Forgiveness
1:30am. Who on Earth is knocking at my door? Kathy grabbed her robe and tried to smooth her hair as she went to the door, and hoped she was decent. A quick check – camisole top, sweats, yeah, everything is covered. She got to the door, and looked through the peephole. Jack? What is he doing here? She opened the door. She had never seen him look so bedraggled. "I'm sorry to disturb you so late. Can I come in?"
"Um, sure yeah." She stood back and indicated for him to come in. "Hang a right through that door and go through the kitchen, can I get you anything? Soda, tea, water?"
"No, I'm ok." He saw the couch in the main room as he left the kitchen, and went to sit down. He perched, on the edge, and folded his hands in front of him, leaning his elbows on his knees as he often did while thinking. "I shouldn't be here. You are my assistant, not my counselor. I just don't know who else to trust."
She took a seat in the chair at Jack's left, and said, "It's ok. Obviously something is wrong if you're here at this hour."
Jack checked his watch, and started to stand. "Sit!" Kathy barked. He did, dropping back to the couch like his upper body was mere dead weight. "Do you know what today is?" he asked.
"April 22nd. Uh, Earth Day?"
Jack smiled quickly at her comment, and the smile faded just as fast. "Eight years ago this night, about this time, Claire Kincaid was struck by a drunk driver." His words hit Kathy and she regretted her stupid Earth Day remark. Too late now. He continued. "I have never been spun off my axis as I was that day. It's been years, and it feels like I'm beating my head on a wall, but never actually climbing over it. I heard your words when you told me of your parents, and I've tried to stop drinking, but this is one battle, one case I can't win." Jack's tired eyes confirmed the truth of his words, and Kathy knew this was only the beginning for him. He had a huge war to fight.
"Perhaps this isn't my place to say anything, but it seems like alcohol has been an anesthetic, not a cure all these years. You need more help than one person can give. Maybe you should have Lennie sponsor you."
Knowing what she meant, Jack suddenly sat up straight looking like he'd seen a ghost. "I... couldn't..."
"Jack, you are human, not a robot. You need other people. Admitting you have a problem is a sign of strength, not a weakness, despite what your dad taught you."
Jack's eyes bored into her with a mix of anger, sadness, understanding, and embarrassment. He had no idea he had said so much, and given so much of himself away. The anger faded as he realized he had done it all himself – after all, he was the one who showed up at her door to bare his soul. He realized he made himself uncomfortable since he wasn't in perfect control. "Can I unload on you a while?" he asked with almost a hangdog expression.
"Of course. I'm going to brew some tea – want any?" He nodded, and she left, returning shortly with two steaming mugs. He talked of Claire, of work, of growing up, failures and fears, real and perceived. He talked himself tired, and when he yawned like a cat about 3:30, Kathy stood up and said, "Wait a second". She went to her linen closet and retrieved a quilt. Without objecting, Jack tucked the couch pillow under his head and Kathy draped the quilt over him. He had barely closed his eyes when he fell into a sound sleep.
At 8:30 the next morning, he awoke to a faint waft of perfume and a gentle shake of his shoulder. He opened his eyes and saw Kathy. He was completely disoriented. "How did I...? You... We didn't...."
Kathy laughed. "No, you were so tired and drained I let you sleep on the couch. You don't remember?"
Then suddenly he did, and he sat up. He had poured out his heart to a relative stranger, who now knew things about him no one else did. He never had felt so vulnerable before. Kathy sensed this unease, and reassured him.
"Your secrets are safe with me. I don't betray a trust." She stood to leave and said, "Oh, and I got you covered this morning with Arthur. You went to visit a friend upstate and got caught in some nasty traffic, so you're running late." She took her apartment key off her ring. "Here – lock up when you leave. There's eggs and milk in the fridge, some Cheerios and bread in the pantry, help yourself." Jack looked at her, and to her eyes looked ten years younger, despite the frazzled hair and bags under his eyes. 55 years of pain and lying to himself couldn't be fixed in one night, but it was a start. "Oh, and Jack, you need to forgive yourself. Don't look at me like that – at least just say the words to yourself until you finally believe them."
He looked down at his hands, then back at her, still fidgeting. "Thank you. For everything."
"You're welcome. And I meant everything I said.... I'll see you at the office." With that she closed the door, and Jack was alone, not hung over, for the first time in what seemed like ever. He was terribly frightened, and she was right. The anesthesia was wearing off, and it was time to heal. He checked his cell phone for Lennie's direct line. "Detective Briscoe, it's McCoy.... Can we meet for lunch?"
1:30am. Who on Earth is knocking at my door? Kathy grabbed her robe and tried to smooth her hair as she went to the door, and hoped she was decent. A quick check – camisole top, sweats, yeah, everything is covered. She got to the door, and looked through the peephole. Jack? What is he doing here? She opened the door. She had never seen him look so bedraggled. "I'm sorry to disturb you so late. Can I come in?"
"Um, sure yeah." She stood back and indicated for him to come in. "Hang a right through that door and go through the kitchen, can I get you anything? Soda, tea, water?"
"No, I'm ok." He saw the couch in the main room as he left the kitchen, and went to sit down. He perched, on the edge, and folded his hands in front of him, leaning his elbows on his knees as he often did while thinking. "I shouldn't be here. You are my assistant, not my counselor. I just don't know who else to trust."
She took a seat in the chair at Jack's left, and said, "It's ok. Obviously something is wrong if you're here at this hour."
Jack checked his watch, and started to stand. "Sit!" Kathy barked. He did, dropping back to the couch like his upper body was mere dead weight. "Do you know what today is?" he asked.
"April 22nd. Uh, Earth Day?"
Jack smiled quickly at her comment, and the smile faded just as fast. "Eight years ago this night, about this time, Claire Kincaid was struck by a drunk driver." His words hit Kathy and she regretted her stupid Earth Day remark. Too late now. He continued. "I have never been spun off my axis as I was that day. It's been years, and it feels like I'm beating my head on a wall, but never actually climbing over it. I heard your words when you told me of your parents, and I've tried to stop drinking, but this is one battle, one case I can't win." Jack's tired eyes confirmed the truth of his words, and Kathy knew this was only the beginning for him. He had a huge war to fight.
"Perhaps this isn't my place to say anything, but it seems like alcohol has been an anesthetic, not a cure all these years. You need more help than one person can give. Maybe you should have Lennie sponsor you."
Knowing what she meant, Jack suddenly sat up straight looking like he'd seen a ghost. "I... couldn't..."
"Jack, you are human, not a robot. You need other people. Admitting you have a problem is a sign of strength, not a weakness, despite what your dad taught you."
Jack's eyes bored into her with a mix of anger, sadness, understanding, and embarrassment. He had no idea he had said so much, and given so much of himself away. The anger faded as he realized he had done it all himself – after all, he was the one who showed up at her door to bare his soul. He realized he made himself uncomfortable since he wasn't in perfect control. "Can I unload on you a while?" he asked with almost a hangdog expression.
"Of course. I'm going to brew some tea – want any?" He nodded, and she left, returning shortly with two steaming mugs. He talked of Claire, of work, of growing up, failures and fears, real and perceived. He talked himself tired, and when he yawned like a cat about 3:30, Kathy stood up and said, "Wait a second". She went to her linen closet and retrieved a quilt. Without objecting, Jack tucked the couch pillow under his head and Kathy draped the quilt over him. He had barely closed his eyes when he fell into a sound sleep.
At 8:30 the next morning, he awoke to a faint waft of perfume and a gentle shake of his shoulder. He opened his eyes and saw Kathy. He was completely disoriented. "How did I...? You... We didn't...."
Kathy laughed. "No, you were so tired and drained I let you sleep on the couch. You don't remember?"
Then suddenly he did, and he sat up. He had poured out his heart to a relative stranger, who now knew things about him no one else did. He never had felt so vulnerable before. Kathy sensed this unease, and reassured him.
"Your secrets are safe with me. I don't betray a trust." She stood to leave and said, "Oh, and I got you covered this morning with Arthur. You went to visit a friend upstate and got caught in some nasty traffic, so you're running late." She took her apartment key off her ring. "Here – lock up when you leave. There's eggs and milk in the fridge, some Cheerios and bread in the pantry, help yourself." Jack looked at her, and to her eyes looked ten years younger, despite the frazzled hair and bags under his eyes. 55 years of pain and lying to himself couldn't be fixed in one night, but it was a start. "Oh, and Jack, you need to forgive yourself. Don't look at me like that – at least just say the words to yourself until you finally believe them."
He looked down at his hands, then back at her, still fidgeting. "Thank you. For everything."
"You're welcome. And I meant everything I said.... I'll see you at the office." With that she closed the door, and Jack was alone, not hung over, for the first time in what seemed like ever. He was terribly frightened, and she was right. The anesthesia was wearing off, and it was time to heal. He checked his cell phone for Lennie's direct line. "Detective Briscoe, it's McCoy.... Can we meet for lunch?"