On Sunday Ashleigh sat in Mrs. Jameson's kitchen with the other ladies. She'd come every single weekend since that first time she'd shown up hesitantly on the doorstep like a little stray kitten. Surprisingly, it wasn't out of a sense of duty. This family made her feel closer to Christopher in the sound of their accented voices, the stories they told about him, and the resemblance that they all bore to each other. And in turn, she began to learn and understand them. For instance, she found that they weren't just regulated to the kitchen to cook for the men. The kitchen was their gathering place. They drank their coffee or soda, had a slice of cake or pie and they talked about the happenings of the past week. They were funny, sweet and entertaining, and best of all they loved having a new person to tell their old stories to.Ashleigh was making the meatloaf as she listened to tales about the wildcats that sound like women screaming and ghost stories about people who had died but then b

Lance and Kendra called but understood when she explained that she didn't want company. They each told her that they loved her and after she hung up she finished the entire pizza that she had ordered. She intended to purge but didn't have to. Her system, unaccustomed to the deluge of junk food, made her sick on it's on. Afterwards Ashleigh climbed on the treadmill. She stared forward, not seeing the mounted television or the wall, only picturing the man that she had grown to love so much. She began to run and to think about Christopher. As soon as the alarm clock sounded on Wednesday morning, the first thing she did was to check her cell phone for messages. Nothing. She buried her head into her hands knowing that at some point soon an officer would go to Mrs. Jameson's house and inform her that her son had died in the line of duty. They would give her a letter signed by the President of the United States and then at his military funeral they would offer her a folded American flag…

Was she in a diabetic coma still? He paced, half scaring people in the terminal. Yeah, if it wasn't one thing then it was another; scars or bandages…When he boarded the next flight, he wished he'd taken the painkillers that Dr. Weitz had tried to give him. His face felt like someone had taken him by the back of his head and slammed him against a brick wall repeatedly. He'd eaten chicken soup as his in flight dinner since it didn't require him to move his sore jaw by chewing. He finally drifted off to sleep filled with guilt that something had happened to the woman he loved and he hadn't been there…again.Christopher called his mother as soon as he got to The Greater Cincinnati Airport terminal. "How's Ashleigh?""Son, she's awake and alert and waiting anxiously for you to get to her. The hospital has already released her. Her blood sugar level was good and her parents have taken her back to her house. You wait there and I'll send Butch over to get you-""No, I'm going to catch a

Christopher was anxious to get home. Besides, Ashleigh had no food in her house. He learned that she had pretty much moved into his place, a fact that he planned to make official just as soon as possible. Later they could decide about a bigger place in a nice neighborhood. He smiled at the thought of that. Seven months ago he had been sitting in his lonely home with not even the slightest inclination that he could know so much joy. Christopher unlocked the door and Maggie came rushing across the room. He laughed when she walked figure eights around his feet. "You missed me, girl?" He picked her up, not sure if she would be alarmed with his bandages. Evidently she recognized him by scent and sound and not by sight. He loved on her for a few minutes while Ashleigh watched. She knew that he was going to be the best dad. "I'm going to feed her," he announced. "Get changed and we'll go out for something to eat.""Alright, babe." She headed for the bedroom and quickly made the bed. Sh

"I don't want you to go to the gym today." Christopher said as he prepared Ashleigh's protein drink early Tuesday morning.She frowned. "Why? The doctor said that running on the treadmill won't hurt the baby and the exercise is going to be good for me."He felt himself smile at the mention of the baby. He wondered if he would do that for the next seven months. He already felt like a proud father. He grew serious as he poured the drink into a glass instead of a thermos."I'm not going to lie to you. The guys aren't going to be too happy with me. And I need to go and talk to them."She frowned in confusion. "Why? They were worried about you. They were going to help me find you." She accepted the offered beverage and relished its frothy goodness. Kiwi, strawberries…spinach? She wasn't quite sure. All she knew is that she missed his special concoctions.He began cleaning up. Yeah, they wanted to find him alright. They knew he'd come to them. If there was any doubt then they would have