Suddenly, after about five hours, she woke up with a strange  feeling. A terrifying message struck her: "You're alone with the kids."

She quickly got up and hurried to the living room.  She turned Larry over and gasped. He was blue.

She knelt there for a moment, not wanting  to believe this horror that was taking place.

CALL THE PARAMEDICS!

Soon they were there, and so were the police.  "It's too late," a concerned blue-uniformed paamedic said.  Larry had had a chemical reaction to alcohol. His esophagus had collapsed and he had asphyxiated on his own vomit.

Nancy turned and walked out of the room.  WHY DIDN'T I KNOW?  WHY DIDN'T I KNOW?  Guilty thoughts engulfed her.  She played the WHAT-IF game with her conscience.  She blamed herself for not realizing the seriousness of his condition.

HE WAS THIRTY-SIX YEARS OLD.  HE WAS ONLY THIRTY-SIX!

Nancy paced while the  paramedics put Larry's body into the ambulance. Her lips tightened as the vehicle drove away.

The  boys woke up at eight o'clock.  Their eyes narrowed in confusion as they walked into the living  room. "Where's Daddy?" one of them asked.

"Daddy died," his mother told him.  The words sounded strange, even to her.  DADDY DIED.  He was a good daddy and husband.  ALONE— AND ABOUT TO HAVE A BABY!  AND DADDY DIED!