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Chelle had to brace herself to read it again. She’d already read it several times and every time she had, she cried for Shade. She cried for Cecelia Bennett.
She cried for Julian Bennett, too. The little boy lost.
“I’m going to do my best to get through it without stopping, but if you need me to stop, tell me.”
He didn’t answer, only continued to stare at the screen.
She started with the headline of the article and began to read. She did it slowly, which allowed him to follow along if he wanted to and, if not, it made it easier for him to process the words as she read.
Cecelia Bennett had been originally found as a Jane Doe in an alley in Newark, New Jersey. She had track marks in her arms, her legs, in the webbing of her fingers and in between her toes. She’d been found with both recent and old bruises. Her cause of death was a heroin overdose.
Once she was identified by her dental records, law enforcement pieced together that she was the young mother who’d disappeared from a shopping mall with no sign of her, her four-year-old son Julian Bennett, or even their vehicle. Her empty minivan was discovered much later at the bottom of a nearby lake.
The article went on to say no family ever came forward to claim her body, so a Newark funeral home cremated her and put her ashes in the storage closet where they kept unclaimed cremains.
The last paragraph stated her son was never found and was presumed dead. Records showed Cecelia Bennett never married and no father was listed on Julian’s birth certificate.
While he hadn’t stopped her from reading, he also hadn’t made a sound, not even a noise. She wiped away the single tear that had slipped from her eye before turning to face him. His eyelids were shut tightly and his fingertips dug deep into his thighs.
“You okay?”
“Yeah... No.” He shook his head. “Don’t know.”
She placed her hand over his and squeezed. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not sure.”
“There’s a phone number at the bottom of the article for anyone who knows anything about her death, the abduction or Julian’s whereabouts.” She watched his face carefully when she asked, “Do you want to come forward?”
His jaw worked for a few seconds. When he finally twisted his head, his almost black eyes hit hers. “No. That life is over. This is my life now.”
“You might have relatives...”
“That life’s over, Chelle.”
She nodded, but wasn’t sure how true that was.
Over or not, she wasn’t done yet. “This bad news wasn’t your present, Shade. Because that would really suck for a Christmas gift.”
“Wouldn’t know.”
“Trust me.”
“Always,” he answered instantly and automatically, like he always did when she said those two words. The first time she ever told him to trust her, he had quickly answered with “always,” catching her off guard. While the saying became a habit with having kids, she never thought anyone took it literally.
Shade did.
“I called the funeral home.” She released his hand and closed her laptop. “I filled out the paperwork to claim her ashes and I paid for her cremation so they’d release them.” She got to her feet, feeling his eyes following her as she moved across their bedroom to her closet. One he never used since he had his own. “They shipped them to me.”
She slid open the closet door and grabbed what she had hidden behind a few boxes of shoes. When she turned, his gaze dropped from her face to what she held in her hands. An urn.
Not just any urn. She had picked a pretty red and gold metal one. A gold pendant hung around the neck of it, engraved with his mother’s name and the dates of her birth and death.
“Bet they don’t put unclaimed ashes in somethin’ like that.”
“No,” was all she said.
His mother deserved something nice after all the ugly she’d experienced. Even if it was after her death. Shade could keep her ashes or spread them, it was up to him.
It might not be a traditional Christmas gift, but at least in some way, she had finally reunited mother and son.
It had been a long, painful twenty-six years apart.
“I only wish the reunion with your mother had gone differently.”
“Chelle.” He got to his feet and came to her. “Don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.”
“Didn’t get you a present.”
“I got what I wanted already. I have you. I have Jude. My girls are healthy and happy. I don’t need anything else.”
“Will get you a kitten.”
She smiled. “I think Jude would rather have a dog.”
“Jude will get a dog, you’ll get your kitten.”
“After the holidays, we’ll go to the Humane Society and pick out one of each. A lot of them are dumped around Christmas. Older dogs beforehand to make room for a new puppy, puppies afterward for being too much work.” He didn’t need that lecture right now or even at all. He’d never give up on something or someone he loved. He hadn’t felt love since he was four and not again until recently, so he knew how priceless it was. She lifted the urn. “Where do you want her?”
