Staggered, she stared, watching the woman she had always believed invincible sobbin
g as though the well of grief would never run dry.
Because of me, Ali thought as her own breath hitched. Because of me.
"Mama."
Laura's head shot up. She sprang off the bench, fought for control. Lost. Breaking, she sank down again, too tired, too bruised, too shattered to fight.
"I don't know what to do anymore. I just don't know what to do. I can't take anymore."
Panic, shame, emotions she didn't understand spurted so high so fast that Ali was across the bricks and wrapped around her mother before she'd thought to move. "I'm sorry, Mama. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Under the arch, Kayla gripped Michael's hand. "Mama's crying. Mama's crying so hard."
"I know." It destroyed him to see it, to hear it, to know there was nothing he could do to stop it. "It'll be all right, baby." He lifted Kayla up, let her press her face into his shoulder. "They just need to get it out, that's all. Let's leave them alone."
"I don't want her to cry." Kayla sniffled against him as he carried her away.
"Neither do I, but sometimes it helps."
She leaned back, sure that he would hold her. "Do you ever cry sometimes?"
"I do stupid man things instead. Say bad words, break things."
"Does it make you feel better?"
"Mostly."
"Can we go break something now?"
He grinned at her. Lord, what a character. "Sure. Let's go find something good to break. But I get to say all the bad words."
In the alcove, Laura held her daughter close, rocked her.
Comforting, as always, brought comfort. "It's all right, Ali. It's all right."
"Don't hate me."
"I could never hate you. No matter what." She tilted her daughter's tear-streaked face up. Her baby, she thought, swamped with love and guilt and sorrow. Her firstborn. Her treasure. "I love you. Allison, I love you so much, and nothing could ever change that."
"You stopped loving Daddy."
Laura's heart shuddered again. Why did it have to be so hard? "Yes, I did. But that's different, Ali. I know it's hard to understand, but it's so very different."
"I know why he went away." Ali struggled to steady her jaw. She had made her mother cry, and nothing, she knew, nothing she had ever done could be worse. "It was my fault."
"No." With firm hands, Laura cupped Ali's face. "No, it was not your fault."
"It was. He didn't like me. I tried to be good. I wanted to be. I wanted him to stay and to love us, but he didn't want me, so he went away."
Why hadn't she seen this? Laura wondered. Why hadn't the family counselor? Why hadn't anyone seen it? "Ali, that's not true. People get divorced. It's sad and it's sorry, but it happens. Your father and I got divorced because of him and because of me. You know I don't lie to you, Ali."
"Yes, you do."
Stunned, Laura jerked back. "Ali?"
"You don't lie, exactly, but you make excuses, and that's the same." She bit her lip, terrified that her mother would cry again. But she had to say it. "You always made excuses for him. You'd say he wanted to come to the recital, but he had an important meeting. He wanted to go with us to the movies, or the zoo, or anyplace, but he had work. But it wasn't true. He didn't want to go. He didn't want to go with me."