Free Where My Heart Belongs by Tracie Peterson Page A

have any, since he never gave me any. I suppose he figured friends might share some good fortune with me.
    “Anyway, one day he found the money I’d managed to save. I’d never seen him so mad. He accused me of everything from selling myself on the streets to getting money from home. I told him I was just saving it up for the baby’s needs. I reminded him the baby was due in just a few days and we had nothing for him. If welfare hadn’t been picking up the bill for the doctor and hospital, I wouldn’t have even had that much going for us.”
    “Couldn’t he understand that?” Kathy asked, her tone softened in compassion for the terror her sister had endured.
    “Mitch didn’t understand anything but blackjack and liquor. He was glad for the money but wasn’t about to let me get away with what I’d done.” Sunny gave a shudder. “The details aren’t important. He beat me—it seemed to go on for hours, although I was told afterward it was only a half hour or so. Neighbors heard and called the police. Mitch was still beating me when they arrived. He was in such a rage he didn’t even hear them knock. He didn’t realize they were there until they bashed in the door and pulled him off of me.” Sunny fell silent and slowly shook her head.
    Kathy couldn’t keep from asking, “What happened then?”
    “They called an ambulance. I was in pretty bad shape. Mitch had kicked me so hard he’d busted several ribs as well as my arm. I’d tried to protect the baby by blocking the blows, but it didn’t do any good. At the hospital they told me the baby had died. They gave me something to start my labor, and I delivered my son about ten hours later. They let me hold him.”
    Tears were streaming down Sunny’s face, and Kathy’s own eyes welled with emotion. To lose a parent was difficult, but to lose a baby . . . that was unthinkable. Without even considering what she was doing, Kathy reached out and took hold of Sunny’s hand.
    “He was perfect,” Sunny said. “He didn’t look dead—he just looked asleep. I sat there and rocked him for a long time.”
    “What did you name him?”
    Sunny smiled. “Gary. After Dad. He’s buried in Las Vegas. I visited the grave on my way here.”
    “What happened to your husband? Did he go to jail?”
    “Yeah. He was sentenced to ten years and got out in six. I have no idea where he went or what he’s doing. And I don’t care. My choice cost me the life of my son. It’s not something I can ever forget, but it is something I have to live with. Just like you have to live with your choices.”

S EVEN
    SUNSHINE REGRETTED HER LAST few words the minute they were out of her mouth. She’d never intended to bring it back to Kathy and her attitude. She had honestly thought that if Kathy knew that Sunny could own her poor choices, then maybe Kathy could recognize her own choices and feel less the victim. Instead, Sunny had clearly crossed a line.
    Kathy nearly knocked the kitchen chair over as she got to her feet. “I’m not hungry.”
    “Please don’t go. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”
    “I’m not mad. I have to take Dad his medicine,” Kathy said very coolly.
    “Look, why don’t you let me do it?” Sunny got to her feet. “I want to lighten your load.”
    “My load is just fine. I don’t need your help.” Kathy began pulling medicine from the cupboard.
    “Kathy, please try to understand,” Sunny began.
    Kathy turned around. “What I understand is that you have caused this family more than a little pain.” She seemed to struggle with her words. “I’m sorry about your baby. What happened . . . well . . . it’s awful. But this is something completely different.” Kathy whirled back around and gripped the counter. “I wish you’d never come back.”
    Sunny knew it would do little good to try and argue her point. She looked back for a moment at the table. Why should her sister’s rejection be any different from all the other times she’d been cast