Story: Checkmate
Chapter 12
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Previously: Liz told Abbey she knew about John and Jed's turbulent relationship; Abbey told her daughter that while she hates John as much as she does, they'd have to temper their feelings out of respect for Jed; while John recovered from his angioplasty in the hospital, Jed asked Abbey to keep an eye on his father overnight
Summary: Abbey learns more about John's relationship with a young Jed
Abbey walked softly into the room, catching the door as it creaked towards the latch. She turned then to face a scene that gave her pause. John would be sleeping, she had assumed. But he wasn't. In fact, he was sitting upright in his hospital bed, leaning forward over a miniature chess board that sat on his meal tray.
Surprised, she folded her arms over her chest and watched in silence.
"You're allowed to talk," John told her. "As you can see, I'm awake."
"What are you doing?" she asked, approaching.
He looked up at her, a knight twirling between his thumb and index finger. "Playing chess."
"I can see that, but why? It's 6 a.m. Why aren't you sleeping?"
"Have you ever tried to sleep in one of these beds, Abigail?" Abbey's gaze fell to the floor. "That's what I thought."
She glided her hands behind him to adjust his pillow. "You need your rest."
"I need to finish this game," he replied. "Do you play? If you do, pull up a chair."
Abbey shook her head. "No. I have patients I have to see."
Her abrupt answer didn't shock him. It was expected, in fact. Every time he and Jed hit a roadblock in their relationship, it fueled his daughter-in-law's animosity. There was no way to endear himself to her and he accepted that. But even though he gave up trying to win Abbey's trust, the hostility she spewed so openly gnawed away at him.
"Why did you come then?" he questioned sharply. "To check on me?"
"Yes," she admitted. "I wanted to see if you were doing okay."
"I am. So you can go call Jed and inform him that you've done your wifely duty." His voice dripping with disdain, John looked back at his board.
Abbey bit her lip. A useless attempt to stifle her response. "Don't do that. Don't talk to me like that. Jed may give you a pass, but I won't."
"I'm well aware of what you will and will not do," he returned with a stare so cold that it sent a shiver up Abbey's spine.
"What the hell does that mean?"
"I'm not an idiot. You're here taking care of me this morning, but I don't believe for one minute that there wasn't a small part of you hoping I wouldn't make it through yesterday's procedure."
She sputtered. "You think I secretly prayed for your death? My God, you really are a piece of work."
"So this is what they call bedside manner. Do they teach that in med school or are you just expected to learn how to be arrogant and superior when you get out?"
"I'm sorry. I certainly didn't mean to come across arrogant and superior. I was going for plain old bitchy."
"Yet another success."
"Do you need anything?"
"No." He watched as she turned from him and headed towards the door. Her hand was on the knob when he mumbled, "I guess I should thank you."
Abbey stopped. She sighed so deeply that he saw her back rise. Then, she spun around to face him. "For what?"
"You're going to make me say it?"
"Gratitude has never been a virtue of yours, John. You'll have to forgive me if I don't know what you're grateful for in this case."
"For recognizing what was happening that day at the hospital in Boston, for recommending Dr. Nolan...and for helping Jed get over his anger." There was a smidgen of self-awareness there. He realized Jed didn't owe him forgiveness.
"Don't thank me for that. Jed is the one who decided to give you another chance. It wasn't because of anything I said or did."
"No?"
"You raised a forgiving son, one who's extremely loyal...even to people who don't deserve his loyalty." It slipped from her mouth before she could stop it.
"Never miss an opportunity to take a shot at me, right?" She didn't answer, so he continued uninterrupted. "Have you ever wondered why it is that Jed and I don't get along or did you simply assume it was all my doing and Jed was completely blameless?"
"Your relationship with Jed turned sour when he was a child, so yes, I do think he was blameless."
"Children aren't always angels, Abbey."
"I swear to God, if you try to turn this around and make Jed the fall-guy for your abusive actions, I WILL do something we will both regret."
"Abusive? You can't hurt me with that. You and Jed throw that word around so often, it's lost its impact. Nothing Jed went through was abuse, regardless of what he's told you."
"This isn't about what he told me!" she shouted. "It's about what I've seen with my own eyes, what I've heard with my own ears."
"It's not an accurate depiction of the relationship between me and my son."
"He was a CHILD! He was an innocent child who looked up to you and depended on you to keep him safe. YOU betrayed that trust! How you can ever expect anything more than contempt from either one of us is beyond me."
"It's amazing that you have such insight into that relationship, considering the fact that you weren't there."
Abbey calmed herself as she walked towards him. She tilted her head when she spoke. "There are times when my heart still aches for that little boy you taunted for so many years. He was too young - too little - to defend himself."
"I NEVER taunted Jed. We didn't get along, but you make it sound like I was intentionally cruel to him. I wasn't." There was quite a bit of sincerity in his statement. John wasn't just saying the words. He actually believed them.
"If you honestly think you were a good, decent father to Jed, you're delusional."
Ignoring her, he picked up his bishop and returned his attention back to his game. "Do you play chess?"
Abbey raised her right brow. "Chess? We're talking about Jed and you're asking me if I play chess?"
"There's nothing for us to talk about as far as Jed is concerned. You've already made up your mind about me. You're not likely to believe I'm not a vindictive bastard, so..."
"No, I'm not likely to believe that. I've seen evidence to the contrary in the way you treated Elizabeth."
"Elizabeth? I've always adored Elizabeth."
"Is that why you played with her mind when she was five? You told her the only reason Jed and I wanted another child was because she wasn't good enough."
"I did no such thing!" John protested the allegation with renewed anger. "If that's how she interpreted what I said..."
"What did you say?"
"For God's sake, Abbey, it was nine years ago!"
"Think hard." Abbey's steely expression was unbreakable. Her eyes bore into his until he finally responded.
"I really don't remember."
"Then I'll remind you because I'm not likely to forget. She said she wanted a sister and you told her a brother would be better because she wouldn't have to worry about me ripping her toys and clothes out of her closet so I could give them to him. As if I'd ever do that."
"Some parents do."
"You said if she had a sister, she'd find herself in competition, fighting for my love, that I may play favorites and she may not win. Sound about right?"
"I don't remember, but it's possible I said some of those things," he confirmed softly.
"That day, nine years ago - the day Lizzie cried when she asked if I wanted another baby to replace her - that was when I knew that Jed was absolutely right. Before that, I thought maybe you had changed, but when you hurt my daughter..."
"I never wanted to hurt her."
"But you did!" Abbey snapped. "I'll never forgive you for undermining her security. Frankly, I don't know what's sadder. The fact that you told her that or the fact that you believe Jed and I couldn't love Lizzie just as much if we had another little girl."
"I never said you wouldn't love her. I know you would. But it's been my experience that parents tend to choose sides. They tend to have favorites, especially when siblings are competitive, and siblings of the same gender most often are. I was with my brothers and so was Jed with his."
"That's because of the way you raised them! Jed felt he wasn't good enough. He felt like he could never measure up to Jack."
"Jed came out of the womb feeling insecure."
"No he didn't. Children aren't born feeling inferior. In fact, they're born thinking the world revolves around them. It's only when manipulative adults brainwash them that they begin to feel unworthy."
"I thought you had patients you had to see." He fumbled with his game piece again.
"I should have known you'd shut down as soon as we got to the heart of the matter." Once again, Abbey began to walk away, but this time, she stopped herself. This wasn't over. It was her chance to talk to John without any distractions or interruptions. The opportunity was too tempting to pass.
"What?" he asked when she pulled up a chair to sit down beside him.
"I'm on a break."
"Then wander the halls."
"I'm comfortable here, thank you."
"I'm not."
"Then hit the call button and have a nurse rescue you because I'm not going anywhere. I'm not going to curl up and leave just because this discussion makes you uncomfortable." Her determination written all over her face, she glared at him.
It was an accusatory look, one that haunted him for several minutes as he gathered his thoughts and finally asked, "In that case, do you play chess?"
"I'm married to Jed. What do you think?"
John cleared the board and handed her all the pieces except the bishop he was still holding. "I'm responsible for Jed's interest in chess, you know. I tried to teach him as far back as grade school."
"You did?" That was news to Abbey. She challenged him. "How old was he?"
"Young. Very young. He used to watch me play with his uncles. Ever since we were kids, chess was the one game my brothers and I could play without fighting." It was the only time John Bartlet felt as smart as his siblings. He didn't have the exceptional GPA or the outstanding SAT scores, but what he had was skill. The chess board was his IQ test.
"And Jed wanted to learn?"
John nodded. "I was thrilled when he asked me."
"Because he was reaching out to you?"
His posture suddenly relaxed and he softened quite a bit. "I guess so. See, the night before, Jed and I had a fight, a bad one. Had to do with cleaning his room or some such nonsense. He talked back to me, the way he usually did when I yelled at him. He was only eight years old, but even at that age, that smart mouth of his always got him into trouble."
Abbey wondered if he had raised his hand to Jed during that fight, but she couldn't bring herself to ask. "What does that have to do with chess?"
"The next evening, I came home from work, worried that we'd just go for round two. Jed liked to try my patience and even though I hated losing my temper with him, sometimes, I just couldn't help it."
"What happened?"
"I walked in and there he was - sitting at the table with his eyes glued to the chess board, struggling to understand. He looked up at me and in the sweetest tone I've ever heard, he said 'can you teach me, Daddy? I wanna play like you do.'" A fresh layer of tears shined John's eyes.
Abbey swallowed past the lump that formed in her throat. She could see it so clearly in her mind, the image of a young Jed searching for his father's guidance, eager to please him and, yet, genuinely curious about the rules of the game. It overwhelmed her for a moment. But then, she recalled what Jed had told her - that he hadn't learned to play chess until college.
Confused, she pulled herself together and asked, "So you taught him?"
"I remember it like it was yesterday. Here I was, expecting to scream at him before I even put down my coat and instead, I never felt closer to him. I grabbed him, sat him on my lap, and showed him how to move across the board."
His forlorn attempt at a smile was marked with sadness. The ends of lips curved slightly, but what Abbey would never forget was the way they trembled when he finished talking. "Then what?"
"He listened, at first. But pretty soon, he decided he knew better than I did and he made a mess of the board. He moved kings where they weren't supposed to go. He trampled the pawns and moved them out of the way." John's grip tightened around the head of his bishop.
Of course he did, Abbey thought. "He was a little boy, John. He was eight. He was just playing."
"I wanted to teach him. For once, I wanted him to sit back and listen, but Jed...he just wanted to jump right in and do it. I was annoyed. Frustrated. I threw the board up in the air. The game pieces went everywhere. I screamed something at him...I don't remember what...and then I left the room."
"You just left him there, all because he showed a little bit of excitement? How could you do that?"
"He wouldn't LISTEN! I was angry and if I had stayed..." He took a deep breath. "...it would have made things worse."
"So you left. And Jed?"
"When I came back an hour later, he had set up the board like new, but he wasn't there."
"Where was he?"
John set up the chess board, sliding it so the white side was closer to Abbey. "Doing homework in his room. I didn't see him for the rest of the evening. We avoided each other. He didn't talk to me about chess again until he came home after his first year in college."
"He had learned to play by then." It wasn't a question.
"No, he hadn't," John corrected as he watched Abbey make her first move. "He set up the chess board and looked at me the same way he did as a little boy and he said 'I want to learn how to play, Dad.' I sat down across from him and we tried it again."
"Did it work out this time?"
"It did. He listened. He let me teach him in my own way. He picked it up rather quickly, in fact."
Abbey smiled. "I'm sure he did."
John took his turn and slid his rook towards her side of the board. "We played for hours that night. And then the next night and the night after that. It seems the only time Jed and I didn't fight was when we played chess."
Eerily reminiscent of John's relationship with his brothers. That's when it hit her. Abbey didn't dare destroy John's memory. She didn't dare tell him that Jed had already been playing chess. That his classmate, David Wheaton, had taught him at school. Though he had never shared this story with her, she knew Jed had lied to his father, probably to allow John the upper hand.
She pushed her pawn forward one more square. "Why do you think that is?"
"What?"
"The only time you don't fight with Jed is when you're playing chess. Why do you think that is?"
"I really don't know." John moved his piece.
"Who usually won when you guys would play?"
"Jed's good at many things, but I was the champion at chess." Though he'd never admit it to himself, that was the answer to the other question.
Without another word, Abbey understood. Jed was a member of the chess club at school. He knew the game like the back of his hand. She wondered if John really was better at chess or if Jed had finally learned the key to enjoying peaceful interaction with his father.
"I get the feeling you're proud of that story."
"I am. If you think I like the fact that Jed and I don't usually see eye-to-eye, you're sadly mistaken. I like that we can find common ground now and then."
"But you always ruin it."
"He does a pretty good job of that too, you know. Don't fool yourself into thinking this is all my fault."
"I'm not going there again. As far as I'm concerned, you were the adult when Jed was a child. If you had done things differently, maybe your relationship wouldn't be so dysfunctional now."
"That's a nice fantasy, but no matter what I did, I think Jed and I would still clash. It all comes down to the way we communicate."
"Then why have you tried to reconnect with him over the past few years?"
"Do you really have to ask me that? How would you feel if one of your girls cut you out of her life?"
"Jed didn't cut you out of his life. He just didn't know how to deal with you. It seemed like everything he did only angered you."
"Jed does infuriate me sometimes, but he's my son. He'll always be my son."
John stopped just short of proclaiming his love. Abbey noticed and curiously replied, "What was Jed's favorite color as a kid?"
"His favorite color?"
"I know everything there is to know about Lizzie, Ellie, and Zoey. I'm just curious if you ever knew Jed's favorite color."
"Green."
"It was blue. Still is."
John ignored the correction. "Your point?"
"The first day of seventh grade, he was assigned a top locker and he was too embarrassed to admit he couldn't reach the lock, so he carried his books around for months before he finally told his guidance counselor."
"He went to my school."
"That's right. You were the headmaster and you never knew that, did you? Didn't you ever see him carrying his books?"
"I assumed that was how he wanted it."
"Why in the world would he want to lug around ten textbooks all day long?" She pushed her pawn to his side of the board. "I now have two queens."
"Clever way to take my mind off the game."
"Jed is more important than this game."
"I never said he wasn't."
"He's scared of heights, fire, speed, and small places. Do you know why?"
"Jed never talks about his fears." John studied the board carefully as Abbey made her next move.
"When someone listens, he does. Did you know he can't stand the white cream in an Oreo? He sometimes twists the Oreo just to scrape it off. When he eats it whole, he has to have a glass of milk. You didn't know that, did you?"
"No, but I fail to see..."
"Did you know that he likes to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dinner occasionally?"
"Yes, I did know that. I used to make it for him when he was growing up. His mother always insisted he have a proper dinner, but if Jed was hungry afterwards, it was PB & J with bananas, just the way liked it. I must have made him that sandwich for him at least once a week."
"Did you know he can't sleep if his feet are completely covered by the blanket? It's strange, I know, but ever since he was a child, he had this thing where his toes have to peek out over the top or else he's up all night."
"I don't know what you're trying to prove, Abbey..."
"I'm just trying to make you understand that Jed never cut you out of his life. He couldn't have because you've never been a part of it, not even when he was a kid."
"Just because I didn't know the intricate details of his likes and dislikes doesn't mean I didn't care about him."
"To a child, it might very well seem that way."
"I doubt it ever even occurred to Jed."
"Children are extremely intuitive and they're pretty sensitive about things like that."
"We've never talked about it. He wouldn't have known I didn't pay attention to these things."
"Don't be so sure." When Abbey's queen threatened his king she exclaimed, "Check!"
"I'll get out of it," he replied confidentially.
"It doesn't matter since I can't stick around. My break's over."
"Then you forfeit."
"If it makes you feel better, yes I do." She stood and stuffed her hands in the pockets of her white coat. "By the way, Jed wouldn't have needed to ask you. He would have realized you know very little about him by your actions."
"How's that?"
"He can't have bananas in his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The combination always makes him violently sick."
John's shoulders fell forward. He leaned against his bed and once Abbey left the room, he swept the chess board off his tray. Abbey whirled around when she heard the crash from outside the room, but as soon as she stole a glance through the crack in the door, she surrendered to her instincts and walked away.
Two hours passed by the time Jed showed up later that morning. Abbey had stayed true to her promise, checking in on her father-in-law every half hour even after their 6 a.m. encounter. She had just left his room when Jed found her.
Standing with her back to him, she scribbled data on John's chart. Jed snuck up behind her and slid a single red rose to her front. "Good morning."
Abbey stepped to the side to face him. "I'm so glad to see you."
"I'm always glad to see you," he replied.
She buried him in her arms after she greeted him with a kiss. "It's been a long night."
"Abbey, is he..." He pushed her away.
"He's fine," Abbey assured him. "It's just been busy in here. That's all."
"So nothing happened? Nothing's wrong?"
She wanted to tell him about their conversation, but she figured that could wait for a more private setting. Instead, she smiled at her husband and said, "Nothing at all."
"You look upset."
"Sometimes, I miss you...a lot. I'm better now."
Jed snuggled up to her again. "Then let me take you to breakfast. You're done, right?"
"Not yet." She broke the hug. "I want to wait for Robert Nolan to start his shift in an hour. I'd like to check in with him."
"Then we'll go to the cafeteria. Maybe they have some leftover chocolate cake from last night."
"That sweet tooth of yours..." she teased. "Give me a few minutes, okay?"
"Okay. Can I go in to see him?"
"Of course. He's up."
"Thanks."
Jed blew her a kiss before he disappeared behind the door to John's room.
TBC
