by Ann Dennis

Created on: October 27, 2008

From the Files of Joseph McRea

The beginning

He stepped into the white sterile room. She was as white as the sheet that covered her. He held her while she cried. He let her hold him while he grieved for the child they would never have. The pain ripped through them both.

He wouldn't let her return to the house. He found a new home and had some of their basic furniture and personal stuff moved.

She was angry when he showed her the refurbished farmhouse he'd bought in the quiet country side.

The rest of their problems began the first night they slept in the new (old) house.

"It's windy," she murmured.

"Storm coming," he answered, pulling her closer. He knew she didn't like storms.

"I'm ok," she squirmed to make him loosen his arms around her.

She had done that more and more since coming home from the hospital. He'd noticed and resolved not to mention it. He was hoping that it would change with time.

The wind blew tree branches against the house. They could hear the clump and scraaatch as the tree swayed. The thunder made them both jump and he took the opportunity to pull her close again. It was several minutes before the sound of hesitant drops began to fall. Then more drops fell and soon the rain began falling in torrents and swished to add to the scratch and rattle of the tree.

Soon he felt her body relax and her hand settled on his chest over his heart. "I like cuddling with you. You make me feel warm and safe."

"I'm right here, baby," he murmured into her light blond hair.

They slowly drifted towards sleep with the rain pounding on the roof and the wind blowing large heavy drops against the window.

He found himself standing beside their bed. He shook his head to clear the sleep and heard the baby's wails. She was scrambling across the floor and he followed.
In the hall, he headed for the front door. They didn't have a baby. The pain of loss shot through him again and he gasped and rubbed his hand across his chest. So there had to be a child outside. He didn't realize she wasn't behind him until he reached the door. He hesitated and looked back. She was up the stairs and calling to him. He turned and opened the door.

The woman in the door held out her hands in supplication and cried in a deep pain only a mother that has lost a child could understand. Her body was drenched from the storm.
"Where's my baby?" She screamed.

He shuddered and reached out to draw the woman inside out of the rain and saw her disappear right in front of his eyes. He shuddered in shock, drew back,

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