The Oakland Cemetery was empty but for the private memorial; less than a dozen individuals dressed in black attire to mourn the unthinkable.
From a safe and wary distance, J.R. privately witnessed the service in the drivers seat of his Chevrolet Corvette. Positioned around the painfully small void in the soil, Sue Ellen was flanked by his mother and brother - Bobby's arm curled around her tiny shoulders, likely the only stability in her form - as The Lord's Prayer was performed in a most sombre but audible tone.
"For thine is the kingdom, the power and the Glory, for ever and ever. Amen." J.R. released the final word within a hindered breath, his chest heavy with melancholy for the loss of the little boy who had almost been his.
The body of mourners slowly dispersed from the burial site and J.R. shadowed the two black Mercedes into downtown Dallas. The sky above darkened into a turbulent, pink haze in the hours J.R. parked outside the two-bedroomed apartment his wife called home. The complex was visibly middle-class but Cliff and Sue Ellen had been a happy family of three with their son, if Pam were any reliable source. He drummed the wheel absent-mindedly and observed Barnes relatives and business associates arrive to pay their respects. After an hour or so, the inhabitants surfaced onto the street in pursuit of a visibly emotional Cliff. While Bobby and Pam made their best effort to prevent his escape, Kristin spied J.R. from the doorway and welcomed his presence with her sly smile.
Bobby and Pam disbanded to search for Cliff and, within minutes, Patricia and Kristin also made their departure from the apartment. As J.R. understood from second-hand information, Sue Ellen had received little contact from her mother once Aaron's paternity became public domain and it had required considerable effort to persuade her attendance at the funeral. It occurred to J.R. that only his mother remained with Sue Ellen, his family still her only real support system. "Goddamn, Barnes."
"J.R.," his mother failed to conceal her surprise at his arrival, as he loomed in the doorway of the apartment.
J.R. removed his Stetson and stepped over the threshold. "Mama," he quickly surveyed the room and noted her absence. "How's Sue Ellen?" There was a distinct and permanent emptiness that felt reminiscent of Southfork after Sue Ellen and Aaron had left.
"She's exhausted and I don't think it would serve her well to see you," his mother firmly replied. In all her years, Miss Ellie had never witnessed Sue Ellen in such distress. She folded a blanket neatly and placed the material upon the back of the sofa. "This is all such a mess," she muttered. Cliff had bolted, ironically in his fathers footsteps - Willard, too, had disappeared shortly after the burial - and J.R. had fractured his relationship with Sue Ellen too deep to be any source of comfort. "J.R., I don't think you should be here; Cliff may be back any minute."
Her son courteously bowed his head, "She is still my wife, Mama."
"It's a little late for a sense of marital duty, J.R.," Miss Ellie remarked, irritable. His behaviours were often reprehensible but it was his failure as a husband that truly disappointed Miss Ellie. Jock had set such a benchmark example for him and J.R. had always aspired to better his father in every aspect.
"That may be but I'm here and Barnes sure as hell isn't," he matched the forcefulness in her tone. He had rarely defied his mother so openly and certainly not for the sake of Sue Ellen. "Please, Mama, I won't upset her - that much I promise." His mother reluctantly and silently conceded to his request, which had transpired into more of a demand, and J.R. walked beyond her to enter the bedroom. Sue Ellen was sat at the foot of the bed but her body swayed back and forth ever-so-subtly, as if her spine had suddenly lost all structure. J.R. respectfully removed his Stetson. He had broken her heart too many times to count but this was so much more - Sue Ellen looked as if her heart had been ripped out of her chest and crushed; as if her soul had been buried with her son.
"She's been sedated," Miss Ellie attempted to soothe his concern. "She hasn't slept or eaten in days, so I called Dr. Danvers before the funeral."
"I suppose she's back on the bottle?" His voice was much harder than intended, as he placed a hand on Sue Ellen's shoulder and she unconsciously leaned into him, otherwise oblivious to his presence. Alcohol was her crutch, her instinctive response to any pain.
Miss Ellie shook her head in response; "No, Bobby and Pam emptied the apartment out and Bobby hasn't left her side once."
J.R. nodded his head, relieved, and crouched down to her level. "Sue Ellen, darlin'?" She was conscious but drowsy and disoriented, painfully reminiscent of her state after her son had been kidnapped from the hospital. Her shallow breaths struck the fear of God into him and he softly shook her a little. The physical sensation caused her eyes to focus on him and a whimper escaped her lips, as if the vision of him delivered her back into reality and she was forced to re-live the loss of her son.
"J.R…." she cried his name, and her sadness winded him like a sucker-punch to the stomach.
Somewhat relieved, Miss Ellie bowed her head - it was the first time Sue Ellen had spoken in days. She retreated from the room, as J.R. stroked Sue Ellen's hair and consoled her as best he could; "I'm here, honey." They had been separated for months but it was still normal to hold her in his arms and he still cared, in spite of his intention not to.
J.R. listened closely as her pitchy sobs started to resemble fragmented sentences. "This - - is my fa-ult. It's all m-my - fault."