Two years after Lizzy’s birth, Robby's mother lost a baby boy. Two years after that, she lost a girl. Robby grew more afraid with each pregnancy his mother wouldn't survive. He lived every day in fear he would come home from school to find her gone.

Mum sat on the edge of the bed. He had been watching her from the doorway. She sat rubbing her temples with shaking fingers but stopped when she saw him and forced a smile. "Come give Mum a hug, my birthday boy."

His face flushed. "I'm not a baby anymore, Mum. I'm thirteen now."

"You're still my baby," she smiled weakly. "You'll always be my baby."

He approached the bed, leaned down to hug her, and planted a kiss on her forehead. "Another headache, Mum?"

She’d been having headaches ever since Dad pushed her into the nail where Jesus used to hang. Jesus no longer hung there, and neither did the nail. The only thing left on the wall was the small hole and maybe a spot or two of dried blood, barely noticeable.

"I'm fine, son. It's just a headache," she sighed and shrugged. "Don't worry. The Good Lord doesn't want me, and the Devil doesn’t either, so I guess you're stuck with me."

"Please don't talk like that, Mum. I hate it when you talk like that."

She smiled wearily. "Can you get the aspirin for me, please? I think I need to take some before I even attempt to dress. And then you should start getting ready, too. It's a big day for you."

"Maybe you shouldn't go?"

Mum looked up with tired eyes. "You wouldn't be able to keep me away."

***

The church was too warm. Rob stuck a finger into his collar to loosen his tie, but it didn't help. He wanted nothing more than to escape from the pulpit and run as fast as he could down the aisle and out the front doors. But he knew that was not an option, so he thought he just might throw up instead.

He glanced nervously at his brothers. The trio seemed calm enough. Of course, they were. They had done this before the trio had become a quartet. Before his dad discovered his voice was high enough to sing soprano. It was a few weeks after he’d peed himself in front of them. Now that they knew, he was forced to practice at the piano every night after dinner until his voice came out a horse whisper. He wasn't even sure he wanted to sing.

Caleb smiled up at him from the piano. This made him feel a bit better. Even though he fought and argued with his brothers daily, and they all had the marks from Dad's belt to prove it, Rob knew they were all in this together. It brought a camaraderie to their relationship that they’d never known before.

Rob's eyes swept the congregation, and he saw Mum smiling widely at him. Ruthie sat between Mum and Dad, while Lizzy snuggled in her lap, her eyes heavy with sleep.

He returned her smile, then noticed his dad was smiling and even gave him a nod. Dad smiled. Dad encouraged him.

The nod was enough to help Rob stand straighter. When Caleb started the intro on the piano, Rob stepped up to the microphone and waited for his nod. Never in his life had he been so scared, his body trembled all over. He was afraid his voice was going to shake. He took a deep breath. When Caleb nodded to him, Robby closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and let the song flow out of him. His chest swelled with pride when he realized he could do this. If he kept his eyes closed, he could pretend he was in the living room practicing.

He made it through the song without incident. When he finished, he opened his eyes. His mother had a handkerchief to her eyes. She mouthed the words, I love you. Rob winked at her.

His eyes roamed to his father. Rob was shocked at what he saw.  His dad was on his feet, clapping. It was the music. Now he understood. It had always been the music. It was a link to his father's past that he never spoke of. It was Robby's stubbornness toward music that kept him out of his father's favor. He now realized that his father never hated him. His father had been ashamed of him. Now he was turning that around."

***

The house was dark and quiet when Rob arrived home from school. He was still on a high from the church service the day before and couldn't wait to talk it over with Mum again.

He called out to her as he pulled the screen door shut behind him. He tilted his head. No voices were coming from inside the house, no slam banging of pots and pans from the kitchen, no guitar or piano music from the living room.

Rob's heart dropped in his chest. Something was wrong. He knew it; he could feel it deep in his bones. It was as palpable as the large knot in his throat threatening to cut off his air.

He called out to his mother once again. Still, no answer.

Slowly, he made his way to the kitchen. It was empty and cleaned from this morning's breakfast.

He left the kitchen and entered the small hallway. He took the stairs two at a time to the top and searched every room. Mum and Dad's room was empty, as were the little girls. Jacob and Caleb were not home from school yet. Dad must still be at work.

Confusion clouded his thoughts as he raced back down the stairs and into the living room. The house had been dusted and vacuumed. The beds upstairs were all made, which meant Mum had been home all morning. So where was she now?

The screen door hit the side of the house harder than he intended as he threw it open and stepped out onto the porch. The breeze was cool on his face. It ruffled his hair and almost made him shiver. An awful feeling started to grow in the pit of his stomach.

He left the porch and walked partway down the dust and gravel drive. Glancing first one way, then the other, then back again, he hoped to catch a glimpse of Mum's old Volkswagen Beetle sputtering down the road.

He tilted his head to listen against the breeze. But he could hear nothing—only the wind. Even the birds in the trees were quiet.

Suddenly he could hear a car's engine coming down the road. He knew at once it wasn’t his mother's car, and he paid no attention to it at first. He only watched in the direction of the sound. The car was unrecognizable since the bright sun was reflecting off the windshield.

Rob's heart pounded as he squinted his eyes against the bright light. He watched the car pull into the drive. It rambled slowly toward the house and stopped just shy of the garage. A man Rob had never seen before got out and started toward him.

"Hello." The man was short, bald, and thick in the middle. He wore an old tweed suit with a brown and beige tie. He rubbed his red bulbous nose, then fiddled with his tie as he approached Rob and stuck out his hand. "Are you Caleb?" he asked.

Rob shook his head and swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. "No, sir," he answered softly. "I'm Rob."

The man nodded with understanding. "Ah, yes, you're the youngest boy. My name's Frank Ward. I work with your father. We're old friends. Carl is at the hospital. He told me to come by and pick you kids up. Are you all here?"

"Hospital?" Rob almost choked on the word. “Is my father dead?”

Mr. Ward shook his head and glanced down at his polished shoes. "No, sorry, I didn't mean to be so blunt. Are your brothers home yet?"

Rob narrowed his eyes as he shook his head.

"Do you mind if we wait inside? It's a little chilly out here."

His fingers were growing numb, and he walked as if in a daze to the screen door, holding it open for Mr. Ward. He couldn’t speak, so he only nodded his head at the strange man and followed him into the house.

He ushered the man into the living room and pointed to a chair. Mr. Ward eased his heavy bulk into the soft cushions and sighed heavily.

Rob's legs could no longer hold him, and he felt himself slowly sink onto the couch across from the man.

"Your dad called me right away," Mr. Ward was saying now. "Asked me if I'd come and get you kids. He didn't want to leave the hospital, you know."

Rob didn't know. He was pretty sure he didn't want to know either. He rose swiftly to his feet.

"Coffee?" he asked, quickly interrupting. "Or something else?"

"You got something else?" Mr. Ward asked sheepishly. "A little bit stronger?"

Rob turned and fled the room. Once in the kitchen, he opened the fridge and grabbed one of his dad's bottles of beer. He was pretty sure his dad wouldn't mind, seeing as how Mr. Ward was a friend of his.

Rob stood in front of the refrigerator for a moment, letting the coolness flow over him. He felt sick to his stomach. He wished his brothers would get home.

As if in answer to a desperate prayer, he heard Caleb and Jacob's footsteps on the wooden porch. He left the kitchen after opening the beer and hurried back to the living room. Handing the bottle to Mr. Ward, he nodded toward the front door.

"That's my two older brothers," he said. "That means Luke will be along shortly. The girls are probably with Mum."

At that comment, the man's face flamed, and he glanced down at his shoes again, clearing his throat. "Um, yes," he stammered. "Yes, they're with your father."

"My father?"

Rob's question went unanswered as his brothers entered the room. They laughed and shoved each other but stopped when they saw the stranger in the living room. Their eyebrows rose in unison, looking to Rob with a questioning glance. Rob only shrugged his shoulders and returned to the couch.

Mr. Ward took a long swallow from the bottle, set it down on his Mum's polished side table. Rob grabbed the bottle and placed a coaster under it. The furniture they had was not expensive or new, but it was all they had, and Rob knew Mum would have a fit if it left a ring.

"Hello, boys," Mr. Ward stood and held out his hand. "I was telling your brother, I’ve come to take you to the hospital where your dad is waiting.”

"Why's he at the hospital?" Jacob asked.

"Well, I can't say. Your dad called and told me where he was. He asked me to take you to him. That's all I know."

Rob's gut was telling him that wasn't all Mr. Ward knew, but he kept quiet.

"Will your other brother be home soon?"

Caleb nodded. "He was right behind us."

"Good," Mr. Ward nodded. He picked up the bottle and gulped it down greedily, then handed the empty to Rob. "Thank you, Rob," he said, then belched. "Excuse me. I guess we'll go as soon as he gets here."

***

The sharp odor of disinfectant assaulted his nose as soon as he stepped inside the doors leading to the emergency room. He squinted his eyes at the bright fluorescent lights.

Nurses in their whites and doctors in scrubs scurried back and forth like trapped mice. They spoke to no one, ignoring the anxious relatives as if they were invisible. Their only concern was for the patients that lay beyond the white curtains.

Rob could see the wrappings from bandages and gauze that had been torn open, the wrapping carelessly tossed on the floor. Drops of blood splattered the floor in some places, and Rob had to turn his eyes away to keep from getting sick, but the groans coming from behind the curtains still turned his stomach.

He let his eyes scan the room, searching for his dad and Mum and the two little girls. Rob didn't know why they were here, and Mr. Ward had been very quiet on the drive to the hospital, evading the many questions the boys threw at him. He hadn't even bothered to park the car and come into the hospital with them. He only dropped them off at the door with a quick, "Nice to meetcha." and drove away. The boys were left speechless. With hands in his pockets, it was Caleb who led the way through the double glass doors with Jacob, Luke, and Rob close on his heels.

Caleb approached the desk where the nurse sat, shuffling charts and answering the constantly ringing phone. She didn't bother to look up until he finally spoke to her.

"Excuse me, Miss," he said, exasperation in his voice.

The nurse was reading notations on a chart to someone on the other end of the phone. She pointed the pencil she had been taking notes with toward another set of glass doors.

When Caleb looked back at her with a questioning glance, she pointed the pencil to the doors again.

Rob shrugged and shouldered past his brothers. He didn't need a map. The sign hanging on the wall next to the set of doors read Waiting Room.

He spotted his dad as soon as he went through the doors. He was sitting on a couch, Ruthie and Lizzy on either side of him, their faces stained with tears. When they saw Rob, they climbed down from the couch and ran to him.

Rob stopped in his tracks. Kneeling, he caught the girls up in his arms. His eyes traveled to his father.

Carl's face was blank with shock. His eyes were looking right past Rob as if he didn't know he was there.

Rob started to feel dizzy and disoriented. He held tighter to the girls as if they could keep him balanced, afraid he would fall to the ground if he tried to stand. He held fast to the girls because he didn't want to see the truth in their faces. He didn't want to know.

Before his world collapsed entirely, Rob felt one of his brother’s hands under his arms, lifting him from his kneeling stance. His other brothers were lifting the girls into their arms and returning them to the couch. The atmosphere of the hospital grew surreal.

"Dad?" he heard Caleb ask, saw him slightly shake the old man's shoulder. "Dad, what happened?"

Carl's eyes were bleak as he focused them on his oldest son. The tears started flowing freely down his face. He opened his mouth, but a hoarse whisper was all that came out. Suddenly, a great sob left him, and he covered his face with his hands. "It's your…mother.”

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