The Jamie Series #10

Memorium.

by Gillian

Blair buttoned Jamie's shoulder strap with a tweak and stood back to admire the effect. The dark blue corduroy overall with its teddy bear appliqué covered a lighter blue t-shirt. Sturdy hiking boots were laced firmly and Blair topped it all off with a blue cap, which Jamie immediately tugged off.

"I don't know why you bother," Jim said, wiping the last of the kitchen counters efficiently. "He is never going to willingly wear a hat."

"But it's so darn cute," Blair said forlornly, picking up the cap and admiring the teddy on the brim that matched the ones on the overall bib. He put the tiny hat on his own head and posed for his son. "See? Blair's wearing it."

Jamie laughed and snatched at the cap. Blair tilted his head and let it fall so that the toddler could pick it up and put it on his head.

"Reverse psychology," Blair said smugly, straightening the cap into place.

"Nope, just Jamie messin' with your head," Jim corrected as the child in question plucked off the hat and offered it back to his father.

"Hat," he stated.

Jim took it from Jamie's hand and sat it back on Blair's head. "Suits you better anyway," he remarked.

Blair glowered for a moment and then chuckled. The cap slid back and caught for a moment on his tightly bunched ponytail before dropping to the floor.

"I don't know why I bother either."

Jim plucked three coats from the metal hooks by the door, handing Blair two and shrugging into his. Then he assisted Jamie into his coat and buttoned it up.

"Are you ready for this?" Jim asked Blair seriously and the younger man sobered, nodding.

"As I'll ever be."

It was a long drive to the cemetery and the Sandburg-Ellison family rode in silence. Blair looked out at the beautiful April day, thinking back over the last year. It had been a good one, although not without its bad moments. They had worked through their troubles, organized their hectic schedules, made new friends and strengthened old ties. It was sometimes difficult to believe that this had all begun in war and death, but today was a day to remember that, and to count their blessings.

"Let's stop for flowers," Blair suggested as they passed a road-side seller. They bought two bunches of flowers and as they were paying Blair spotted a tiny posy of violets. The purple and lilac flowers rested on a bed of dark waxy leaves. On impulse he bought that too, and once in the car he handed it to Jamie.

"He'll probably eat it," Jim predicted.

"Flowers, Jamie," Blair said, stroking the bunch.

Jamie lifted them to his nose and sniffed loudly. "Pretty," he pronounced.

Jim turned into the wide gates and navigated the car through the quiet roads of the cemetery, finally turning and pulling into a space. Solemnly the little family piled out of the car and negotiated the quiet paths, Jamie high in Jim's arms. Blair held tightly to Jim's hand.

The toddler seemed to sense the somber mood and didn't chatter away in his usual unintelligible gibberish. Instead he looked around at the graceful green rolling lawns, dotted with white headstones. Somewhere in the distance a motor mower was droning away and he turned to look for it.

Blair stopped short as he reached a rise on the path. Two people sat on a carved stone bench by a white head stone. A broad shouldered older man held the hand of a lady with graying fair hair. She was dabbing her eyes and he was patting her hand gently.

Reluctant to intrude, Blair considered leaving but the man looked up at that moment and spotted them. He bent and whispered something to the lady who looked over at them.

"Blair," she called. "Please, do come over."

Blair exchanged a quick glance with Jim before releasing his hand and heading down the shallow rise.

"Sarah, Harry." Blair shook Harry's hand and then took Sarah's and held it for a moment. "We're sorry to intrude."

"Not at all," Sarah insisted, wiping at her eyes again. "It's good of you to come."

She looked over to the white marble head stone where her son's name was carved deeply against the ravages of time. "I know that he's not really here, that it's just a stone marking an empty grave, but I feel him in this place just the same."

Blair nodded his understanding, laying his bunch of flowers down with the ones already laying on the green grass. He sighed and closed his eyes against the neat grassy lawns, seeing in his minds eye the smiling face of his friend. Just for a moment he rested his hand on the sun warmed stone, tracing the dates that marked the short passage of Andy's life. One year had passed to the day since that life ended.

Next to him Jim crouched and laid his own offering down, the rose petals mingling with Blair's carnations.

Blair reached for Jamie's small bunch but the toddler would have none of it. "Flowers," he said, holding the bunch fiercely. "Pretty."

"Is this the baby you told me about, Blair?" Sarah asked as Blair frowned into his son's stubborn face.

"Yes," he rose and lifted Jamie, flowers and all, from Jim's arms. "This is Jamie."

Sarah studied the child in Blair's arms with sad eyes. "He's beautiful," she said wistfully. She held out her hands. "May I?"

Jamie made up his own mind about that, leaning forward and almost launching himself from Blair's grasp into Sarah's.

"Oh," she said in surprise as she deftly caught him. "He's so strong!"

"Careful, Jamie," Blair admonished, tugging down the leg of the baby's overalls which had risen up to reveal his white sock. "Don't be so rough."

"He's fine," Sarah smiled a little into wide brown eyes. "What a sturdy fellow you are." She straightened a shiny lock of hair on his forehead. The sad look crept into her eyes again and Blair shot a worried look at Harry.

His hand was on his wife's shoulder and his face reflected his worry as he gazed at the picture she made with little Jamie on her lap.

Jamie, sensitive as always to the moods around him, patted one of her powdered cheeks. "Flowers," he pronounced. With a wide smile he offered her his ragged posy. "Pretty."

Tears sprung into Sarah's eyes as she accepted the bunch. "Yes, they are," she agreed in faltering tones. "Very pretty indeed."

One tear spilled and rolled down her cheek.

"Oh, Sarah," Harry said in concern, but Jamie was already clambering up on her lap. "Hugs," he offered, wrapping little arms around her neck.

Blair felt tears fill his own eyes as Sarah wept for her lost son in his son's arms. A hand took his own and he turned and looked at Jim who was gazing back at him with love and concern.

After just a few moments Sarah regained control of herself and drew back, wiping the dampness from her cheeks with her free hand.

"What a lovely boy you are," she said to Jamie, producing a watery smile. "Aren't you? A good boy."

"Yes," Jamie agreed, nodding emphatically. The group chuckled a little at the tiny boy's certainty.

"Blair, Jim." Sarah swept them a look filled with apology and gratitude. "You're both very lucky."

"We know," Jim agreed, tousling his son's silken locks.

"Sarah, I think it's time to go home, hmm?" Harry suggested, and his wife nodded.

"Oh, please don't let us drive you away," Blair protested, but Sarah shushed him, still cradling Jamie on her knee.

"You're not," she told him firmly. "It's time to go." She kissed both of Jamie's round cheeks and then the end of his snub nose. "I hope to see you again soon, little man," she said, gazing into his face. Then she stood and handed him to Jim.

"Don't be a stranger," she admonished him huskily, and then she accepted her husband's arm and walked steadily away, still holding the posy of flowers.

Hand in hand, Jim and Blair stood for a few moments more in the April sun, Jamie with his head on his father's shoulder, listening to the drone of the bees and the distant whine of the motor mower. Then they slowly made their way back to the car.

The End.

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