I've always seen Jesse as a little brother.  As someone to protect, to keep the demons of the world from harming him.  Somehow, I feel I have failed.

Entering into the beach house to see him vulnerable and scared, I felt like I have failed.  I know I can't control what happens to him, but I like to think I can.  I guess the maternal instinct in me reaches beyond my boys.

When I entered and saw the tear stains on his face, wild horses couldn't have kept me from taking him up and trying to comfort him.  "Jesse, honey," I said.  He stiffened at first, probably from being hugged so much, but soon relaxed.

"Hi, Amanda," he says, sounding listless and broken.  I run a hand down his face, and he smiles, looking even more like a lost little boy.

"I'm here for you," I say.  He smiles again.  "Come here, you," I say again, as I envelope him with another hug.

I see Mark and Steve go to the kitchen, as much to talk as giving Jesse and me some privacy.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.  He closes his eyes, as a tear traces a well-worn path down his cheek.  I brush it away.   

"Shhh.  You have nothing to be sorry about," I say.

"Yes..." he starts, but I shake my head.

"No, you don't.  I've not gotten so depressed to attempt suicide, and I really haven't been depressed too much in my life, but I know it can be overwhelming."  That must have pushed a button for him, because soon, he begins sobbing again.  I can feel him grow weak against me, so I suggested he lie down on the couch.

He was asleep in 5 minutes.

Steve and Mark came back from the kitchen soon after.

"He cried himself out, so I told him to lay down for a little bit."

"Ok, he'll be asleep for a little while.  Steve and I have to talk to you," Mark said.  I follow both of them out to the deck.

"You know Dr. May?" Mark asked. 

The name sounded familiar.  "Yes, he works with eating disordered people.  And people who self... Jesse's been self-injuring?" I ask.

"He said he hits his arms until they're bruised," Steve said.  I can't believe it.

"Does he have an eating disorder?"  I ask.

"He says he hasn't been eating," Mark said.  I have noticed he's been looking a bit thinner than normal, lately.  But I thought with him working like he has been that he was just overworking himself and forgetting to eat.  Not purposely not eating.

I close my eyes trying to take this all in.  Poor Jesse!

~~*~~

Today, he went for his first session with Dr. May, or Dr. D. William May.  No one seems to know what the D stands for.  Jesse said it might mean dumb, um, well, you know.

"How'd it go?" I ask as he comes out.

"It went."  Silence.

I clear my throat, but don't say anything.

"What was that for?" Jesse asked.

"Allergies," I say quickly.  Jesse looks at me, not believing me, but he doesn't say anything.  "Um, how do you feel?" I ask, trying to fill in the uncomfortable silence.

"Numb.  Nothing new," he said, apathetically.

"Oh, did you hear that Meg is getting to come home for the day on the 4th?" I ask.

"Yes.  I'm glad.  She's also back at the gym, so she's gained 10 pounds."

"Yeah.  Do you want something to eat?" I asked.

"Um, not now.  I'm not hungry.  Maybe later," he said.  I knew he was lying, but I let it slide.  It's a delicate balancing act: to force enough to make him do what's right, but to not force so much to drive him away.

I would be on edge for the next few months.

~~*~~

It's July 4th. We all are out at the beach house with Ramona and Meg, with BBQ Bob's providing the food.  Meg is looking a lot healthier.  She doesn't look as pale, and a bit of healthy pink was sprayed on her cheeks.

Jesse was putting on a good show for Meg, but stealing glances at both of them, I saw that Meg knew everything wasn't kosher.  

I think she confronted him sometime later.

"She's looking much better," I remarked sometime to Mark.

"She is.  Her cheeks are pink, and not the stark white they were."

"I think Meg knows," I said.

"Knows what?"

"Something's wrong with Jesse.  She's been looking at him with concern," I said.

Mark nodded.  "I noticed that, too.  I think she talked to him."

"Me, too.  He looks, um, not happier.  A bit calmer, maybe."

"And maybe a bit happier.  Look," he said, gesturing towards Jesse, playing tackle football with Steve.  Steve just tackled him, and started to tickle him.  Peals of laughter rang all over, and my heart twisted.  How I have missed that sound!  Just as I felt a mist come over my eyes, Mark put his arm around my shoulders.

"I've missed it, too," he said.

"Let's go down and help him," I said.

"Who, Jesse?"

"No, Steve!"

~~*~~