Heroic Measures (continued)

He could sense Abigail studying him. He felt that he should look up at her. He did not dare, certain that his eyes would betray him and then she would know.

After a moment, Walter heard her leave and return to the kitchen. He let out a slow, quiet breath. Not for the first time, he envied his Catholic acquaintances. Like them, he could attend confession, seek forgiveness, and hopefully be purged of these inappropriate thoughts.

You're not in high school any more, Walter.

The silent scolding served only as a minor and momentary distraction. It was too easy to remember those days, especially when looking into those eyes. They had not yet witnessed many of things that he had seen.

Maybe that's all it is . . . I just want to protect her.

The rationalization helped only a little. He found it curious, though, that thoughts of her, although they stirred strong feelings within him, did not bring arousal.

What did that mean? he wondered.

It was a new sensation for him to harbor those types of feelings for someone without some deeper urge. Yet, he realized, it was not the same kind of emotions he felt for close family members.

Abigail placed a hand gently on his shoulder. She said nothing for a long moment and then pulled a chair closer and sat down. Taking his hands in her, she stared into his eyes.

They bore a grave concern and Walter felt guilty for putting her through this.

“Walter,” she said softly, squeezing his hands ever so gently. “I know it wasn’t easy for you, but I have to ask.”

Walter met her eyes. He shook his head slightly to indicate his lack of understanding.

“Our children,” she whispered. “What about our children?”

Walter frowned and then glanced at the door where Jeremy slept.

“Jerry should be fine,” he said. “I don’t Dr. Raynes would have let us go if he thought we might still be dangerous.”

Abigail nodded and gave Walter a small smile.

“That’s not what I meant, my sweet love.”

Walter stared at her, still not grasping what she meant. He watched her swallow and then her lips moved, but it was a moment before she spoke.

“The next ones,” she said. “Will they be okay? Or will they be . . . different?”

Realization blossomed in Walter’s mind. He felt some relief that he knew the answer.

“Dr. Raynes doesn’t think so.”

Abigail visibly relaxed.

“But he doesn’t know for sure?”

“There’s no way to know for sure without testing.”

Abigail gave him a quizzical look. Walter found himself annoyed. He had been through enough today without getting drawn into a technical discussion about radiation-induced birth defects.

“You know,” he said, waving a hand in the direction of his groin. “Testing.”

Abigail’s eyes followed the motion of his hand. Her eyes widened and she lifted a hand to cover her mouth. She did not look shocked. Instead, her eyes grew bright.

Walter stared at her, feeling his cheek begin to burn. An instant later, he began to giggle.

A surprisingly unladylike noise issued from behind Abigail’s hand. It fell away and Walter could see her grin, and then she succumbed to outright laughter.

Walter joined her.

It was light-hearted at first, embarrassed amusement at his own awkwardness. Within moments, it grew into deep-rooted belly laugh that brought them both to tears. It was exactly the catharsis that they both needed after the toll the day had taken on them both.

Walter hugged Abigail closed, gasping against the remnants of his laughter to find breath. Abigail pressed close against him. Her chest convulsively pleasantly against him as she also fought to regain control. He stroked her hair, taking in the familiar scent of her. He placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head and then turned her face to his.

He stared into her eyes and saw no one else. Her eyes burned with life and humor and he kissed her.

It was not a long kiss, but it reminded Walter of every reason that he loved Abigail. She looked up at him and smiled. Walter would see the happiness in her eyes. He bent to kiss her again.

When they parted, but just barely, he whispered to her, "Maybe we should test it out now."

Abigail's eyes widened, her expression masked by a playful coyness.

"Walter," she laughed. "The dishes . . ."

"Can wait."

Abigail just smiled, keeping her eyes on Walter's. He smiled in return and lead her firmly away from the kitchen.

Sometime later, Walter rested drowsily. Abigail was snuggled against him, one arm draped across his chest. She breathed softly, sleeping lightly.

Walter smiled and closed his eyes. The only face he saw was hers. There might come a time when that might not be so, but for tonight he was content.