A cry of agony filled the bedroom, where Katherine lay on the sheets of the bed.

Her body shook with the tremors of labor, causing her muscles to constrict themselves and fill her with a fiery tension. The room felt painstakingly hot, with sweat lining every inch of her forehead. Her body felt numb, but the pain still remained.

Crutchie sat on one side of the bed, willing to help Katherine in whatever way he could. Katherine gripped a hand onto his, her other hand clasped firmly with Velma's.

"Come on, Mama," Velma's voice came reassuringly. "You can do this."

Veronica and Joseph were in the hallway outside of the bedroom, attempting to drown out the sounds of Katherine's anguish. They silently prayed that everything would be okay. Childbirth was always a risky thing, and they were worried that Jack wouldn't be the only parent they'd lose.

Katherine gave another cry of pain, her grip tightening on Crutchie's and Velma's hands as she pushed with the all the strength she could muster. Just as quickly as the pain had started, it ended. Katherine looked down, attempting to regather her breath and smiling at the sight of her baby, alive and healthy.

"I have another brother!" Velma expressed in joy, catching Katherine's attention.

The crying infant was placed on Katherine's chest, where she instantly brought her hands up to hold the baby carefully. A year loosely escaped her eye, but she blinked the others away and looked down at her newborn son. "If only your father were here..."

"He's going to come home, Kathy," Crutchie commented, looking down at Katherine with a faint smile. "What're you namin' him? You can't call him 'It' forever."

Katherine looked down at the face of the newborn, beginning to grow quiet and instead blinking drowsily up at his mother. "Jackson."

Velma smiled, reaching a hand out and running her fingers through the thin strands of hair, "That's perfect. Son of Jack."

<><><>

Katherine sat by the one day-old Jackson's bassinet, looking down at the picture in her hand. It had been cut out of a newspaper, left on her desk by Crutchie. She knew instantly what it was just by a single glance, not having to look down at the printed text beneath it to know what it was.

Santa Fe, November 1917

Katherine smiled lightly to herself, blinking away the tears in her eyes and turning to face the newborn in his bassinet. She ran her index finger down Jackson's cheek, feeling his tiny hand come up and grab her finger.

"I promise," Katherine whispered, "if your father comes home, we'll all leave for Santa Fe; we'll start a new life. We'll leave the pains of the past behind." She leaned forward, taking Jackson into her arms and holding him against her chest. "And maybe Uncle Crutchie can come along, too. How would you like that, Jackson?"

The baby cooed softly, unable to say or do much at such a young age.

"I'll take that as a yes."

<><><>

"Welcome back to work, Kathy," Crutchie said warmly, limping into the office.

Katherine held a finger up to her lips, pointing to the basket on the side of the desk where Jackson rested. "I finally got him to sleep."

"Ah," Crutchie said, his voice slightly quieter. "Anyways, we've got great news."

"We do?" Katherine asked, looking up hopefully.

Crutchie nodded, passing her a paper that had clearly just been printed by one of the reporters. "Mr. Wilson gave us Fourteen Points of why the war should end."

"Oh, thank God," Katherine mumbled, standing from her desk and reading through the paper. "You're right, this is great news!" She expressed her opinion a little louder than anticipated, causing Jackson to stir in his basket and begin to fuss. Katherine cursed herself quietly, hastily setting the paper on the desk and taking the one week-old Jackson into his arms. "Jack and the boys could be home before we know it," she said with a smile.

Crutchie nodded, leaning into his crutch. "France, the United Kingdom, and Italy haven't told 'im what they think, but if we're lucky it could be sooner rather than later."

"Keep your fingers crossed," Katherine said, gazing down at Jackson in her arms.

There was a short silence that followed, broken only by the occasional coo from Jackson. Tentatively, Crutchie asked a question, careful not to open a fresh wound, "And how are you holdin' up?"

"Better than expected," Katherine answered quietly, setting Jackson back into the basket and seating herself in her chair. She took the paper in her hands, gazing softly down at the text printed onto the parchment. "I'm just trying to be strong for Velma, Veronica, and Joseph."

"How are they?"

Katherine sighed, shrugging slightly. "I can never tell. Velma builds up these mental walls that I can't see past. Veronica and Joseph... I just can't tell how they're feeling. One moment, they're reassuring me, and the next moment, they're the ones needing the reassurance. It's just difficult, I suppose."

"And that's normal," Crutchie said, shifting against his crutch. "Just know that you'll have ta be there for them just as much as ya need them there for you."

<><><>

The Kelly family was seated in the parlor, attempting to warm themselves by the fire in the fireplace. The mood in the room was more uplifted than usual, all of them finding that the arrival of Jackson five months ago lifted their spirits and left them hopeful.

Jackson began to fuss at the sound of a clattering knock on the apartment door that signaled a telegram. Katherine shushed the infant, setting him gently in Veronica's arms and standing from the sofa. "Those are probably your transcripts from school. I'll get them."

Katherine opened the door, finding a young boy holding an envelope in his hand. "Katherine Kelly?" The boy asked, holding the letter out.

Katherine was perplexed. She thought the telegram would have been the children's transcripts, but they always arrived in three individual letters. Also, the letters never looked like this one did.

Then Katherine saw the wax seal on its front, and a grim feeling settled in her stomach: the seal was the American government's seal.

She took the letter with a shaking hand, silently praying that it was just the government saying the war had ended and Jack was coming home.

That all ended when she opened the telegram and read it:

May 29, 1918

     We deeply regret to inform you that Private Jack Kelly was killed in combat at Cantigny, France, 28th of May.

Sincerely,
United States War Office