Putting down the cup, Vincent gazed out at the dawning of the morning. People were stirring and the staff bustling to offer their services. He had intended to stay until tomorrow, but he was inclined to go home and do some thinking.
"I can scarcely remember her," he admitted tonelessly.
"Isn't that a good thing?"
He turned his head to stare at his friend, expression grim. "Is it? She made the supreme sacrifice by bringing my son into the world at the cost of her life. I owe her."
"What exactly do you owe her?" Jackson asked impatiently. "Not living for the past seven years? Do you really think she would have wanted that for you? And if that's the case, I would have to question whether or not she really loved you in the first place. You never asked her to make that sacrifice, and knowing you the way I do, that's not something you would have required. The bottom line is this: she's dead and you're alive. What's wrong with living your life and finding someone who makes you happy?"
"You don't understand," Vincent muttered as he stared into his cup of coffee.
"Then make me. Make me understand why it's so difficult for you to want to enjoy happiness. You obviously still care for this woman deeply. One would even venture to say you're in love with her-" Jackson's brow arched at the ominous look on his face. "Want to take a swing at me, do you?"
"It would be a criminal offense. I'm much younger and fitter."
"That's good. Try to divert me by attacking my vanity and my pride. But I'm still going to say this. You're deliberately torturing yourself over events that happened so many years ago. Ones you have no control over."
Vincent looked away, his expression bleak. "She should have told me."
"And you should have been smart enough to realize that you guys were more than just friends."
"If she had said something, things would have been different. We would have been together. God knows I don't regret my son, but..."
Understanding dawned and Jackson felt the sharp twinge of sympathy for the torment on his friend's face.
"You're thinking that if you had found out that she loved you back then, Lizzie would still be alive. You and Thea would be together and happily married. Instead, here you are, twisted up inside because you are thinking it and feeling guilty about loving this woman. And my friend, you do love her. That's another thing you feel guilty about."
"You missed your calling. You should have been a therapist," Vincent muttered.
"I wouldn't last two seconds. I'll stick to my paintings." Jackson sobered. "Now the question remains: what the hell are you going to do about it?"
*****
"You look much better," Jacklyn murmured in an undertone as they watched David race around the blue and white sitting room, mimicking a plane. He had been so happy to see his father that Vincent knew he had been right to come back early. He had started regaling him with stories of his grandparents Weathers and how much turkey and cookies he ate. He had been sure to add that he had saved some for him.
"I only ate one, Daddy," he added with a guilty look. "And gave the rest to Grandma Viola."
"You mean, she caught you and took the bag away from you."
He had nodded with a charming grin that reminded Vincent of himself when he was much younger.
"The trip did you good," Jacklyn observed.
"It did." His mother had requested refreshments to be served as soon as he arrived. He thought it prudent not to mention that he had gone on a drinking binge that had ended up with Jackson pouring him into bed. His eyes strayed over to where his son was showing his grandmother something on his train and speaking animatedly to get his point across. The boy looked so much like him that it was uncanny.
"I love him." He wasn't aware that he had spoken the words out loud until he saw his sister's curious glance.
"No one could ever doubt that."
"I would never regret having him in my life. And yet..."
"You regret the circumstances that brought him here," Jacklyn finished quietly.
"She never said anything to me. Why?"
His sister knew instinctively he wasn't referring to the woman who had borne him a son. "She didn't want to spoil the friendship."
Turning his head, he gave her a dry look. "Was that what she told you?"
