“Follow the clues, listen to what Mark is trying to tell you” Mark’s mother told her. “Deal with things.” her therapist told her long ago. Chelsie placed the first box from the basement at her feet and stared down at it. She placed her hand on the lid, ready to explore the contents, and then stood up and started pacing the room. She hadn’t seen most of this stuff since Mark died and she was beginning to wonder if she was ready. She glanced down at the box again, giving it a little kick and headed for her bedroom.

First, Chelsie went to her night table and pulled out her jewellery box. She sat on the bed cross-legged and balanced the box in her lap. The first item she pulled out was Mark’s dog tag necklace. She had bought it for Mark after the show was done. One tag had Mark’s name and birth date engraved on it, the other – her name and birth date. Mark had worn it constantly after she gave it to him. He was wearing it when he was on the plane, tucking it into his pocket for safekeeping sometime after he found out the plane was going to crash. After the attendant had given it to her in the morgue, Chelsie had worn it everyday until she went into labour with Leilani. The nurse had removed all her jewellery and her mother must have made sure to put it in here for her.

Next was her engagement ring. Chelsie held it between her fingers, admiring the diamond and the simple, but beautiful design. Mark had to have known she’d love it. He always seemed to know what she would like. She placed it on her finger, wishing that Mark had been the one to put it there, gave it a kiss and then placed it back in it’s box. Her silver ring was there too. That was another item she had always worn until Leilani was born. Chelsie plucked it from its drawer and put it on her baby finger. It immediately felt comfortable and Chelsie decided to leave it on. There were miscellaneous pair of earrings and bracelets, some that Mark had bought her, most items she had before she met him.

In her dresser drawer were a few of Mark’s colorful t-shirts. In the days after his death, wearing them made Chelsie feel protected, she could still smell his scent on them and it made her feel close to him. Once she started to show, several months into her pregnancy, the shirts were comfortable because they were larger than anything she owned. Now, it was just what she wore for a sleep shirt, not really thinking anymore about how they belonged to Mark. She ran her hands over one, noting the frayed neckline and tiny holes in the shoulders. She really should throw them away, she thought, surprising herself.

The only other thing in the room that reminded her of Mark was the photo she kept on the bedside table. One of the other contestants had snapped a photo of Mark backstage, his headphones on, his face blank totally immersed in the music. Chelsie always loved that photo even though Mark didn’t and had kept hiding it on her. His bedside table had a photo of her, posing in her “Beautiful” dress, her half painted lips pouting at him. Chelsie pulled open the drawer and found it bare, everything cleaned out.

There was nothing else of Mark’s on the main floor, except some photos, and the backpack of course, but Chelsie wasn’t ready to tackle that quite yet. The basement was where everything was. Chelsie grinned to herself as she recalled her mother freaking out when she saw her lugging the boxes to the basement.

“Chelsie! Let me help you!” Her mother entered the apartment for her daily visit and cried out when she saw her daughter carry a large cardboard box around the kitchen. “What are you doing? You shouldn’t be trying to carry something like that in your condition!”

Chelsie grabbed at a shirt slung over a kitchen chair, one that had been hanging in that spot since Mark tossed it there before he left for New York. She stuffed it in the box and added it to the pile by the basement door.

“Mom, I’ve had it. I’ve got to get rid of Mark’s stuff.” With some difficulty Chelsie managed to kneel on the floor by the front closet. She took a few moments to catch her breath, before folding a box open and tossing Mark’s shoes into it.

“Chelsie, are you sure this is something you should be doing right now? You’re nine months pregnant. The baby could come at any…”

“Mother, I’ve sat around this place for months, crying my eyes out, thinking about him. I’ve got this baby to think about now.” Chelsie rubbed her swollen belly gently. “I don’t want our baby to come into a place of sadness. Lord knows I’m sad enough. I don’t want all this crap around to remind me of Mark every day and make it worse.”

Chelsie struggled to her feet, holding her belly and gasping. She leaned against the wall for a moment then began pulling sweatshirts and hats out of the closet, adding them to the box. She strained to reach the top shelf, searching for anything else Mark might have tucked up there. Her hand brushed against something and she wrapped her fingers around it, pulling it down to her.

“Oh!” Chelsie took one look at the item in her hand and dropped it to her feet as if it had burned her. It was Mark’s backpack. She burst into tears and her mother came over, leading her to the sofa to sit down.

“Oh honey, this is all too much for you. You shouldn’t be doing any of this. You’re going to upset yourself.” Her mother hugged her and tried to wipe her eyes. “How long have you been doing this?”

“This morning.” Chelsie mumbled. “I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“It’s alright.” Her mother soothed. “Just let it all out and forget it.”

“I can’t…I need…dammit. I miss him so much! I need him here with me.”

“I know, I know. I can’t imagine going through a pregnancy alone.”

“It’s not just being pregnant.” Chelsie sniffed. “I love…loved…him. Everything reminds me of him.”

“I’ll get your brothers to come and clean out Mark’s things.”

“I don’t want anything thrown away!” Chelsie pronounced fiercely. “I just can’t look at it anymore.”

“Honey, you don’t need his things, just let your brothers get rid of them.”

“No! The baby might want…something…when they’re older. Or maybe his family. I don’t want to just throw it all away.”

“Okay, alright, they won’t throw anything away. I promise. But you need to stop now, your heart is racing.”

“I’ve been having pains too.”

“Oh dear lord! How long, Chelsie?” Her mother felt her forehead, her stomach and her chest.

“Pretty much all day.” Chelsie moaned as a wave of pain washed over her. “They come and go.”

“We are going to the hospital young lady. You’re having a baby!”

Chelsie sat on the sofa, the box from the basement at her feet once more. She cracked the seal and peered in. Mark didn’t really have much with him at the apartment, some clothes, CD’s, shoes, grooming products. He never really had time to accumulate much. Chelsie had rented the apartment during her two weeks home after the show. Mark had returned to Hawaii for one week and then hit the talk show circuit. He stopped at the apartment briefly to drop some things off, and then they were both off to LA for tour rehearsals, after that the two month long tour. Mark had spent about one month total in the apartment, before his fateful trip to New York. Of course, neither one of them had planned for this apartment to be a permanent residence, just something to provide shelter until the craziness from the show died down and they could move to Hawaii knowing that they wouldn’t be travelling back and forth to the mainland as much. Chelsie sighed. She’d never considered moving after Leilani was born. The place was comfortable and just the right size for the two of them. And since Mark hadn’t spent much time there, she never really felt his presence…until lately.

The first box held some of his clothes. Chelsie carefully lifted each garment out of the box, remembering a moment they might have spent together while he was wearing the item, or recalling a dance he might have performed. In her haste to pack things away, she had just thrown things in the box, now she folded each item before tucking it away again. Setting the box aside, she went down to the basement to select another one.

Each box that she brought up contained personal items, but nothing that signified anything in particular or made her feel that this was what Mark wanted her to find. She found his shoes, CD collection, photos, more clothes, and his grooming products. Chelsie grabbed a bag and threw most of those away. She must have upended the drawers right into the box when she cleaned out the bathroom. Most of the bottles had leaked or were empty. Everything was sticky with shampoo, aftershave and cologne, the scents combining and making her slightly woozy.

After she had gone through every box, Chelsie repacked the items she didn’t want to keep and set the boxes by the door. She would take them to a charity where someone that needed them could use them. She placed Mark’s CD’s on the shelf and his photos in the cupboard where she kept the albums. Maybe she and Leilani could go through them when she got home. All she had left to go through was the backpack. Chelsie turned toward the closet and slumped back down on the sofa.

“Not tonight. I can’t. I’ve done a lot.” She convinced herself. “I’ll go through it tomorrow before Leilani gets home. I promise.”

She leaned back, turning the TV on and flipping through the channels. Finding nothing, she popped a DVD in and watched Mark dance with her, their smiles and un-choreographed touches letting everyone know how they felt about each other. This had always been Chelsie's favourite dance. The moment they were allowed to dance together once more.

“I got you back.” Mark could barely hide his excitement. He almost smiled and then, remembering the serious nature of the routine, held it back.

“I know.” Chelsie lifted her fingers, setting them down one by one on his shoulder.

They moved as one, not taking theirs eyes off each other. Chelsie gazed up at Mark as he lifted her, holding her almost upside down. Her grin broke through, delighted to be back in those comfortable arms once more. They broke apart only when the dance demanded it, her head leaning back onto his shoulder as soon as they joined as one again.

“I love you, Mark.”

He lifted her with one arm, carrying her to their final position on the stage, set her down like a piece of fine, porcelain and buried his face in her neck.

“I love you, Chelsie.”