Brooklyn *Spot Conlon Love Story*

Chapter 39: Have I Not Suffered Enough?

For the record, raising a newborn is difficult. Jack was a good baby though. He had one fatal flaw. He was alone. He had no siblings, just me and Spot. Well, until I fixed that for him.

I am five months pregnant again, raising a three year old little boy, and married to my husband who I love more than anything in the whole world. I love him so much.

Tonight, Spot is working later than usual and I am preparing a meal of stew, peas, and mashed potatoes. I am having Jack, my brother, and Sarah over to eat. Sarah and Jack have moved past the death of Mary and are expecting again as well. They are fine now, but there will always be that aching part of them.

Kamden and Crutchy just had a son, a beautiful healthy little boy named Charlie, after Crutchy. They are also coming over to dinner. I can't wait to see them. Charlie is only about a year old in three days and he's precious.

The telephone has been invented and the first car. Spot and I invested in both, having enough money to do so comfortably, with me working two days a week and Spot working the other five. Spot loves the car and takes it to work everyday. He will join us later tonight when he gets home.

Race has a lovely wife. He met her at Sheepshead just after I left. Her Newsie name was Copper, but her real name is Eve. She's absolutely gorgeous and she has beautiful red hair and green eyes like his. They are expecting as well.

Finally, Davey. He married Flecks, but found out that she could not conceive. She was devastated that she could not provide that one simple thing to him, but he loves her. He tells her everyday how beautiful is and how much he loves her. I have never seen a love as strong as theirs. They are planning on adopting a son in a few months.

I rush around, preparing everything when Jack skips into the kitchen wearing Spot's Newsie hat. He is like a miniature Spot, the big steely blue eyes, the smile, the skin color, everything. And, I greatly relish it.

"Mama!" Jack greets me. The Newsie hat falls down, covering his eyes and I giggle, pulling it back up. "Mama, when will I be as big as Daddy?"

"I suppose when your Daddy's age, sweetheart," I tell him, putting a plate of mashed potatoes on the table. He smiles at this and sits at the table, idly kicking his legs.

"When will I be Daddy's age?" the three year old asks me. I do the math. He was born when I was nineteen, so Spot was twenty. Now that I'm twenty two, Spot is twenty three, making him twenty years older than Jack.

"In twenty years," I tell my son. He looks at me with wide eyes.

"Why do I have to wait so long, Mama?" he asks me. I shrug my shoulders.

"Because that's how it works, silly," I tell Jack, stirring the stew.

"But I want to be like Daddy!" Jack laughs, jumping down at the ringing of the doorbell. I stand and idly stir the stew, staring into space. Something feels horrible wrong in the pit of my stomach and I can't place the feeling.

"Are you okay, Jay?" Jack's voice asks from the entrance to the kitchen. I snap out of it and turn around.

"Huh?" I ask as a pounding headache comes on. I squeeze my eyes shut momentarily and then open them again, looking at my brother. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

"Okay," Jack says slowly. I nod and dish the stew into bowls for everybody who is coming. Meanwhile, Jack Jr. is playing with Sarah, who is joyfully playing with him. He was her saving grace after losing Mary. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I shrug the feeling off. Jack studies me and then, I reach for him. "Let me take your coat and hat."

Jack sheds the garments and I hang them up by the door. Then, another knock sounds and Race and Copper are outside. I reach for Race who engulfs me in a hug and kisses the top of my head. I smile and hug Copper as well.

I take their coats and hung them by Jack and Sarah's. Race pours wine and everyone laughs and talks in the kitchen as I greet Kamden, Charlie, and Crutchy. I hug Kamden for what seems to be twenty minutes and then, I hug Crutchy, receiving a kiss on the cheek. Then, I get to hold Charlie.

Everyone gathers around the table. The only person miss if is my husband. He would love this gathering of people. All of his best friends from his childhood. He would be the happiest man alive to have his wife, child, and best friends here in the same room.

I serve everybody and we all sit down. I look at the clock. 7:34. Spot should be home by now. I take another sip of the stew and look again. 7:35. The feeling returns into the pit of my stomach. Where is he?

Then, after dinner, Race begins a poker game (surprise, surprise) and I join in, knowing I could probably gamble away every dime to him in one round. I'm just trying to shed the awful feeling that keeps reoccurring.

My head is, quite obviously, not in the game and I end up losing pretty badly. Race doesn't tease me though. Instead, he grabs my arm and drags me out of the living room and commotion and takes me into the kitchen.

"It everythin' alright, Jay?" Race asks. I shrug my shoulders.

"I dunno, Race," I admit. He just stares at me, begging me to talk to him. I purse my lips and speak. "I've had this awful feelin'. Somethin's wrong, I jus...I dunno what."

"Is there anythin' I can do ta help?" Race asks. I sigh and manage a small smile at him. My best friend. I love him. He's the best friend I could've asked for.

He holds his arms open and I walk into them without hesitating. I lay my head on his chest and listen intently for his heartbeat, something I did with Spot. Every night, I would cuddle up next to him and listen to his heartbeat.

Race and I exit and join the others in the living room. Jack Jr. is showing Sarah a picture he drew. It's just a bunch of scribbles, but she acts like it's the best piece of artwork she's ever seen. This fills my son with joy.

I sit next to Jack and cuddle into him. He puts his arms around my shoulders, drawing me into him. My head and one rest on his chest and his lips meet my head. I smile meekly and close my eyes.

The distressed feeling hasn't gone away. If anything it's grown to the point where I just want to be alone. I wish it would go away so I could enjoy my precious time with my friends and family.

We decide to do desert because Sarah made a brilliant chocolate cake. I smile. If it's anything like her mother's cake, it's bound to be amazing.

I take out a knife and cut pieces, Jack Jr. ranting on and on about chocolate being his favorite kind of cake, which makes Sarah and I laugh. I serve everybody cake and sit down eating.

Where the hell is Spot? I turn and look at the clock. 8:53. He definitely should be home by now. This makes butterflies erupt in my stomach and not the good kind. I look up again. 8:54. I close my eyes slowly.

My eyes shoot open when the phone rings. I stand up, setting my fork down and reach for the phone. It feels heavy in my hand I press the button to accept the call. I wish like hell I hadn't.

Everything seems to move in slow motion. All feeling leaves my body, the color drains from my face. I can't cry. The tears just won't come due to shock. The phone slips out of my hand and if it hadn't had a chord on it, it would've shattered.

Then, the tears come. I slump to the ground, leaning against the wall and sobbing. I can't feel anger, I can't feel anything, but sadness that seeps out of every pore in my body and hurts.

How could this happen? How? And why would this happen to me? Have I not had my fill of horrible events in m life? Have I not suffered enough? All these questions fly through my head at once, but all I can do is sob.

The pain and hurt is like a metal hand clutching my heart and squeezing it as hard as it can. Squeezing until I can't get air into my lungs, until my heart bursts. Why me? The pain is overwhelming. How could this happen?

How could my husband be dead?

*A/N: Hi. Please don't kill me. :) *