The comfort Margaret Eppes conveyed on a young woman comes full circle and graces Don.
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Numb3rs or anything connected to it.
Alan Eppes greeted his guests one by one as they entered his back yard. He was having his traditional start-of-summer barbecue, and had invited every friend and family member he could think to invite. Charlie was busy in the house plating fresh fruits and salads, while Don's crew of David, Megan, and Colby had volunteered to grill.
Alan started in surprise as one guest came to shake his hand.
"Amanda!" Alan exclaimed, giving the tall, striking woman before him a brief hug.
"I haven't seen you since"- Alan paused. The last time he had seen her was four months before, at the funeral of her husband, Randy. His voice died in his throat, but he quickly recovered, smiling while he continued to talk.
"What have you been up to lately, and how is that young daughter of yours"? Alan asked.
"Well", Amanda replied, peering out of the corner of her eye to keep track of the 10-year old she had placed at a nearby table- and who was now slowly sliding under it, trying to make a clean getaway- "Shelby doesn't always stay where she is told to, but overall, she is a really good girl" Amanda said in a raised voice. Her daughter stopped sliding, and then looked over at her mom with a sour look on her face. Amanda smiled, letting Shelby know she wasn't fooled by her attempt to avoid doing as she was told.
"Shelby", Amanda told her daughter directly, "why don't you see if they need any help in the house".
Shelby frowned, threw her long black hair over her left shoulder, and then she stormed through the back door, rudely brushing by Alan.
"My, my", commented Alan, "She appears to be a bit, uh, temperamental".
"It isn't easy for her, you know, not having a dad and all. Since his death, I find it hard to be harsh with the discipline when I feel like I need to cherish every second I have with her".
Alan's expression became wistful, as he confirmed that he had the same problem being harsh when he dealt with his two sons.
"Since Margaret's death, Don has become more, uh, temperamental, too. He's never dealt with his mother's death- that is, the emotional affect that it had on him. He would rather shut down or argue, blocking out anyone and anything that might lead him to face the complete loss he had to have felt when she passed away."
"Well, Shelby is the same way. She refuses to talk about her dad- or anything else, for that matter. We went to several therapy sessions immediately after his death, but the counselor said that Shelby would talk when she was ready, so I might as well save my money and try again later. Now, it's been four months and she hasn't said a single word."
Just then, Charlie came out the back door, grumbling under his breath as he carried two trays full of fruit and placed them on a picnic table set up near the koi pond. As he started to enter the back door, Alan grabbed him by the arm and pulled him toward him and Amanda.
"What's wrong, Charlie"? inquired Alan, noticing the slumped shoulders of his youngest son.
"Don, Don, Don, of course", Charlie stated, emphasizing the word "Don" with a wave of his right hand each time he said it.
Alan looked at his son with a questioning look, waiting for him to continue.
Charlie brushed a lock of hair from his face, as he explained to his father-"He came in, threw down his coat, took off his shoes, and lay down on the couch. And all I did was ask him if he wanted a beer"- exasperation climbed down Charlie's face and settled there."And all he did was yell at me to leave him the quote HELL ALONE unquote."
Alan saw that Charlie was more than a little hurt by his brother's strong dismissal. He knew he would have to talk to Don later- much later, from the way Charlie described his mood. But for now, he wanted to make Charlie feel better.
"Charlie", Alan put his arm around his son's shoulder, "according to David, Don has been up for almost three days. He thinks Don has insomnia over the last case they had- something David said he did not care to think about or discuss, either. So, considering his lack of sleep- and lack of willingness to confide in his family- telling you to leave him alone was probably the closest he is going to get to confessing to anyone that he is having problems. And you're the only one he would feel even a little bit comfortable with confessing that to."
Charlie thought about what Alan had said. His dad's words made him feel better as he thought that maybe he was right- that it was Don's way of telling him he needed alone time and only Charlie would understand. At least, it felt better to believe his dad, though an aura of doubt followed him back into the house.
Alan leaned against the wall of the house, looking at Amanda with his own exasperation on his face.
"My wife was much better at handling the boys", Alan apologized to Amanda.
"You did real well", Amanda assured Alan, "but I have to admit, Margaret had a way about her." She reflected for a moment, then continued to reminisce. "I know she was only six, maybe seven years older than me, but she was more like a mother to me than a friend. My parents died when I was really young, so when Shelby came along, I wasn't sure what to do. But Margaret knew- she taught me all the basics- diaper changing, potty training, teething…"
Amanda stopped, looked down at the ground, sorrow filling her voice as she began to remember what an emptiness had been left in her life when Margaret Eppes had died.
"Margaret taught me much more than that, though- she taught me to hug my daughter every day, to spend time with her, to tell her stories about myself growing up, so she'd have many memories of me. And she taught Randy, too. I remember telling Margaret that Randy was having a hard time talking to Shelby- my daughter had to have been about five. When Randy would come home from work, he'd ask her what she did in school, she'd say 'had fun', and that was the extent of their conversation. I felt their relationship was stagnant."
Amanda closed her eyes as she began forming a mental image of her little daughter and her husband.
"After I talked to Margaret, she just walked right up to Randy, took him by the hand into Shelby's bedroom, sat him on her bed and had Shelby sit in front of him. Then she put a hairbrush in Randy's hand. At first, it seemed an odd thing to do, but after Randy spent a couple nights brushing Shelby's hair, I looked in on them and was surprised- and ecstatic- to see them talking the entire time that Randy pulled that brush through her hair. It was like each stroke was tightening a newfound bond between them."
Amanda opened her eyes and looked into Alan's.
"That was the ignition point for Randy and Shelby's relationship- after talking to her every night, he felt like he knew her better, so he was more confident in doing things with her, because he understood what she liked. And Margaret was always there, unobtrusively showing Randy different ways to keep the ties of his relationship with Shelby firmly knotted."
Tears now began to moisten Amanda's eyes, as they also moistened Alan's.
Amanda's voice began to crack slightly, "She even taught him the only lull-a-bye he ever learned- "Bye-o-Bye-o-Baby". He had asked Margaret whichlull-a-bye was her favorite, and after she told him, she was pleased when he insisted that he wanted to learn it. Randy was so proud when he finallymemorized all the words, he insisted on singing it to Shelby every night. It got so she wouldn't go to sleep without him singing that song…" Amanda hesitated, taking a couple quick breaths, "Since Randy's death, I have found her still awake in bed after midnight, like she's waiting for him."
With that statement, tears began to fill the small laugh lines around Alan's eyes.
"That's the lull-a-bye Margaret always sang to Donnie", Alan explained, wiping the tears from his eyes with the back of a handkerchief. "I haven't heard it since he was, oh, nine or ten. Charlie was always able to just slump down and sleep- Don needed his mother's singing to go to sleep until a time way past when most children do."
Amanda nodded in understanding.
"Margaret was so wonderful", Amanda told Alan, wiping tears of her own from her cheeks with a Kleenex from her purse. "Ihave oftenquestioned "Why?"- of all the people on earth- why her?"
Alan knew exactly what Amanda meant; his loving, kind, gentle wife- who had always given every last bit of herself- unhesitantly-to everybody else.
"You know what I thought the whole time she was ill"? Alan confessed to Amanda. He had never told anyone this before. "I kept thinking about that old hymn, "Will the Circle be Unbroken?" Everyone says if you do something good for someone else, it will come full circle back to you. As Margaret lay dying and I saw all the pain she was going through, I kept wondering why her circle was broken- why her good deeds of comfort and love did not come back and grace her."
Amanda looked at Alan,empathy gracing her eyes.
"When my husband died, my thoughts were pretty much the same as yours".
For the next two hours, Alan and Amandatalked quietly near the koi pond,as small lines ofcomfort twined between them.