Disclaimer: All of the characters and settings belong to Harper Lee!
A/N: The part in Mockingbird where Alexandra says something along the lines of "I've seen him when…" while she is talking how the Robinson case is tearing Atticus to pieces always sticks out to me, and for a while I've been trying to think about what low point she had seen her brother in and the only thing I could think about is the time after Jean died. Despite the fact that Alexandra is a complete b, I always have seen her and Atticus having a very close relationship (and it's kind of fun writing a "hidden soft side of Alexandra" piece).
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Wake up, gather the children, send them off to Calpurnia for breakfast, check on Atticus. Gather the children, get them dressed, set them up in the living room, check on Atticus. Drink a cup of coffee, gather the breakfast dishes, help Calpurnia wash them, make sure the children are alright, check on Atticus.
And so Alexandra Hancock's day began.
She had settled into this new routine only a week ago after the funeral was over and the guests left and Atticus was officially forced to begin his new life without his wife. Except, his way of beginning a new life was secluding himself in his study, sleeping minimally, eating close to nothing, not even moving—just sitting there and letting his grief consume him. It was unlike him, the man who was usually so strong and so composed, and no one knew what to do.
Before Jack left to go back to Nashville, he spent the better part of an hour in the study trying to talk to his brother, trying to get him to come out of the study. Alexandra knew his heart broke for his brother, but she wasn't quite sure that anyone would be able to understand what he was going through. But, he tried. Grief is acceptable, he had tried to explain to Atticus. Grief is normal. But, please, let us grieve with you.
It hadn't worked. As Jack left the study and brushed past Alexandra, she heard him murmuring: "I'm a physician, not a psychologist…I've tried my best."
Caroline had tried, too, but had been brasher than the youngest Finch, though she wasn't quite successful at it. The moment she had stepped into his study and saw him so distraught, she had dissolved into tears. Still, she demanded her older brother to remove himself from the study at once, to see his children, to take care of them and himself. "It's what Jean would want," she had said to Alexandra with tears in her eyes after Atticus simply did not respond to anything she had said. "He's always so logical, I don't understand why he just isn't thinkin'!"
Days have passed since then, though it felt like an eternity.
She took a different approach than her siblings. While she checked on him almost every ten minutes, she refused to speak, instead hoping that her constant presence would serve as a motivation for him to get up, for him to regain some sense of normalcy in his life.
But it didn't work. So, she continued on with her new daily routine.
Assist Calpurnia with feeding the children lunch, greet townspeople at the door bearing food and flowers and other things you bring when people die, inform them that Atticus isn't quite up to visitors yet, thank them for their generosity.
Check on Atticus.
Play with the children, despite the fact that there is a heavy sadness in Jeremy's eyes and Jean Louise had been irritable, wanting only her mother for the past two weeks. Letting her guard down, hold Jeremy close to her and tell him he must be strong, it's what mama would want. Later, she'd try to hold her niece close to her before she put the young girl down for her nap, but Jean Louise simply couldn't comprehend mama wasn't coming back and would cry herself to sleep. Then, she'd check on Atticus.
Check on Atticus.
Check on Atticus.
Check on Atticus.
Check on Atticus.
The pressure was enough to make her scream; she wanted to tell him that he couldn't act this way, that he needed get up and interact with his children and start to properly function under these new circumstances. She wanted to tell him that she was letting his grief consume him, letting it kill him and that it was almost like his children had no parents at all. But every time these thoughts crossed her mind, her heart broke ever so slightly.
He was depressed, and there was nothing she could do about it. Comforting words and warm embraces wouldn't be enough—he wanted his wife.
And no one could bring her back.
Her heart nearly stopped when she received a rare smile from Jeremy nearly two weeks after his mama had died. One afternoon Maudie had been kind enough to bring a hearty stew for them—saying something about how rich food was enough to settle an aching soul (Alexandra wasn't sure if she believed that)—and Alexandra decided that instead of just settling Jeremy in the parlor or in his room, she was going to have him assist her in making biscuits. For the first time in weeks they were going to eat dinner at the table like a family.
Even if Atticus wasn't there.
As she rolled out the dough on the kitchen table, Jeremy had giggled. At first she thought it was a muffled sob (he had been trying his best to hide his tears ever since the funeral), causing Alexandra to stop in his tracks.
Then she saw his smile.
It felt as though her heart was melting when she finally saw that familiar smile, and found that the only thing she could do was smile back at him.
"Mama used to make your biscuits," he stated matter-of-factly, and she grew fearful that he would once again become sad. "She used'ta make a lot of your food."
Alexandra didn't know how to respond. Guiltily, she had to admit that it had taken her a long time to warm up to Jean. Nearly a decade ago (had it really been that long?!) when Atticus first started to court her, Alexandra did not like her in the slightest. She was too young, too wild, and too different to carry the Finch name. While she certainly warmed up to the woman after Jean and Atticus got married, she never really connected to her sister-in-law in the way that Caroline had.
And that would be one of her biggest regrets.
Maybe that was why she stayed with her brother so long after Jean's death, to make up for the fact that she had never really liked Jean while she was living. Maybe if she stayed as long as she could helping her brother and his children it would compensate for the fact that she hadn't always been the kindest to Jean when she was living.
It didn't make her feel much better, though.
"What was your favorite thing your mama made you?" Alexandra asked, not quite sure how to hold a conversation with a six-year-old (she hadn't been the best mother, either), and was surprised to see Jeremy's face light up.
"She used to make bread look like bears," he informed her, his smile growing ever so slightly. "She would use fruit to make his face."
Alexandra smiled—Jean had always been creative. "Do you think you could teach me?" She asked warmly as he began helping her cut the biscuits into circles. "So I could make it for you like she did?"
She was scared that she had said the wrong thing, that asking him to do that would make him miss his mother more. Yet, his smile stayed. "Yes, ma'am." He replied.
He was coming back. Though there was still a hint of sadness in his eyes, he was once again becoming the cheerful boy he had always been.
And that's when she decided it was time for her brother to come back, too.
"If you don't get up out of this office and take care of yourself, I'm leavin'." She said matter-of-factly the next time she went to check on Atticus, just before they all were set to sit down to eat. He was still in his chair, looking at the portrait of Jean that had been sitting on his desk. Usually, when she checked on him she wouldn't say anything. She simply observed him and prayed that there was a shift in his mindset from the last time she had checked on him (though that never happened). She used to check if he needed anything, but soon gave up on that. He needed so much, yet would accept nothing. "Your children need you, too. You're not the only one who lost her."
He didn't say anything—he didn't even look at her. Her hands were shaking and she wanted to scream—she knew she didn't understand his grief, but this couldn't possibly be healthy; she knew it wasn't healthy. She swallowed back the bitter taste that lingered in her mouth. "I don't," she sighed. "I don't know how to help you."
She was beginning to believe that there was nothing she could do.
Fighting the urge to cry or shout out, she hurried out of Atticus' study and retrieved Jean Louise from her crib, and focused on getting the children ready for dinner. It would be the three of them, since Cal had to leave early that evening, but hopefully it would be enough to instill a sense of normalcy and routine back into Jem and Jean Louise's lives.
She tried to keep small talk while they ate, but she wasn't good at it with adults and soon discovered that she was much worse at attempting to chatter with children. Regardless, she tried, and she felt like that should be enough to make a difference. However, they all went silent as they heard the door to the office creak open. Alexandra held her breath until she heard the bathroom door shut and the shower begin to run.
He was coming back.