She didn't fall asleep until five o'clock that morning, and Victoria lay awake and let her talk all night. And at six o'clock Jamie came in, and climbed into bed with them.

“Where's Daddy?” he asked, as he lay next to her, and Liz could feel her whole body shudder as he asked her. Was it possible he'd forgotten? Maybe it was so traumatic for him he'd repressed it.

“He died, sweetheart. A bad man shot him.”

“I know,” he said sensibly, looking up at her as they lay side by side in the bed that his father had slept in only a day before. “I mean now, where is he?” Jamie looked at her as though she were silly for thinking he'd forget, and she smiled sadly at him.

“He's at the funeral home, we're going there today. But he's really up in Heaven with God.” At least she hoped that was true and that everything she'd always believed was the way it happened. She hoped that he was happy and at peace, as she'd been told. But in her heart of hearts, she wasn't sure yet. She still wanted him back too much to entirely believe that.

“How can he be in two places?”

“His spirit, everything about him that we know and love, is in Heaven with God, and right here with us, in our hearts. His body is at the funeral home, kind of like he's sleeping.” Tears squeezed out of her eyes as she said it, and Jamie nodded, satisfied with her response.

“When will I see him again?”

“When we go to Heaven to be with him. Not till you're very, very old.”

“Why did the bad man shoot him?”

“Because he was very angry, and very crazy. He shot someone else too. And he killed himself, he won't come back here to hurt us.” She wondered if that was what he was thinking, and she wanted to allay his fears, whether or not he voiced them.

“Did Daddy do something bad to him?” It was a good question.

“Daddy did something that made him very angry, because the man had done some bad things to his wife. Daddy asked the judge to take away some money from him.”

“Did he shoot Daddy to get back his money?”

“Sort of.”

“Did he shoot the judge too?”

“No. He didn't.” Jamie nodded, mulling over what she'd said to him, and then he lay in bed next to her, just holding her close to him, and Victoria got up and went to take a shower. It was going to be a long day for all of them, and she wanted to get ready so she could help Liz in every way she could. It was going to be an unthinkably awful day for Liz and the children.

In the end, it was even worse than Victoria, or Liz, had expected. The entire family went to the funeral home, and they broke into sobs the moment they saw the casket. There were flowers standing next to it, and a spray of flowers on top of it, Liz had asked for white roses for him, and the smell of them was heavy in the room when they entered. And for a long time, there was only the sound of sobs, and finally Victoria and James took the children away, and led Liz's mother away with them, and Liz was left alone with the mahogany casket she had chosen for him, and the man she had loved for nearly twenty years resting inside it.

“How could this happen?” she whispered as she knelt next to him. “What am I going to do without you?” The tears streamed down her cheeks as she knelt on the worn carpet and rested a hand on the smooth wood. It was all so inconceivable, so unbearable, so much more than she had ever thought she could bear, except that now she had to. She had no choice. This was the hand that life had dealt her, and she had to live through it, if only for her children.

Victoria came to get her after a while, they went out to get something to eat, but Liz couldn't eat anything. The children were talking by then, and Peter teased the girls to cheer them up, and kept an eye on his mother as he sat next to Jamie and told him to eat his hamburger. They had all suddenly grown up overnight. It was as though Peter could no longer allow himself the luxury of being a teenager, but had become a man. Even the girls seemed more grown up suddenly, and Jamie less of a baby. They were all doing their best to be strong and be there for their mother and each other.

Carole drove the children home after they ate, and the others went back to the funeral home with Liz. And all afternoon people came to pay their respects, and cry, and comfort Liz, and chat with each other outside the funeral home. It was like an endless cocktail party, with tears, and no food, and Jack in the casket at the end of the room. Liz kept waiting for him to step out of it and tell them all it was a terrible joke and it had never happened. But it had, and it seemed to go on forever.

They went through a second day at the funeral home, and by then Liz was alternately numb and feeling hysterical, but outwardly she was extraordinarily composed, so much so that some people wondered if she was sedated. But she wasn't, she was just on autopilot, and doing what she had to.

Monday dawned with dazzling sunshine, and she went back to the funeral home before the funeral, to be alone with him. She had decided not to see him, and was agonized over it. She felt as though it was something she ought to do, but she knew she just couldn't. She didn't want to remember him that way. She had last seen him in the ambulance, and on their office floor, moments before he died, and that was agony enough to remember without adding further torture to it. More than anything, she was afraid that if she saw him, she couldn't stand it, and would lose her grip completely. She left quietly and drove home, and found the children waiting for her in the living room, with their uncles and their grandparents. Her mother was wearing a black suit, and the girls were wearing navy blue dresses their grandmother had bought them. Peter was wearing his first dark blue suit, that Jack had just gotten him a month before, and Jamie was wearing a blazer and gray flannels. Liz was wearing an old black dress Jack had liked and a black coat that Jean had borrowed for her on Sunday. They looked somber and respectable, and as they filed into the pew at St. Hilary's Church, Liz could hear people cry and blow their noses.

The service was beautiful and brief, the church was full, there were flowers everywhere, and afterwards it was all a blur to her. Jean and Carole had arranged for food at the house, and more than a hundred people came to eat and drink and tell her how sorry they were. And all Liz could think of was leaving him at the cemetery. She had left a single red rose on his casket for him, and then kissed the box, and walked away, holding Jamie's hand with Peter's arm around her. It was a moment of such blinding pain that she knew that never in her entire lifetime would she forget it.

She moved like a robot throughout the day, and two hours after everyone left, her brother-in-law caught a flight to Washington, her brother to New York, Jack's parents to Chicago. Victoria went home, but promised to drop by the next day, with the boys. Jean went home that night too, and her mother was leaving the next morning. And then she would be alone with her children, and have the rest of her life to live through without him.

When the children went to bed that night, finally, Liz and her mother sat in the living room. The Christmas tree was still there, drooping as badly as she felt, and her mother had tears in her eyes as she patted Liz's hand.

“I'm sorry this happened to you.” She had lost her own husband, Liz's father, ten years before, but he had been seventy-one and sick for a long time. She had had time to prepare for it, and her children had been grown and gone. It had been painful for her too, but nothing like this was for Liz, and she knew it. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered, as tears slid down her cheeks and Liz's once again. There was nothing else to say. They just sat in the living room and hugged each other for a long time, and for the first time since Jamie's birth, Liz remembered that she loved her, and forgave her for the things she had said then. In a terrible way, this agonizing loss had brought them a kind of healing, and if nothing else, Liz was grateful for it.

“Thanks, Mom. Can I make you a cup of tea?” she asked finally, and they went out to the kitchen together. And as they drank tea at the kitchen table, her mother asked her again if she was going to sell the house and Liz smiled. This time it didn't bother her as much. It was just her mother's way of saying she was worried about her and wanted to know if she'd be okay. She had finally figured out that she wanted Liz to reassure her.

“I don't know what I'm going to do, but we'll be fine.” They had put aside enough money over the years, and Jack had a healthy insurance policy. And of course she had the law practice to support them. Money wasn't the issue now so much as learning to live without him. “I don't want to make any big changes for the kids.”

“Do you think you'll remarry?” It was a silly question, but Liz smiled, thinking of what Victoria had said. “If China declares war on us …”

“I don't think so. I can't imagine it, Mom.” And then tears filled her eyes again. “I don't know how I'm going to live without him.”

“You have to. For the children. They're going to need you more than ever. Maybe you should take some time off from work, close the office for awhile.” But she couldn't afford to take time off, and she knew it. Their entire caseload was now resting exclusively on her shoulders. Except for Amanda Parker. Just thinking of her made Liz ache for her children and what they had been through that day. They had lost both a mother and a father. She had called the house and spoken to Amanda's sister that afternoon and told her how sorry she was. They had both cried, and the Parker family had sent her and the children flowers.

“I can't close the office, Mom. I have a responsibility to our clients.”