Series: Snapshots of the Past
Story: Back Home Again
Chapter 7
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Previously: Jed emotionally shut down following the death of his mother
Summary: Abbey tries to get through to Jed after he leaves his father's house full of anger and guilt
- - -
The house was crowded with a sea of emotional guests all there to pay their final respects following the funeral. The turnout would convince a more ignorant person that Diane Eleanor Bartlet was loved by the masses, but truth be known, most of the people sobbing for her lost life were only acquaintances of the family, people who never really knew the real Bartlets.
Jed scanned the room of mourners. Some faces belonged to long-lost relatives whom he hadn't seen or talked to since he moved out of his parent's house. Others were people he wasn't sure he had ever even met before. But the one face Jed's eyes were continuously drawn to was that of his father.
John was good at playing the grieving husband, but none of the tears or grief-stricken eulogies would convince him there was a wounded heart inside. To him, John was nothing more than a cold, bitter man filled with hate and driven to extremes by his hostile tendencies.
He exchanged a glance with Abbey and left the house, opting for quieter surroundings on the front porch. He lit a cigarette and began to puff away as she opened the door to join him.
"Hi."
He held the cigarette in front of him defiantly. "You're not going to talk me out of this."
She knew that. His only consolation today was the disgusting habit she had tried to rid him of for years. "I wasn't going to try."
He accepted her surrender and brushed the light dusting of snow off the window sill as he leaned up against it. "I can't go back in there."
"I wish I could say you didn't have to. But Jack and Kellie are worried about you."
He let out a bitter laugh, laced with sarcasm and hurt. "I see my brother once every few years. He doesn't even live on the East Coast. I talk to him once every six months, and all of a sudden, he and his wife act like we're inseparable."
"I didn't mean..."
"I know. I'll talk to him, don't worry." Abbey nodded but didn't verbally respond to his melancholy mood. "It's funny, isn't it? We can invest trillions of dollars to put a man on the moon but a doctor can't detect a bulge in a person's chest during a routine medical exam."
"Jed..."
"He should have listened to her. She told him countless times she was in pain. He never listened."
This is what Abbey feared. Jed had enough reasons to hate his father. Blaming his mother's death on him would just be the straw to break the camel's back. "He couldn't have known..."
"He should have known!" he shouted. "If you told me you were hurting, I would do something. He did nothing."
"Honey, I know you're angry. You're angry at your father, you're angry at your brother, you're angry at her doctors, and for reasons beyond my understanding, you're angry at me."
"See that's where you're wrong." He pulled the cigarette away from his lips and crushed it under his foot. "I'm not angry at you."
Jed turned sharply and opened the door, his frame frozen solid at the sight in front of him. Abbey peered in over his shoulder and shared his dismay at the scene of John sitting on the sofa with Elizabeth in his lap. He ran his hand down the length of her hair, separating the strands with the tips of his fingers.
Guests crowded behind them, momentarily blocking Jed and Abbey's view and forcing them to tilt their heads to see Liz turn in her grandfather's arms and plant a kiss on his cheek. Jed took a step closer to the duo, but was jerked back by Abbey. She kept one hand on him and one eye on her daughter until they were all alone.
He paced the hardwood floors with a glass of scotch in his hands, occasionally taking a sip in between receiving condolences and saying goodbye to well-wishers. As the last couple left the house, he closed the door and faced his father with steely eyes harboring years of resentment.
If looks could kill...
"How long can you stay?" John asked.
"Abbey's waking Lizzie right now. We have to get back."
"I'd like to see her again - Elizabeth."
It wasn't likely, but now wasn't the time. "Maybe."
"I'd like to spend some time with her. Your mother...she never got to know her – her own granddaughter and she never really knew her." There's nothing like a touch of guilt to make a point.
"Lizzie's busy with school this time of year."
"She's in kindergarten," he countered. "How busy can she be? Anyway, she tells me she gets to see her other grandparents frequently."
"Abbey's parents live only ten minutes from us. You live an hour away."
"Not for long," he mumbled just loud enough for Jed to hear.
"What?"
"This house is too big, especially without Diane. She and I still have that property in Randolph. I'm thinking about making a move."
"Why? Just to see Lizzie?"
"And my new grandbaby. That is, after Abbey gets pregnant again." Jed swallowed back the anger that threatened to erupt and instead, shot him a look of confusion. "Jack told me." John backed up towards the couch and collapsed down onto the cushion. "So when do I get to see her?"
"Never," he replied bitterly.
He wasn't surprised, but he had prepared for his son's stubbornness. "Think about Elizabeth. She never got to meet her grandmother and now she's dead. The only memory she'll ever have is this funeral. Don't deprive her - or me - of the right to get to know one another. Don't do to me what you did to your mother."
"What I did..."
"The stress of your abandonment..."
"What?" His reaction was almost a laugh at the absurdity of his father's statement.
"She wanted to see you."
"You're going to lecture me on being a bad son?" His voice was strong, his body rigid as he glared into John's eyes.
"No. There's been enough blame. All I want is what Diane didn't get to have. Resolution. A relationship with you. With Abbey and Elizabeth. I want a family."
Despite his best efforts, it was difficult for Jed to ignore the spark of hope John's words ignited deep within his soul. He prayed to hear those words every night when he was a teenager only to have his optimism fade away in the morning light. Maybe now was the time.
As Abbey walked down the stairs, Jed forced his gaze away from his father and focused on his wife. He took a sleepy Liz from her arms and with a hasty, impersonal goodbye, he left.
He remained quiet on the drive home, only interrupting the soundless refuge to ask if she needed him to stop anywhere. She held his hand in hers and stroked his fingers gently. He reveled at the uncanny ability she always had to make him feel at ease without uttering a single word.
The silence in the car was acceptable, but once he put Liz in her bed after they arrived home, he knew it was time to talk. Abbey sat at the kitchen table, her hands folded under her chin expectantly.
"She's exhausted. I think she's going to sleep straight through." It was a lousy attempt at avoiding her stare. "What?"
"I'm just worried about you."
"No need to be." Jed pulled a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with tap water. He set it on the counter without ever taking a sip. His hands rested on either side as he took a deep breath. "Did you tell Jack we were planning for another baby?"
"I told Kellie we had discussed it. Why?"
He turned towards her, his face unreadable. "My father knows."
"What did he say?"
"He said now that we're extending our family, he wants to spend more time with Lizzie, with me, with you. He wants us in his life."
Knowing Jed as well as she did, Abbey always suspected Jed would give anything to capture his father's interest. She tried to restrain the smile that immediately curved her lips, but to no avail. "Is that a bad thing?"
No doubt about it, he was annoyed with the question. "Of course it's a bad thing."
"I just mean maybe...maybe he's changed. And it would be good for Lizzie to get to know him - with one of us there, of course."
"I was Lizzie's age the first time he hit me."
Abbey shifted uncomfortably in her chair at the image of John Bartlet ever hurting her husband and the possibility that he could hurt her daughter as well. "I'm so sorry."
"He'll never change. The only way to deal with him is to get away from him, if you're lucky. If you're not, you're trapped with him forever while you watch everyone else leave and never look back, ostracizing you in an effort to escape him."
He was different. The bitterness he held inside was no longer restrained by the tolerant veneer he had been using to mask his anger. His eyes no longer stared at her. They were vacant and narrow, reflective of the endless questions she knew were lingering in his mind.
"It wasn't your fault," she said firmly.
Jed blinked a few times and shook his head to regain his focus. "What?"
"Your mom. You hadn't talked to her in years. She called just last week. I know because I took the message. You never called her back, did you?" His silent response was her confirmation. She stood up and approached him. "You had no way of knowing."
"I don't want to hear that right now."
"Well, you're going to have to...because you've managed to bury all your emotions deep inside yourself and that guilt that's eating away at you, it's not going to go away by itself."
"You have no idea how I'm feeling. You haven't got a clue." Though his words may have been sharp, his voice was still calm.
"You're right. I haven't been where you are, but I know that since this whole thing happened, you haven't shed a single tear." He rolled his eyes at her observation, but she didn't back down. "Why?"
"You tell me. You claim to know me better than I know myself. You tell me why I haven't found it in me to cry. Tell me why I can't bring myself to mourn for the woman who gave me life." There was more of a twinge of hostility now. He was unmistakably irritated, but she held her ground.
"Because it's so much easier to pretend. You can't bring yourself to grieve, Jed. You refuse to do it because grieving for her would mean that you give a damn and that's the last thing you want. You don't want to admit it with her and you sure as hell don't want to admit it with him."
"What does my father have to do with this?"
"He made you leave. He made you leave that house and he made you leave your mother. It's because of him that you're angry with yourself and you hate him even more for that."
"See, this is one of those times when you don't know me better than I know myself. They exist. I know you think they don't, but they do." He walked around her as she spun on her heels to follow. "I'm not mad because he made me leave. I'm mad at her because she let this happen. She let him do what he did, she let him get away with treating all of us - me, Jack, and even her - like trash. She never stood up to him. That's why she died without any of us there. That's why she died without ever getting to know her granddaughter, without me ever taking her call." His voice caught in his throat at the first visible expression of remorse and grief. He continued with a harsher voice that was much louder than it had been. "One of the last things she did before she left this world was reach out to me and I didn't reach back." His anger and sorrow collided as he slammed his fist into the wall. A few tears flowed freely without any attempt to stop them. His features crunched up at the wave of regret that came from deep inside. "Oh God. Why didn't I reach back?"
Abbey gingerly approached him from behind and wrapped her arms under his, pulling them up towards his chest. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
She kissed the back of his neck tenderly, refusing to let go when the onslaught of gut-wrenching sobs caused his body to shudder against hers and collapse to the ground.
She lay on top of him, holding him tighter as he moved against her hold until he finally relented. He could have escaped her grasp if he wanted to, but deep down, that wasn't what he wanted. Her touch was the only thing that kept him from losing complete control, that kept him sane amid the outcry of anguish and heartbreak that seeped within him.
- - -
The morning light shone through the windows. Abbey closed her eyes tightly before opening them wide. They had fallen asleep in that position -- Jed on the floor, curled up beneath her, her arms wrapped securely around him, comforting and consoling him. She untangled their arms and sat on the carpet beside him allowing her finger to trace his profile adoringly. He stirred slightly and opened his eyes to narrow slits.
She held her hair back as she bent down to kiss his cheek. "Hi."
"Hi." His eyes were red and puffy. They ached from the dryness that came after his barrage of tears.
"How do you feel?"
"Drained. And tired."
She reached out her hand to help him sit up. "I'm not surprised. Last night was the first night you actually slept in days." He expected her to know that. Though she tried to make it through the night, she could always tell when his warm body wasn't sleeping next to her. "It's going to take some time to work through everything. And I'll be right here every step of the way. But right now, lets pile you into bed while I jump in the shower."
With their arms joined, they stood up together. Usually strong and sturdy, Jed's body hung forward, a result of his exhaustion. Abbey guided him to the bed and pulled back the covers. She fluffed his pillow and tucked him in with the same care she always used with their daughter before retreating into the bathroom to begin her morning.
- - -
Elizabeth took her usual spot on the kitchen counter. Her hair spilled over her head as she leaned forward to look into the muffin tray and admire the raw sticky dough cluttered with blueberries.
She leaned up long enough to catch Abbey's attention. "Can I have a blueberry?"
"Not until it's cooked."
"Why?"
"Because raw dough is bad for you. Besides, it'll spoil your breakfast."
Her eyes closed with disappointment only momentarily. Her old spark was back the second Jed wandered in to the kitchen. "Hi, Daddy!"
"Good morning, Angel!" he scooped her up into his arms as he dipped his finger into the raw muffin dough and licked it clean.
"Daddy's eating the muffin mix," she giggled.
"Jed."
He wagged his finger at Liz. "Fink." It was said softly enough that he could turn an innocent eye to Abbey only seconds later. "What?"
She shook her head, unable to hide her amusement. "I just told Lizzie she can't have any. It's not safe."
"I know you think that, but there's no definitive proof of raw eggs responsible for illness. Besides, it's tasty." He dipped another finger into the dough and offered it to Liz.
"When you're finished making a mess of it, could you please put it in the oven?"
He opened the oven door and popped the tray inside. After closing it, he set his hands on the counter to trap Abbey in front of him. "Thank you...for last night."
"Why aren't you still asleep?"
"I heard you and Lizzie out here. I just wanted to be part of the action."
She playfully smacked his chin and maneuvered her arm under his to handle the skillet on the stove. "You feel like eggs this morning?"
"Sure. But we had eggs yesterday. Doesn't that go against some heart-healthy rule or something?" This was the Jed she knew and loved. His mood had lightened. Maybe not drastically, but at least he was back to teasing her again.
"This is something new." She pulled herself away from him to rinse a bowl in the sink. "They're egg substitutes."
"Substitutes?" he and Liz asked together.
"Why do eggs need to be substituted?" Jed continued.
"Because the real thing is bad for you."
There it was -- that infamous eye-roll she was sure he would give in response. "Am I ever going to be able to take you away from the evil lessons they're teaching you in med school?"
She let out a halfhearted laugh. "I'm afraid not," she replied, remembering he still had no idea of the harassment she was facing at the hospital.
"I want to run something by you," he said, interrupting her thoughts.
"Go for it."
"I'd like to maybe...I just think that there are too many regrets..." She nodded her head, encouraging him to go on. "I'd like to...invite my father over for Thanksgiving dinner. Is that okay?"
She sympathetically swayed her head to the side as a moment of silence passed through the room. "Jed, you don't need my permission to invite anyone over."
"Yeah, but I want your opinion. Would it be okay? I mean, would you feel uncomfortable with him here?"
"If you're comfortable with it, then so am I." She continued to scramble the eggs but was drawn to him once more when he didn't move. "And I think it's a lovely thought," she added with a hint of reassurance in her voice and a stroke of his cheek.
He placed his hand over hers and smiled softly. He was still unsure whether or not he was headed down a path of self-destruction, but with Abbey's support, the outcome, whatever it was, would be easier to tolerate than it ever had been before.
TBC
