A/N: See Chapter 1 for Disclaimer.
Chapter 3: Jessie's Visit
Over the next several weeks, Natalie tried in vain to convince Jo to, at the very least, discuss the situation with Mrs. Polniaczek. Naturally, though, Jo was as stubborn as ever and she utterly refused to back down. Although she and Natalie even got into a few shouting matches over it, she dug her heels in and simply would not change her mind. Of course, Natalie considered just ratting Jo out to Mrs. Polniaczek or Mrs. Garrett anyway, but she was afraid of what would happen if she did anything to upset Jo too much, given her heart condition. Even their heated arguments about the subject worried her terribly. It deeply frightened Natalie whenever they fought about it and Jo got angry and started yelling; when that happened, Natalie was terrified that the additional stress would only make Jo's condition worse.
Finally, one Tuesday afternoon in mid-March, less than a week before all the faculty and students at Eastland were scheduled to go home for spring break, Natalie's best friend Tootie couldn't stand all the obvious tension between her and Jo any longer and she began prying the truth out of her.
"Natalie, I know I've asked you this a million times before over the past few weeks, but I'm asking again, and this time, I want a straight answer. I am not leaving this room until you talk to me," Tootie informed Natalie as she stood in front of her with her arms folded across her chest. They were alone together in their room while Blair was downstairs on the phone in the lounge, talking to her boyfriend from Bates, and Jo was out on her bike, only God knew where. "What is going on between you and Jo?" Tootie persisted. "Neither one of you have been your usual selves for weeks, and the two of you won't talk to anybody about it. Not to me. Not to Mrs. Garrett. Not to anyone. But we all know that something's going on between you two; we all know that something's wrong. And I want to know what it is. You have to tell me."
"Tootie, you don't understand. I mean…you're right about me and Jo. There is something going on, and I have officially been sworn to secrecy. There are reasons why I can't tell you about everything. Important reasons."
"Nat, I'm very worried about you and Jo. If something's wrong in your life or Jo's, don't you think I have a right to know?"
Natalie let out a very frustrated sigh, rolled her eyes, and angrily told her, "No, Tootie, you don't have an automatic right to know about every tiny detail of a person's private life! Sooner or later, you're going to have to grow up and realize that there are some things in other people's lives that simply aren't any of your business!"
"I didn't mean it like that. I know that this secret between you and Jo isn't gossip. I know that whatever it is that's going on between you guys, it's something really serious, and I'm worried about both of you. I know I've earned my reputation as a nosey gossip at Eastland, but I don't want to gossip about you and Jo now. I just want to be a good friend. I want to know what's going on so that maybe I can help."
Natalie sighed once again, and she closed her eyes and held her thumb and index finger over her eyelids for several long moments as Tootie's words sank in.
Finally, she looked Tootie in the eye and said, "I'm sorry, Tootie. I know you're only trying to be a good friend. You are a good friend. I shouldn't have bitten your head off just now. It's just that…"
"It's just that what?"
"It's just that…this is a very complicated and scary situation. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. I'm in over my head and I just don't know how to deal with all of this."
"Then talk to me. I might be able to help you."
"If Jo ever found out that I told you–"
"She won't. Like I said a few moments ago, I know that this isn't gossip. I won't say a thing about it to anyone. You have my word."
Over the next few minutes, Natalie explained everything that had been happening with Jo, and she told her Jo's diagnosis and described the surgical procedure Jo needed to have done like a true doctor's daughter.
"I can't believe it," said a very shocked Tootie. "I can't believe Jo actually needs heart surgery."
"I can't believe it, either. You never think that things like this are ever going to happen to you or to someone close to you. Now, it is happening, and I don't have a clue what to do."
"I think somebody should know about this, like Mrs. Garrett or Mrs. Polniaczek."
"Tootie, I don't think that's an option. You know Jo swore me to secrecy, and if she found out I broke my promise to her, it would really upset her. You don't have to be a doctor's daughter to know that it is never a good idea to upset somebody with a heart condition. You and I can't ever talk about this…to anyone."
"Don't worry, Nat. You know I won't say a word about it to anyone. And besides, it's not my place to say anything. It's yours."
"What do you mean?"
"Jo confided in you about this, Natalie. She trusted you with this secret. And you're the one who has to do the right thing with it."
"What is the right thing?"
"Do you remember that time when some fluid got trapped in my ear and it became infected?"
"Of course I do."
"I wouldn't go to the doctor about it. I was terrified. I confided in you about the problems I was having with my hearing, and I begged you to keep it a secret. I trusted you, and you did the right thing, even though I couldn't see it at the time. You told Mrs. Garrett about it and basically forced me into going to the doctor. I was mad at you at first, but now, I couldn't be more grateful to you. If you hadn't had the guts to do the right thing and rat me out, I'd probably be deaf today. I know it's not easy, Natalie. I know you don't want to do anything to upset Jo or make her angry, but you've got to do for her what you did for me. Jo's too proud to admit it, but she can't handle this problem all on her own."
"But even if I did tell Mrs. Garrett or Mrs. Polniaczek about it, there's nothing either one of them could do. They don't have tens of thousands of dollars just lying around to pay for the surgery that Jo needs."
"Yeah, you've got a point," Tootie admitted. "It's so unfair. Why can't everybody have as much money as Blair?" she complained.
In that next moment, it hit them both at the same time as they looked at one another and cried out, "Blair!"
The following afternoon after classes were over, Natalie got Blair alone in the girls' room for a one-on-one conversation with her. While Blair sat down at a chair at their table, Natalie remained standing, her blue eyes locked with Blair's chestnut eyes. The wealthy young blonde knew immediately that something was up; she could sense it that Natalie really was in a no-nonsense mood.
"Blair, you and I have lived here together at Eastland for over three and a half years now. I'd say that in all that time, we've gotten to know each other pretty well."
"I agree. We have."
"You might even say that you and Jo and Tootie and Mrs. Garrett and I have become family to each other."
"I agree once again. We are a family, Natalie. You're absolutely right."
Natalie then sighed, raked her fingers through her light brown hair, and said, "Blair, I'm just going to tell you exactly like it is. During these past few years we've been living together, I've come to realize that there are two different Blairs. There's the silly, spoiled Blair whose very existence seems to revolve around shopping sprees and boys, and then there's the mature Blair who's wise beyond her years because of all the time she had to spend being her parents' marriage counselor when she was just a little kid. The mature Blair who's wise beyond her years…that is the Blair I need to speak to right now."
That really got Blair's attention. She maintained eye contact with Natalie and told her truthfully, "I'm listening."
"Remember when we first came back to Eastland after the summer break and we found out that Jo's scholarship was being cut because of the economy? Back when it really looked like Jo would be leaving school?"
"Who could forget?"
"Jo was in trouble, and she really needed you to be there for her. And for a long time, she couldn't come to you and ask for your help because of your terrible attitude. It was Jo who had the problem. It was Jo who needed help. But instead of being there for her like a true friend, you twisted the situation and turned it around and made it all about you. You used it as an excuse to brag about yourself and your family's so-called 'generosity.' You made that awful crack about how your family saved a bunch of monkeys from starvation, so Jo wasn't alone. Jo really needed your help, and you called her a monkey, Blair. In what I guess was your stupid idea of a joke, you compared Jo to monkeys and in a nutshell, you told her that she was something less than human; an animal. If the tables had been turned and you were the scholarship student in need of money and Jo was the rich girl, would you really want to turn to her for help if she called you an animal and acted obnoxious about the whole thing and made you feel like you would owe her for the rest of your life?"
"No, I guess not," Blair quietly admitted. "Natalie, what's the point of all this?"
"Even though you are a good person, sometimes, you really can act like a jerk, even to the people you're closest to. You were there for Jo eventually. It took you a while, but in the end you finally did start behaving like a true friend. But it was your horrible attitude that made it practically impossible for Jo to turn to you for help for so long. You can't act that way again, Blair. You can't afford to act spoiled and immature and obnoxious now. Jo's in trouble again, and this time, there's a lot more at stake than a scholarship."
Blair rose to her feet in that moment and asked in a concerned voice, "What are you talking about?"
"My father ran some tests on Jo a few weeks ago. Nobody knew about it except me. I had to pry the truth out of Jo, and she made me promise not to say anything to anyone. Jo suffered from multiple cases of strep throat as a kid, which turned into rheumatic fever. And in turn, the rheumatic fever did damage to two of Jo's heart valves. One valve needs to be repaired, and another valve needs to be replaced altogether. And the operation could cost tens of thousands of dollars. Mrs. Polniaczek doesn't have insurance, so Jo is basically up a creek. Blair, if Jo doesn't get this operation, she could die."
Blair studied Natalie's face for a few moments, trying to discern if she was really being serious or if this was some crazy kind of joke. But it didn't take her long to see the worry in Natalie's eyes. "You're not kidding, are you?" she eventually asked.
"No. This is not a joke. I've never been more serious about anything in my life."
A few moments later, Blair said, "I'm going to Italy with my father for spring break next week. I'll talk to him about it. I'll take care of everything."
"Good. And this time, keep your big mouth shut. Don't say a word to Jo about this and don't turn this into an excuse to brag about yourself like you did with the Warner Foundation scholarship. Don't be stupid and try to paint Jo as some kind of charity case because you know if you do that, Jo will get angry and she'll probably refuse to let you take care of this. Don't try to twist this and make it all about you, because this is not about you. This is about Jo. This is about doing whatever's necessary to keep Jo alive, even if it means keeping this to yourself and passing up an opportunity to be praised by all the people around you."
Visibly hurt by Natalie's piercing words, Blair asked, "Natalie, do you really think I'm that petty?"
"You were that petty about the Warner Foundation scholarship, weren't you?"
For the next several moments, Blair was silenced by the harsh truth of Natalie's words. Finally, she quietly admitted, "Yeah, I…I guess I was."
Natalie could clearly see that she'd wounded Blair, and she told her, "Look, I'm sorry. I know I'm being pretty hard on you right now. I don't mean to hurt you, Blair, but Jo's life is on the line, here. We can't afford to mess around and play games. I had to be real with you and tell you the cold, hard truth about Jo…and about yourself."
Again, Blair remained silent for a few seconds, but she finally told Natalie, "I understand. You don't have to worry, Natalie. I realize how important this is. I won't do or say anything stupid. I won't say a word to Jo about any of this."
Natalie gave Blair an understanding nod, and then she left Blair alone in their room for a little while. In that time alone, Blair sat down and began taking a good look at herself, and she started asking herself some hard questions inside.
Later that evening, right after Mrs. Garrett and the girls were finished cleaning up after supper, Jo got a pleasant surprise. Her friend Jessie suddenly rode into the Eastland parking lot on her motorcycle, and when she came into the cafeteria in her typical leather jacket and jeans, Jo couldn't have been happier. Jo, Mrs. Garrett, and the girls were all sitting around together in the empty cafeteria when they heard Jessie's bike.
"I wonder who that could be," said Mrs. Garrett.
In that moment, Blair was just about to make a wise crack about how it had to be a friend of Jo's because only Jo's friends would ride around on something as 'pedestrian' as a motorcycle, but then she thought about Jo's condition and realized it would probably be a bad idea to poke fun at her right now. The last thing Blair wanted to do was upset Jo and make her heart problems worse.
It was then that Jessie strolled inside, and Jo instantly got up to greet her.
"Hey, Jess!" Jo said aloud as she gave her old pal a friendly slap on the back. "How ya doin'?"
"I'm good, thanks."
"What are you doing here?"
"The boss had a family emergency and he had to close up the garage for a few days, so I thought I'd hop on my bike and come see you for a day or two if that's alright."
"It's more than alright. I'm happy you're here," Jo told her sincerely.
"Thanks," Jessie responded, and then Jo realized that she hadn't introduced her to everybody yet.
"Oh, uh, Jessie, these are my friends. You've met Blair before in New York," said Jo, and Blair and the others got up from their seats then.
"Yeah. Hi," Jessie said as she shook hands with Blair, Blair giving her a friendly nod and smile.
"And this is Natalie, Tootie, and Mrs. Garrett."
Over the next few seconds, Jessie shook hands with all of them and said hello.
"We're very pleased to meet you, Jessie. We've heard a lot about you," Mrs. Garrett said pleasantly.
"Well I hope you'll let me spend a couple of days here with Jo anyway," Jessie joked, and Mrs. Garrett responded with a chuckle.
"Please, make yourself at home, dear," said Mrs. G.
"Thank you," said Jessie.
They spent the next half-hour chitchatting and making small talk, and then the girls and Mrs. Garrett left them alone in the lounge so they could hang out for a while. Jo let Jessie know that she'd sleep downstairs in the lounge while she was visiting and that Jessie could sleep in her bed in the girls' room upstairs. Then Jessie commented about how shocked she was to find out that "Eastland wasn't Spoiled Brat Central Station" and that the school "actually had girls like Natalie and Tootie who were normal," and Jo laughed for a moment and agreed. After talking for another couple of minutes, the two girls decided to call it a day and said goodnight for the evening.
At three-thirty that Friday afternoon, while Jo and the girls were upstairs in their room packing to go home for spring break, Jessie walked into the empty cafeteria…and began overhearing a conversation she clearly wasn't supposed to hear. Mrs. Garrett and her friend from Bates Academy, Professor Henry Clayton, were sitting together on the loveseat in the lounge talking…and the discussion soon became personal.
"I'm so glad you decided to come over for a little visit before we all leave tomorrow morning, Henry," Mrs. Garrett told him.
"I wanted to be sure I caught a few minutes with you before then," said the Professor in his classy British accent. "Edna, are you certain I can't talk you into visiting England with me during your vacation? We'd stay in separate bedrooms of my family home, of course. You know I'd never suggest anything improper." All the students and faculty at Bates Academy were also leaving in the morning for their spring break, and Professor Clayton was going back to England for a little visit.
"Oh Henry, it's a very tempting offer, but you know I'm going to Appleton next week to visit my sister, Beverly Ann. She and her husband Frank just separated a couple of weeks ago, and it's tearing her up inside. She's going through a lot, and she really needs me right now."
"I understand. I knew your answer would most likely be no, but you know I had to try."
Mrs. Garrett smiled then and said, "I'm very flattered that you did."
Professor Clayton smiled, and then he reached out, took her hand in his, and gave it an affectionate squeeze. In the next moment, Mrs. Garrett returned the smile, and then Professor Clayton admitted, "You know, Edna, I don't think I told you this enough while you were nursing me back to health after I injured my back, but you really are a special woman. You're always taking care of everybody. Me. Your sister. The girls. It's not everybody who can do what you do here every day."
"Well it's not as if my work here is any big sacrifice. I love my job here at Eastland, and I love my girls. I won't try to pretend that taking care of four teenage girls isn't challenging at times, but it's always worth it."
"I'm sure it is, but as I said, it's not everybody who could do it. I know for certain that I, for one, would never have the patience. My late wife was the same way. She was a brilliant, beautiful woman and I loved her very much, but she was a great deal like me. She too was quite the perfectionist, and although she was a caring person, she was never very patient or maternal. That's why we both agreed early on in our marriage that we'd never have children. We both knew we weren't cut out for it."
"You were certainly cut out to be a very fine teacher, though. I know you're doing a wonderful job over at Bates."
"It's nice to know somebody thinks so. I put forth a very great deal of effort in my job. It would be nice if my students noticed it and appreciated it as you do. In my day, we listened to our teachers. We paid attention to them. We paid them the respect they were due. But unfortunately, times have really changed, at least as far as Bates is concerned. Do you have problems in that area with your girls? Do they ever make you feel disrespected or taken for granted?"
"Most of the time, no. However, I will admit that there was one time when they really did make me feel as though I merely existed to do whatever they wanted or needed me to do; like I was just their nursemaid, nothing more. One time I was blindsided by a sudden financial crisis in my life, and I'd taken a second job as night manager at the Howard Johnson restaurant out on the highway. I was really going through a lot, trying to hold down two jobs on practically no sleep, and instead of giving me understanding and consideration, the girls just couldn't take their minds off themselves. Finally, I just couldn't take it anymore, and I really blew my stack at the girls."
"I can hardly blame you. Young people these days…they're so spoiled and disrespectful."
"Well, what happened with the girls was just one incident. Not all kids are like that all the time, Henry. My girls really are wonderful kids, and even though it's not always easy being responsible for four teenagers, I wouldn't have my life any other way."
"You're incredible, Edna. If I were in your shoes and I had to accept personal responsibility for four teenagers, I believe I'd run as far away as I could get."
Edna chuckled and told him, "Oh, it's not that bad, Henry. And life with the girls certainly isn't anything to run away from."
"You never run away from anything, anyway. You're the toughest person I know. You face everything head-on. It's one of the qualities about you that I admire the most."
She smiled and explained, "I have my father to thank for that. He's the one who always taught us that running away whenever life gets hard is never an option. From practically the moment we could crawl, he taught us that we had to face our problems and deal with them and not spend our whole lives running away the instant things started to get a little painful. No, I've always been a firm believer in facing your fears and your hurts in life.
"If only Jo could learn that lesson. I've had so much trouble with her about this over the years. Whenever there's a serious problem in Jo's life and she's really hurting, she never wants to stick around and work it out like I always have. No, whenever the going gets rough, Jo gets going, right out the door. I've always known that running away from your problems is no solution, but Jo just hasn't been able to fully grasp that yet. She's not quite as bad about it as she used to be, but still, it's something she's really going to have to work on."
"And there's some things you have to work on too, sweetheart," Jessie's angry, sarcastic voice suddenly interrupted, and Edna and Henry stood while Jessie put her hands on her hips. "You really think you know it all, don't ya?" she continued. "Well I got news for ya. When it comes to Jo, you don't know nothin'. You got the nerve to look down through your nose on Jo, thinkin' you're so much better than she is because you don't run from your problems and you think she does. You go on about how your father taught you to never run away from your problems. But you conveniently forget the fact that Jo never had a father. He may have been livin' with Jo and her mom the first twelve years of her life, but in reality, he left 'em a long time before that. He was never really there for her, teachin' her things like your father did you. I may not know you as well as Jo does, but I know that in her life, she has been through levels of pain that a self-righteous know-it-all like you can't even begin to imagine. You have no idea what it feels like to have a parent reject you and refuse to love you. You have no idea how bad something like that hurts. And on top of that, Jo had not just one but two of her friends commit suicide. And as if that wasn't bad enough, she just found out that another friend of hers is dyin'. If you had any empathy at all, you would understand that the human heart can only handle so much pain. There comes a point when a person just can't handle anymore agony in her life, and she's got no choice but to 'run away' in order to keep herself sane. But you wouldn't understand that, would ya? You're Miss Goody-Two-Shoes, who grew up knowin' nothin' but love and security from a good home, a good family, and a mother and a father who loved you. It's only after you've been through some of the stuff Jo and I have, it's only after you've played in the big leagues of pain like Jo and I have, that you can preach to people like us about anything. Until you experience gettin' rejected, hated, and abandoned by one of your own parents and growin' up in a war zone, lady, you can take that self-righteous, arrogant attitude of yours and you can shove it."
Jessie then stormed out of the lounge, leaving Edna and Henry just standing there, stunned.
