her father couldn't work.  He'd been injured in a car
accident, a hit and run, and couldn't walk. Nancy wanted to get out of this
town, and she had the intelligence and the determination to try for it, but
she didn't want to leave her family behind. She pushed herself in school,
and had extremely high grades.  She wanted to go to college, and her
parents, they wanted her to go. She had all her dreams mapped out. She was
going to go away, on a scholarship, to one of the state schools, and get a
job where she could help support her parents. And then she found out that
she was pregnant, and she was afraid that the high school would block her,
and she saw all her plans about to collapse, so she did the only thing she
knew how to do. She decided to fight."

"Wait," I interjected, curious. "What about, did she ever say anything
about my father?"

"No," Travis answered, shaking his head. "I asked her, not that day, but
after I'd known her for a while, when she was pretty far along with you,
and she said that he wanted nothing to do with you. When she told him she
was pregnant, he refused to believe that you were his, so Nancy washed her
hands of him. She was sure, but she wasn't going to force him."

"Gosh, she doesn't sound at all like anyone we know," Josh said, smiling. I
smacked him lightly on the arm.

"What happened with the lawsuit?" I asked. "Did you guys go through with
it?"

"Yes, yes we did," he answered, reaching into the box again. He pulled out
a small book, like a photo album. "When you get time, I'm sure you'll want
to read that.  It's all the articles about the lawsuit, which, at the time
was rather groundbreaking, at least around here. There was a lot of protest
from the school board, and from some of the groups here in town, a few of
the pushier churches. We fought hard, though, and whenever I felt like
giving up, Nancy gave me a little kick, and we went back to work. She
couldn't really afford to pay me, of course, but she insisted on doing
something, so I had her in here after school, helping out. My secretary was
a little scandalized at first, but Nancy grew on us both, and we began to
enjoy having her around. She was so bright, and funny, and she treated
everything as if it was completely serious but also completely humorous at
the same time. We won the lawsuit, by the way. Actually, it was a
settlement.  The school agreed to let her stay in her classes, finally, to
end the publicity."

"What about the rest of it?" I asked. Beside me, Josh nodded. I set the
scrapbook aside, to look at later. "If she fought that hard, if she felt
that strongly, why did she give me up?  Why did she want to find a family
to give me to, if she was so close to hers?"

"That was an extremely painful decision for her to make," Travis said,
sighing. "I came in one day, and she was sitting out at the front desk, in
tears. Mona, my secretary, was handing her tissues, and looked like she was
about to cry as well. I asked what was going on, and the two of them
explained to me that Nancy had been talking to her parents, and praying,
and thinking, and that she had come to the decision that she couldn't keep
you."

"Because it would stop her from going to college?" I asked, surprised that
the girl I had heard so much about would do something so selfish. She
didn't sound like she was happy about it, but still, she wanted to get rid
of me because I was blocking her goals.

"No," Travis answered. "That was a concern, but not the real reason. The
honest truth was that they couldn't afford to keep you. She could have had
you, but you would have lived out your entire life in poverty. Nancy
wouldn't have gone to college, because she would have to take care of
you. She'd have to take the kind of job her mother had, and she would have
had to work every day to give you the basics of life, Jack.  The basics.
Her father wasn't in the best of health, and her mother was already getting
old. Someday, she might have been able to send you to school, might have
been able to get you out, maybe, and maybe wasn't a chance she was willing
to take. If she kept you, neither of you might make it, but if she gave you
up, both of you could. Even still, she regretted the choice bitterly,
Jack. As her pregnancy progressed, she got a little unhappy, and dwelled on
it some, but once she made it, she was sure it was the right decision."

"I guess it was," I sighed, looking at my hands in my lap. One of Josh's
hands drifted over to settle over mine, and I took it, rubbing my thumb
over the back as I grasped him.  I looked up and saw Josh watching me
carefully, his face concerned, and I smiled to let him know I was ok. "I
mean, it worked. I got out. I never wanted for anything, at least, not for
anything material. She sent me away, and I got the better life she wanted."

"It wasn't like that, Jack," Travis said. "It wasn't so cavalier. She
agonized over it, over what it would mean to you, and what it meant about
her as a person. She questioned everything about herself, Jack,
everything. She went over and over it with me, and with her parents. I have
to confess that you almost ended up being my son, Jack."

"What?" I asked, blinking at him. Beside me Josh gasped sharply.

"My wife and I couldn't have children, because of her health," Travis said,
sighing. "We tried, several times, but it just wasn't going to happen. I
approached Nancy one day when she was working here, and asked her if she
wanted us to take you in, if she wanted us to adopt and raise you, and she
said no. We talked about it, and she decided that she wouldn't be able to
see you, wouldn't be able to get on with her own life.  She wanted you to
be happy, and safe, but she didn't want to see you growing up if she
couldn't be there.  When she refused, I remembered your father, and we
arranged the rest. When she went into labor, I called your father, and he
flew in, and then you were gone."

"Why didn't she sign the forms herself?" I asked. "If she was so sure, why
didn't she do that?"

"She couldn't," Travis answered. "She authorized me to sign the papers, and
asked if I would, because in the end she couldn't. She knew that it was the
best thing for you, but in the end she couldn't do it. She couldn't give
you up, and she asked if I would do it for her, because she was convinced
that keeping you was selfish. She believed that in her heart, Jack. She
believed that keeping you would only benefit her, would only serve her
good, and not yours, and she didn't want to do that. She didn't look at
you, didn't see you, and didn't want to sign the papers for you, because
she was afraid, so afraid, that she would waiver, and that she would cheat
you out of the kind of life that she couldn't give you."

We were all quiet for a minute, and Travis reached into the box again, and
began to remove other things. There were some pictures of me in the
hospital, and I felt my heart break as he pulled out a small teddy bear,
with a green ribbon around its neck. My eyes watered as Travis handed it to
me, and then he took out a letter, still sealed. Across the front, in place
of a name, it just said, "My Child". I took it, feeling how fragile and
soft the paper was, watching the letter shake a little in my hand.

"She wanted you to have all of this, Jack, for the day when you came
looking for her," Travis said quietly. "She wanted to make sure that you
knew this, that you knew everything, because she knew that someday you
would come back. She wrote that the night you were born, and wanted me to
give it to you."

"Tell me the rest," I said quietly. Josh was rubbing my back as I gingerly
held the small bear in my hands, afraid of hurting it. She must have known
when I came back that I would be past the age for this, that I would have
long outgrown it, but she wanted me to have it anyway, wanted me to have
some small gift of love, no matter how late. I remembered the picture of me
in the hospital that had been in the other envelope, and how sad I had been
to see that there were no personal objects in it. Here was my object,
finally, right here in my hands. "Why do you have this box? What, what
happened to her?"

Travis sighed again. He might have waited for years to tell me this story,
but it still seemed as if it was as hard for him to do as it was for me to
hear it.

"She gave me this box the night before she was supposed to leave for
college," he said finally, looking at his hands. Josh and I looked at him
in surprise. "Yes, it all worked. She threw herself into school to escape
the rest of it, to stop herself from thinking about it, and she won her
scholarships. She was going, and she brought me this box because she was
afraid something might happen to her. She wanted me to hold onto it, for
safekeeping. I thought she was being foolish, but I humored her. I took the
box, gave her a hug, and gave her the gift I'd gotten her. It wasn't
anything big, a box of stationery and a book of stamps, and we said
goodbye, because she was supposed to leave.  And then, that night, there
was a fire."

"Oh, God," Josh breathed next to me. I'd figured this out already,
remembering the scorched foundation, the chimney leaning to the side, but
Josh, in his eternal optimism, hadn't allowed himself to think of anything
like that.

"They don't know what caused it, but the three of them, they didn't make it
out," Travis said sadly. "I'm sorry, Jack. The firemen found Nancy's mother
out in the yard, but she had succumbed to smoke inhalation. They found
Nancy in the house, with her father.  They think that she was trying to
pull him to safety, and, knowing her, I'd have to agree.  She pulled her
mother out, and went back in for her father. And that left me, here, with
the box."

Josh's arm had wrapped around me again, and he hugged me tightly as I
stared at the little bear in my hands and felt tears trickling slowly down
my cheeks.  Travis stood, and walked over to his door.

"I'll give you two a few minutes, ok?" he said. Josh nodded at him, and he
stepped out, closing the door behind him.

"Jack? Baby?" he asked, his arms cradling me as he leaned over my chair. He
was rocking me a little, his strong hands sliding lightly up and down my
back.  "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I think so," I answered. My eyes wouldn't stop leaking, but I could
breath. "I think so."

"I'm here for you, Jack," Josh said, his mouth near my neck. I felt his
lips brushing me as he spoke. "Let it out if you need to. I'm here."

"I'm ok," I said, pulling away from him a little. I looked down at the
letter in my hands, and his eyes followed mine. "I have this, you know,
really weird sense of deja vu, Josh.  Every time we go looking for my mom,
we end up crying somewhere with a letter from her."

We both smiled, and I turned it over and began very gently opening the
back.  Inside was only one piece of paper, and I carefully unfolded it,
taking in the graceful curves of the handwriting, the low, looping
curls. Josh and I read it together, his hands reaching out to take the
edges to steady it, because mine were shaking so much.

"To My Child:

If you're reading this, it means that I'm not here to tell you any of my
story. It means that you're hearing it from someone else, hopefully Travis,
and it means that this is the only time that you and I will speak, at least
in this life. As I write this, you are only hours old, but I haven't seen
you. I don't even know if you're a boy or a girl, but I want you to
understand something. It's not because I don't love you. It's because I
love you too much, and if I saw you, I might not be able to let you go.

I want you to have everything I do not. I don't want you to have to
struggle, or fight, or not know if you're going to have a next meal or
where it's going to come from. I want you to have a better life, and you
won't have that if you stay with me. I want you to see the world, and I
want you to be warm, and safe, and happy. I want you to grow up with
everything, so that you can be the best person you could ever possibly
be. I can't give you that, so I am giving you away. The chance to be who
you are, to be free of worry and pain, is the only gift I can give you.

I hope, as you read this, that you can understand. I hope that you can find
it in your heart to forgive me for this, that you can see that the
advantages outweighed my loss. I hope you grew up loved, and cared for, and
that you never felt the absence of a mother. I know that I will feel the
absence of you every day, but the thought that gets me through is knowing
that you're out there, somewhere, enjoying what I never could, and couldn't
give you.

Wherever I am, whatever has happened to me, please keep this is mind more
than anything else: I wanted, more than anything in the world, to be here
to meet you. I know that you will be beautiful, and special, and amazing,
and I wish I could be here to hold your hands, and hold you in my arms, and
see that person that you've become.  Wherever I am, I'm proud of you, and I
love you very, very much.

Your mother,

Nancy"

Josh held onto me as I folded the letter back up, and we carefully returned
everything to the box. My eyes were still leaking, but I was under
control. My mother had loved me. I was loved. I still felt sad, still
wished that I could have found her, but I also felt warm, and whole. This
didn't answer all of my questions, but it answered enough of them, and I
would be ok. Josh opened the door as I carried the box, and we found Travis
near the front of the house, where we had come in.

"Thank you," I said, shaking his hand. "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome," he said, squeezing my hand tightly. "I think Nancy would
have been proud of you, Jack. She would have seen the way you stand up for
what you believe in, and the way you fight to be who you are, and she would
have loved you for it."

"I hope so," I said, as Josh and I stepped onto the porch. "Travis, before
we go, could you tell us one more thing?"

"Of course," he said. "What is it?"

"Can you tell us how to get to the cemetery?" I asked. "And which one to go
to? Before we leave town, I'd like to say goodbye."

"Of course," he said, and he did.

Josh and I followed the directions, Andrew driving, and eventually found
ourselves standing before a large stone with all three of their names
engraved on it.  Below the names and dates was the inscription "Loving
Family".

"Travis paid for this," Josh said quietly. "He told me in the hall, when
you went to wash your face. He wanted to give them a proper resting place."

"He's a good person," I said absently, kneeling, running my fingers over
the dates.

"You ok?" Josh asked again, kneeling next to me. "You sounded a little, I
don't know, out of it."

I turned to Josh, and hugged him to me, holding him tightly.

"Yeah," I breathed. "I still have you, Josh. You're my family, the only one
I have. I love you, baby."

"I love you, too," Josh said, holding me. He knew what I was trying to say.
"You ready?"

"Yeah," I answered. "Let's go home."

***

To be continued.