Part Two
Disclaimers in Prologue.
"Hey, Uncle Jimmy, Johnny Bravo's almost on."
"Don't want to watch it right now. Watch it with Jess."
At that, Michael turned to look across the room at his uncle, giving him a disbelieving stare. It was wasted. Jimmy was hidden behind a newspaper.
Michael stood up and walked across the living room, saying, "She's napping." He plopped down next to Jimmy, and stuck his head into the space between the newspaper and Jimmy. "Hey, why are you reading the obituaries?"
Jimmy shut the paper with a loud rustle, folding it up.
"No reason," he said.
"Oh come on, you're lookin' for stuff, just like those Lone Gunguys or whatever."
"Lone Gunmen," Jimmy corrected.
"Yeah." Undaunted, Michael continued eagerly, "So, did you find anything, like more info about that water car or stories about Mulder or, or, or--"
"I was just reading the paper."
"Uh-huh."
"Uh-huh," Jimmy mimicked.
"You really miss them, don't you?"
Jimmy nodded and looked down, fiddling with a corner of the newspaper.
"Umm, Uncle Jimmy?" The hesistancy in Michael's voice brought Jimmy's head up. It wasn't often Michael was unsure in his manner.
"What?"
"Why did you come to live with Mom and me?"
A brief flash of pain flickered through Jimmy's eyes and he looked down. Michael continued unaware, "Mom wouldn't tell me. She said I should ask you."
The white stones that spread as far as the eye could see were sad, beautiful testaments to the heroes of America. Jimmy and Michael had trekked through the snow to the three grave markers. Michael had knelt to look at each memorial, before coming to stand beside Jimmy.
They both stood in front of the three gravestones, heads bowed. Here, the ground was still covered with pristine snow, and the two bare-limbed trees just beyond created a stark landscape, no less beautiful for its barrenness. A bird landed on the branch of one tree, uttered a warbling note and was silent again.
Jimmy said, "Not what you thought it would be, huh?"
"Yeah."
"I shouldn't have brought you here."
"It's okay. I wanted to see."
Jimmy started back toward the dark blue Ford Explorer, Michael trudging a few feet behind him. He caught up to Jimmy, walking beside him.
"Hey, Uncle Jimmy, can we go play football in the park?"
"What? Yeah, sure."
They walked on, both involved in their own thoughts, until Jimmy caught sight of some movement out of the corner of his eyes. When he turned to look, all he saw was a dark figure against the horizon, a woman, walking away.
Michael was tossing a football up and down, the ball coming dangerously close to hitting the ceiling of the kitchen.
"Watch it, Michael, or you'll put a hole in the ceiling."
"Mom, you tell me that every time and I still haven't done it yet."
Jessica hid a smile and said, "Well, there's always a first time." She flipped a hamburger.
Usually Jimmy helped her while she made dinner, but today he was conspicuously absent. He and Michael had come in from their trip to the park, both ruddy from the cold and looking like "mud monsters" as Michael had put it. She'd sent them both to clean up and that was the last she'd seen of Jimmy for an hour.
She heard a thunk and wrenched her attention back to Michael. He was looking at the football and when he noticed her staring at him, he hid it quickly behind his back.
"Sorry," he said.
"Put the ball away, it's almost time for dinner anyway. Hey, Michael, where'd Jimmy disappear to?"
Michael shrugged. "I don't know. I think he's upstairs."
Jessica frowned.
"Michael, what happened while you were out?"
"Nothing. We just played football, that's all. Why?"
She turned off the stove and piled the hamburgers on a plate. She handed the plate to Michael and said, "Michael, would you get out the vegetables and chop them up for me?"
He made a disgruntled face. "Do I have to?"
She narrowed her eyes at him, giving him a mock glare. "Yes. I have to go talk to your uncle for a few minutes."
"Okay."
As she walked through the living room, through the small hall that led to the stairs, she could hear Michael clattering through the silverware. She stopped at the foot of the stairs, and called back to Michael, "And set the table!"
"Mom!"
The door to Jimmy's room was open and she could see him sitting on the edge of his bed holding a beaten up photo, wallet sized. She leaned against the door jamb.
"Are you all right, Jimmy?"
"No."
She came in, shutting the door partway behind her, so if Michael came upstairs she'd hear him. She sat down beside him.
"What happened while you were out?"
He shrugged. "Michael and I played football."
"That's Michael's story, Jimmy. Don't lie to me. I'm the one that knows, remember? Besides, you were never very good at it."
He sighed and said, "Michael asked why I'd come to live here, so I told him."
"You told him about Yves?"
He shook his head, "No. I can't. I mean, I tried, but I couldn't. So I told him when the Lone Gunmen," he swallowed, "I didn't have a place to stay, so I came here. He told me, he wanted to see them, so we went to Arlington. She was there."
Jess said, "Oh, Jimmy," and her voice was full of sympathy. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm gonna find her."
"You know, Jimmy, I've never interfered in any of your decisions, but I remember when you called me. You were a mess. I really don't want you to go through that again."
"I have to know, Jess, if this is it. You didn't give up until you had to."
She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder.
"Sean cheated on me, Jimmy, that's why we divorced. Not because I wanted it, but because he broke my trust. I don't want to be devil's advocate here, but she's done the same. Even if you find her, no matter how much you love her, it might not be enough."
"Sometimes it can be," he countered.
She stood up and pulled on his arm, but he didn't budge. "Come downstairs and have dinner, Jimmy."
When he still didn't stand up, she let go of his arm and walked to the door. She pushed it open, but hesitated a moment in the doorway. She looked back at Jimmy.
"I just want you to be happy, Jimmy."
He nodded. He said, "I know."
