DECONSTRUCTION
This chapter takes place during Endgame. My intention was to have one chapter for Endgame and one chapter for Renewal. But of course, I just talk too much. This was getting too long and so I am just going with the flow and see how many I end up with, both for Endgame and Renewal.
For this chapter, I am lifting dialogue directly from the episode with my deepest appreciation and acknowledgement to the wonderful writers, Warren Leight, Julie Martin, and Kate Rorick. When I have done that in the past, I have put them in italics. But since I am using italics to signify someone's thoughts, especially Bobby's thoughts at the beginning, I need to find another way to differentiate words taken directly from the episode. I certainly don't want to take undue credit for the amazing job the writers have done. So anything that comes from the episode itself will be in bold, whether in italics (as in the beginning with Bobby's 'narration') or not.
Thank you, as always, to Judyg for beta'ing, and for encouraging me…and for allowing me obsess endlessly over the characters of this story. Thank you to Flashymom for recommending the song, "The Way You Look Tonight" by Dorothy Fields and Jerome Kern. Thank you again to everyone who is reading this. These characters, both the ones created by Dick Wolf and Rene Balcer, as well as the ones created by me, are so real and vivid in my head, I'm truly grateful that I get to share them with you.
CHAPTER 21
Detective Robert Goren. Major Case Squad. Profiler. Genius. Always a step ahead of everyone else in the room. What a load of crap, to quote Mike Logan. Failure is more like it. Failure at everything important to me in this world: as a husband, as a father, as a son, as a detective.
I haven't been a step ahead of Mark Ford Brady. I've been two steps behind him; following every single bread crumb he dropped until I arrived at exactly the place he wanted me. He raped my mother. He beat her almost to death. And four years earlier he very well may have fathered me.
I told Annie that I'm done with the case. This time it's true. I'm done. I am done.
Sunday May 20-DAY 14
"I'm hungry."
Annie stopped short at the strength and clarity of the words spoken by her mother-in-law and stared across the room at Bobby. Annie had just come from taking a hurried shower to find Frances sitting up in the bed and Bobby looking perplexed. Though thin and frail, Frances was much more alert than she had been for two days. And she was asking for food.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," said one of the nurses, coming into the room behind Annie, carrying a tray. "Your breakfast is right here."
She set the tray on the table over Frances' bed and smiled at her. Frances looked down at the oatmeal, soggy toast, and bowl of canned fruit cocktail.
"I don't want that," she said disdainfully.
"Wh…what do you want," Annie asked her.
"I want real food," she answered firmly. "I want fluffy pancakes and crisp bacon…and scrambled eggs."
"I can ask the kitchen," the nurse said doubtfully.
"No," Annie told her. "I'll take care of it."
Annie didn't even bother drying her short hair; she just ran her fingers through it. Grabbing her purse, she quickly kissed Frances' cheek and then Bobby and left. She walked to the diner down the street and ordered breakfast for Frances, Bobby, and herself.
Frances wasn't able to eat very much, but she enjoyed it. She was alert and cheerful, talking to Bobby about the old neighborhood. When she was finished eating, she insisted that she wanted a shower….not a bed bath, she wanted a real shower. Annie and one of the nursing assistants helped her into a shower chair and took her to the shower. The exertion left Frances exhausted and she fell asleep. But she woke up after a short time, when Frank arrived, overjoyed to once again have her two sons together. Annie slipped quietly from the room to give the three of them time alone.
She returned an hour later, along with the children, who had been dropped off by Janey. Frances happily held her arms out to them, shushing Annie when she told the boys not to climb on the bed. The morning passed and the staff heard happy voices and laughter spilling from the room. Frances hadn't been this animated for days and she seemed determined to enjoy this as much as possible. Annie noticed that Bobby glanced over at her frequently, either sitting so that their thighs or feet were touching, or close enough to reach over and squeeze her hand occasionally. She smiled at him each time she caught his eye.
As lunch approached, Frances announced that she wanted pizza…cheesy, greasy pizza. Bobby and Annie exchanged glances as he left the room to call in the order. Frances savored the pizza, although she couldn't even finish one piece. But she ate slowly, relishing the taste and the feel of the melted cheese on her tongue. Annie tried to insist that she take a nap, thinking that she must be tired. But Frances refused, saying that she felt fine and didn't want to miss a moment with her family. Bobby's expression didn't change, but Annie detected a slight flinch as the implication sank in. Frances expected this to be her last family gathering.
Through the afternoon, Frances never faltered or showed any signs of weariness. Ally had brought her violin and her grandmother insisted that she play for them, which brought other residents and staff to the doorway to enjoy the music. Annie considered pulling a deck of cards out of her purse and starting a game of poker, but decided it was better not to with Frank there. Phillip and Andrew found some board games in the activity room and Frank played Monopoly with the children for a long time, with no clear winner but a lot of laughs.
Late in the afternoon, Janey came to pick up the children. After each of them received a long hug and whispered words from their grandmother, Annie walked with them out to the parking lot. She hugged Janey and thanked her for all her help, then hugged each of the children. Ally hung back so that she was the last to say goodbye to her mother. As the twins settled into the back seat, Ally looked her mother in the eye.
"Grandma had a good day today," she said.
"Yes," Annie replied, nodding. "She has had a very good day."
"But she's not really better, is she?"
Annie didn't answer for a moment, meeting Ally's level gaze. "No, she's not really better."
"Grandma is still going to die." A statement, not a question.
"Yes," Annie told her softly. "Grandma is going to die."
"Soon?"
"Yes, I think very soon."
"So this is the last time we will get to see her?"
"Probably so, Sweetheart."
Ally's face crumpled and the defiant, angry teenager Annie had become used to seeing disappeared and she was once again a little girl needing her mother's comfort. Annie opened her arms and Ally stepped into her embrace. She didn't fit as well as she once did, her height making the hug a bit awkward. But Annie tightened her arms around her and held her close. Ally didn't sob or wail, she just cried quietly for a few minutes, holding onto her mother.
"I miss you, Mommy," she murmured softly.
"I miss you, too, Sweetheart."
Pulling away and straightening, Ally wiped her face and looked at her mother again. Annie smiled as she brushed a tear away with her thumb and Ally smiled back tremulously. Annie stood and watched the car as it drove away and then turned to go back to Frances' room. Frances decided she wanted a hamburger for dinner and this time Frank volunteered to go for food and Bobby went with him.
"I'm glad Bobby found you," Frances said, patting the bed next to her.
"I am too," Annie told her with a smile, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
"Maybe if Frank had found someone…had children…."
Annie reached out and squeezed her hand. "Maybe…"
"You've been good for Bobby. Annie…has he been good for you? Has being in this family been good for you?"
"Oh Mom…" Annie blinked back tears. "Bobby is the best thing that ever happened to me, and he gave me those three beautiful children. I wouldn't trade my life for anything…and that includes you and Frank."
They sat in companionable silence until the men returned with dinner. Annie smiled over her vegetarian burger as Frances wiped her chin. She said she wanted a juicy hamburger and that was exactly what she got.
After dinner, it became obvious that the activities of the day had finally caught up to her and Frances admitted to being tired. Frank kissed her cheek and told her that he was going to say goodnight, promising to return in the morning. Bobby excused himself and walked out with Frank while Annie helped Frances get ready for bed. With her settled, Annie wandered out to the hallway. Frank and Bobby were still standing in front of the elevators. She stood and watched them for a moment as they talked quietly. The doors slid open and Bobby and Frank hugged briefly before Frank stepped into the elevator.
"Thanks for everything, Frank," she heard Bobby say.
"Hey…that's what big brothers are for," Frank told him with a grin.
The doors slid closed and Bobby turned around, smiling as he caught sight of her. He slid an arm around her as they walked back to the room.
"What was that about," Annie asked.
"I thanked Frank for being here with you…..and for you." He looked down at her. "I know I haven't been."
She put her hand on his chest. "You're here now," she said. "That's all that matters."
He pulled her against him and they wrapped their arms around one another, holding each other as Frances slept. This time Annie told Bobby he was not going to sit up in the chair all night, and insisted that he lie down with her on the small fold-out bed. It wasn't even big enough for her, really, much less adding her very large husband. But she managed to spoon herself against him and make it work, if barely. Annie drifted to sleep with her husband's arms around her and the steady thud of his heart against her back.
Monday May 21-DAY 15
Annie awoke and lay still, unsure of what had awakened her. She and Bobby were still squeezed into the too-small bed, his arms still wrapped around her. It was still dark and quiet in the room. Too quiet. Even as the thought entered her mind, Bobby was rolling away from her, sitting up.
"Mom?" He was already at her bedside before Annie could pull herself up. "She's not breathing," she heard him say as he reached for the light over Frances' bed.
Annie reached the other side of the bed just as Frances took a shallow breath. Annie laid her hand gently on her chest and watched as she took another, then another. Her breaths were slow and shallow, gradually becoming faster and deeper until she seemed to be hyperventilating, then just as gradually slowing again until it just stopped. Bobby's eyes sought hers as Frances lie still, not breathing, for perhaps twenty seconds before she took another shallow breath. They watched in silence for several minutes as the pattern continued, taking a minute and a half to two minutes each time.
"Mom?" Annie shook Frances gently but she didn't respond, so she shook her a little harder and called more loudly, "Mom?"
She still didn't respond so Annie picked up a brush from the bedside table and pulled the covers back to expose her feet. She ran the brush along the soles of her feet, but Frances didn't respond, didn't flinch, didn't move at all. Annie pulled the covers back up to her shoulders and looked up to find Bobby watching her carefully.
"It's called agonal respirations," she told him.
"Cheyne-Stokes respirations," he said.
"Yes."
"It happens in the last stage of….dying," he said, watching her.
"Yes."
"How long?"
Annie shook her head and shrugged slightly, palms up. "Hours…sometimes days."
"Sometimes?"
His dark eyes held her and she knew there was no way to soften this or make it better for him.
"Usually hours," she said.
He nodded and looked back at his mother, his expression tender.
"I guess….I should call Frank…."
"Do you want me to call him," she asked softly.
"No," he said, sighing. "I'll do it."
He leaned down and gently kissed Frances' forehead before pulling his phone from his pocket and stepping outside the room to make the call. Annie tried to make sure Frances was comfortable and straightened the blanket and sheet over her. She slipped into the bathroom to change out of her pajamas, since Frank would be joining them. When she came out, Bobby was sitting in a chair, next to Frances' bed, with her hand in his. Annie went to the nurse's station to let the nurses know about the change in Frances' condition. One of the nurses went in to check on her and told Bobby and Annie to let her know if Frances seemed to be uncomfortable and she would give her something. Annie sank into the chair on the other side of the bed, noticing the time. 3:00 AM.
An hour later, Frank arrived and Annie insisted on giving up her chair so he could sit by his mother. She noticed that she had left the sofa bed unmade, so she tidied up and put the love seat back in place. She glanced at Frank and Bobby as she worked. Bobby was explaining the pathophysiology of Cheyne-Stokes respirations and she smiled, in spite of the circumstances. She had told Lady Harrington once that most of Bobby's medical knowledge did not come from her, and that was true. Bobby was a true autodidact; reading and researching extensively on any subject that caught his attention, of which medicine was just one.
She remembered in the early days of their marriage, Bobby pulling out her nursing school text books and reading them cover to cover; amazing to her because she had spent four years reading only what she had to read for school. It never occurred to her to read any of those books for fun. But it was fun for Bobby, and he had made it fun for her too, as he pulled her in with his enthusiasm and she reread parts she had forgotten while they discussed them. Bobby came to the hospital as often as his job and school allowed and questioned the doctors. Several times he had even been granted permission to observe surgery with the interns and medical students.
Bobby pulled another chair next to his and Annie sat down, slipping her hand into his. The three of them sat watching Frances as her breathing continued a regular pattern of fast and deep, fading to slow and shallow until it simply stopped for twenty to thirty seconds and then began again. Each time she stopped breathing, it felt as though the three of them stopped, too. They talked quietly, both to Frances because the nurse assured them that she might still be able to hear them, and to one another. Annie could see that Frank was uncomfortable and she knew there was nothing she could do to make it easier. He was watching his mother die.
Although Bobby and Frank both protested that they were not hungry, Annie insisted on going to the diner to get breakfast for them. But all three of them picked at the food. Annie slowly became aware of a faint gurgling sound with each breath that Frances took, slowly becoming louder. Turning her to her side alleviated it for a short time, but soon it was back.
"What's happening," Frank asked with alarm.
"The death rattle," Bobby said slowly. "She can't swallow, so the secretions pool at the back of her throat and create that sound as air passes through it."
"Well, can't they do something," Frank asked in alarm. "She sounds like she's choking."
Annie told him, "It's probably not uncomfortable for her…it's more uncomfortable for us to hear it."
"Probably?" Frank looked at her. "How the hell does anyone know if it's uncomfortable for her? The sensation of choking has to be 'uncomfortable.' Get the nurse in here and tell her to suction her or something!"
Bobby opened his mouth to argue, but Annie laid her hand on his and squeezed. "OK, Frank," she answered. "I'll talk to them. Suctioning would definitely be uncomfortable for her, but there are a couple of things we can do."
She went out to talk to the nurse. After calling the doctor, the nurse brought in a small bottle of Atropine eye drops and placed two drops under Frances' tongue. She explained that it would help to dry up the secretions and she could give it every hour or two. Bobby and Frank left the room while Annie and the nurse turned Frances to her other side and swabbed her mouth to remove a much of the secretions as they could, as well as moistening her lips and tongue.
The nurse came in frequently to check on Frances, as well as to ask if there was anything she could do for them and to administer the Atropine regularly. Annie was grateful and the Atropine helped; the gurgling sound softened and decreased, although it didn't disappear completely. Annie and the nurse also turned and repositioned Frances frequently, keeping her on her side most of the time as lying on her back made the rattling worse.
Annie watched Bobby carefully, but his expression remained calm. Frank, on the other hand, was clearly becoming more and more distressed by the minute. Annie didn't mention the fact that Frances' feet and legs were becoming mottled….blue spider web-like lines appearing on her cool skin. But she couldn't keep the brothers from noticing when it reached her fingers, hands, and arms. Frank was becoming more and more anxious, pacing the room, unable to sit for more than a minute or two. When the skin around Frances' lips began to turn dusky blue, it seemed to be the last straw for her eldest son.
"Good God! Why aren't they giving her oxygen?"
"Because," Annie told him softly. "She is breathing through her mouth, so oxygen through a nasal cannula probably won't help. And a mask," she added, anticipating his next question, "would be too restrictive and uncomfortable for her."
"And there's that word, 'probably', again! How do you know it won't help? Look at her! Her skin is turning blue! She's choking on her own saliva! And you're going to stand there and tell me that 'probably' she isn't uncomfortable?" He took a step toward Annie. "Get the damned doctor in here and do something for her!"
"Frank," Bobby said sharply, stepping between his brother and his wife. "Mom is dying." Frank glared at him, but he continued. "She's dying, OK? Nothing the doctor or the nurses or Annie does is going to change that. And no one wants her to be comfortable more than Annie does. They are doing everything they can, but this…." He gestured to their mother. "This is what it is…she's dying."
The room was suddenly still as Frank and Bobby faced one another, the only sound coming from Frances's labored breathing.
"Well, I can't do this," Frank finally said softly.
"Frank…"
"No! I can't…I won't sit here and watch my mother in the throes of death. It's grotesque…it's macabre. And I won't do it."
"Frank," Bobby said again, but he was already walking out the door.
Annie moved quietly to stand behind Bobby and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his back and holding him tightly. She felt his sigh of defeat.
"I'll go talk to him," she told him, releasing her hold and trying to step around him to the door.
"No." Bobby closed his hand around her wrist. "Let him go."
"Bobby…" She tried to tug her hand away. "He should be here. I know it's hard, but he's going to regret it if he doesn't stay. Just let me talk to him."
"No," he repeated, holding her wrist firmly. "This is Frank's decision."
"But…"
"No. Maybe some people just really can't do this, Annie. Maybe Frank is one of them; no matter what you think is best. You can't fix this."
She stared up at him. How many times over the last few years had he angrily accused her of trying to "fix" things, of thinking she knew what was best for everyone. But he didn't look angry now; he looked resigned. Resigned and incredibly sad. She took a deep breath.
"OK."
Bobby pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, his face against her hair. Neither of them spoke; they simply stood holding one another for a long time before taking up their positions next to Frances' bed.
Annie suggested that Bobby take a break and go for a walk while she and the nurse turned Frances and straightened her linens, trying to make sure she was comfortable. After the nurse left, Annie sat on the side of the bed, smoothing Frances' hair from her face, her fingers lightly tracing the contours of her face. She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her cheek.
"I love you, Mom," she whispered. "I'm going to miss you. Bobby and Frank, the kids…we are all going to miss you."
Frances' favorite Frank Sinatra song wafted through her mind. She began to hum the tune softly, then took one pale hand in both of hers as she began to sing.
"Some day, when I'm awfully low, Yes you're lovely, with your smile so warm With each word your tenderness grows, Lovely ... Never, ever change.
When the world is cold,
I will feel a glow just thinking of you...
And the way you look tonight.
And your cheeks so soft,
There is nothing for me but to love you,
And the way you look tonight.
Tearing my fear apart...
And that laugh that wrinkles your nose,
It touches my foolish heart.
Keep that breathless charm.
Won't you please arrange it ?
'Cause I love you ... Just the way you look tonight.
Mm, Mm, Mm, Mm,
Just the way you look to-night."
She hadn't heard Bobby come into the room, hadn't seen him standing mesmerized as she sang, and she started as he moved around the bed to sit in the chair next to her. Wordlessly, he reached for her and she slid into his lap, curling herself against him as he rested his cheek against the top of her head.
It was past lunch time and Annie insisted once again on going to get food for herself and Bobby, although he again told her that he wasn't hungry. The truth was that she wasn't hungry, either. But she needed an excuse to go outside for a breath of fresh air and she felt Bobby needed a bit more time alone with Frances. She knew that their talk on Saturday night had been emotional and draining for both of them, and they hadn't been alone since. Perhaps there was something more that he needed to say to her.
The walk to and from the diner was refreshing and Annie inhaled deeply of the spring air. Knowing Bobby would object, still she couldn't seem to stop herself from calling Frank. His phone went directly to voice mail and she left a message, asking him to reconsider and come back to Carmel Ridge. Back inside the facility, she froze in the doorway as she heard Bobby's voice, low and tortured, speaking to his mother.
"I'm sorry, Mom, I'm so sorry to have brought it all up. I'm not mad and you have nothing to apologize for. None of it matters, Ma…none. The only thing that's important is that you are my mother and I love you. I've always loved you and I always will."
Annie backed silently from the room and walked down the hallway to the waiting room. She sank into a chair, clutching the bags of food to her. She tried to make sense of what she had just heard. Bobby's apology for bringing up the past made sense, but why would Frances have apologized? Why would Bobby be angry with her? Because she was raped forty years ago? He would never blame her for what Brady did to her. What else had they talked about? Had Frances apologized for being so ill during his childhood and not being the mother he needed? Or had she told him that she almost left his father for Mark Ford Brady?
She stayed in the waiting room for another ten minutes, giving him time to say all that he needed to say. But she knew if she was gone too long, he would wonder where she was. Finally she went back to the room, careful to make noise as she approached so that he would know she was there. They both ate more than they had at breakfast, hunger finally setting in despite their preoccupation with this process of dying.
Sitting silently in the chairs next to the bed, holding hands, Annie leaned over to rest her head against Bobby's shoulder, weariness overtaking her. He put his arm around her and her eyes closed, drifting softly into that fuzzy interlude between wakefulness and sleep. The rhythm of Frances' breathing had become so familiar over the hours that she almost felt it as her own. The periods of apnea, though lasting only twenty seconds or so, each seemed to stretch forever in their silence. Each time, Annie had the urge to gasp and draw in a deep breath. As she dozed against Bobby's shoulder, Frances' breathing became shallow and slow, following the same pattern that it had all day until it ended with the familiar apnea. Even as her brain tried to sink more deeply into the sleep that was pulling at her, she waited for the breathing to begin again.
But it didn't. Bobby's arm around her stiffened and withdrew as he sat up. Annie sat up, as well, trying to clear her befogged brain. It had been more than twenty seconds, she knew, but wasn't sure just how much time had passed since Frances took that last breath. Bobby was standing up, leaning over the bed, and Annie got up and moved to the other side of the bed. She put her hand lightly on her mother-in-law's chest. Suddenly Frances took in a deep, shuddering breath and let it out slowly. And then nothing. The silence in the room pressed in on them as they stood over her bed. Bobby looked at Annie, the question in his brown eyes. She lifted her hand to cup Bobby's cheek.
"Babe," she whispered as he closed his eyes and leaned his cheek against her palm.
With her other hand, she reached for the call button to summon the nurse. When she arrived, Annie moved back around the bed to stand next to Bobby as the nurse put her stethoscope against Frances' still chest, listening for a heartbeat that wasn't there.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "She's gone. I'll go call the doctor."
Bobby leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his mother's forehead.
"Goodbye, Ma. I love you."
They sat back down in their chairs, Bobby grasping Annie's hand tightly. They sat in silence as the nurse went out to the nurse's station to make calls to the doctor, the mortuary. They sat in the room that had been Frances' home for so many years, waiting for the mortuary to arrive to remove "the body". They sat next to the still, silent form of the troubled woman whose schizophrenia had dictated so many of their decisions from the day they met.
Annie convinced Bobby to leave the room with her when the mortuary attendant arrived. Familiar though he was with body bags, watching his own mother being zipped into one was something Annie didn't want imprinted on his mind. She left him sitting in the lobby, staring at nothing, while she made some phone calls. She called Janey's house and talked with each of the children, trying to comfort them. Next she called Frank, but his phone again went straight to voice mail. She hated to leave news like this on his voice mail, but decided he had to be expecting this call and so she told him as gently as she could that his mother had died. She called Grandpa, wanting to hear his comforting voice. She knew that she needed to focus on Bobby and his grief now, but Grandpa would understand hers as well. Her mother-in-law had been a part of her life longer than her own mother had been, and this loss felt just as great. She called Alex, assuring her that she would let her know if there was anything they needed.
Once her body was gone, they went back to the room to pack her things. The nurses had stripped the bed and she saw Bobby flinch when he saw it, though he said nothing. They began filling boxes with Frances' possessions; her clothing, books, knick knacks. They took her paintings off the wall. Annie smiled as she looked at each one. Art therapy had been good for Frances, awaking something creative and joyful in her. Annie was taking clothing out of the dresser drawers when Bobby reached down to take her arm and pull her to her feet.
"Annie," he said, pulling her against him. "I want you to go home."
"What?" She pulled away to look up at him. "We'll go soon…after we get everything packed and loaded in the SUV."
"No," he told her. "I want you to go now. I'll finish packing."
"Babe…there's no need for you to do it alone. It will go quicker if we do this together."
"Annie…I want to do this alone. I want to be alone…here in her room…for just a while." He gave her a sad smile. "And I want you to go get our kids. I want them to sleep in their own beds tonight. They've been at Rob and Janey's for two weeks…they miss you, they need to be home."
She put her hand on his cheek. "You're sure?"
"I'm sure," he answered, kissing her palm. "Take the Mustang and I'll keep the SUV to load everything."
Not sure it was a good idea to leave him alone, nevertheless she acquiesced. She hugged him tightly and told him to call if he needed her to come back, and he kissed her. Annie took one last look around at the room, realizing that she would never see it again. Taking a deep breath, she kissed Bobby again and walked out the door.
Alex made her way from the cafeteria to the eleventh floor of One Police Plaza. Stepping off the elevator, she paused each time a detective stopped her to give her a message of condolence for her partner. She was at her desk when she noticed a red-haired woman getting on the elevator and realized it was Mark Ford Brady's lawyer. She was wondering what she had been doing in the Major Case Squad when the door of the captain's office opened.
"Eames," Ross called. "In my office, please."
Now what, she wondered.
End chapter 21
** The Way You Look Tonight by Dorothy Fields and Jerome Kern.
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