She kept this to herself. The unselfishness that was her strong suit did not yield to the losses she now felt, real and imagined, first at the unbearable news of her daughter’s death, next that her husband might be drifting away as well. Lying in their bed, watching him pack, she reached deep for strength. To question him now was ill-advised; the timing was all wrong. It could wait, if still necessary, until his return.

She prayed he wouldn’t be gone long. Something, some inner voice, whispered time was becoming precious to her.

* * * * *

While he packed, Mac made light conversation with his wife. It turned serious when she suggested he take the boys. “Elizabeth,” he’d explained, “the boys asked to come, but I said no. They need to be here, with you. I don’t know what to expect when I get down there. The last thing I want to worry about is losing another child.”

The horrified look on Elizabeth’s face made Mac instantly regret what he’d just said. The only comfort he took was it brought an end to any argument on the issue of their sons going with him.

After the packing was done, Mac went over his itinerary with Elizabeth again, exhausting her in the process. They embraced, and said their good-byes then; he would not awaken her in the darkness. They agreed it was better that way.

Elizabeth was asleep in a few moments. Mac made sure the alarm was set before he settled in next to her. Thoughts swirled feverishly within his head. Sleep, if it came this night, would be far from peaceful. Resigned to a restless night, Mac turned his thoughts once again to the woman beside him and how it had begun for them twenty-seven years earlier.