J.R. stretched out on two white wicker chairs on the patio which overlooked the pool and allowed the Texan sunshine to beat onto his face. Rarely did he retreat home from the office so early but the business day had shrivelled into sour disappointment. As he quenched his thirst on his mother's homemade lemonade, an unfamiliar vehicle advanced into the drive.
She arose from the drivers seat, sublime in a white blouse tucked into three-quarter khaki pants. J.R. whipped the rose-coloured shades away from his face and rose to his feet, the first to receive her unannounced arrival, "Sue Ellen."
"Hello, J.R.," Sue Ellen brushed the wisps of brunette from her eyes, which softly squinted away from the sunbeam. Her mass of hair had been brushed into a relaxed beehive-style bun, and she looked the healthiest she had been for quite some time. "I - uh - called the office. Sly said you went home for the day," she explained, and his curiosity arose with the realisation that she was there for him.
"Even the devil himself takes a day off, darlin'," J.R. playfully remarked, before his serenity returned. "What can I do for you?"
Sue Ellen forced a small and pleasant smile onto her lips in response. "Actually I came by to say thank you." J.R. raised his head, inquisitively. "You and Miss Ellie took such care of me after Aaron's funeral; I never did have the chance to tell you how much I appreciated the support." Any memories of the day she buried her son had thankfully been obliterated, a blur of raw emotion, but some details were visible in the haze; J.R.'s arms wrapped around her narrow shoulders, enveloped in his love. "I'm not sure I deserved such fine treatment from you," she readily admitted, for once stood tall and almost unashamed of herself. In the weeks that followed Aaron's death, she had committed to a period of self-reflection on the downward trajectory her life had taken in recent years.
J.R. uneasily shifted his balance from one foot to another - he rarely found himself in the position of martyr but, by all accounts, he had been one in Sue Ellen's hour of need. Afterward, too - he directed Harv Smithfield to ensure their divorce was finalised as swiftly and painlessly as possible. Sue Ellen received more-than-adequate provision via the settlement and J.R. had the records sealed to prevent further humiliation for all parties. "You were my wife for ten years, honey, part of this family - we look after our own," he offered weak rationale for his uncharacteristic behaviours.
"Well… anyway, I am grateful," she stipulated, undeterred. Beneath his stone-wall exterior, J.R. suffered from a deep sense of self-depreciation, which she had been privy to once or twice in all their years as husband and wife. "Is Miss Ellie home?"
"No, Daddy took her to Galveston for a couple days," J.R. kicked the toe of his foot into the deck. Unbeknownst to many outside of the family, Jock and J.R.'s relationship had been strained since the paternity suit and had reached break-point after Aaron's death; the source of Jock's disappointment was J.R.'s weakness in response to the threat Cliff and Sue Ellen had posed to their family.
Sue Ellen nodded her head, as she processed the information, mildly disappointed. "I see. Well, when she returns, would you have her call me? I would love to take her out for lunch soon. She can reach me at The Sheraton hotel."
"The Sheraton," J.R. spat out in repetition, his curiosity evoked.
Her eyes narrowed, almost unconsciously; very little happened in Dallas that J.R. didn't know about but this seemed to be one of those rare phenomenons. "You didn't know - Cliff and I are separated." It became apparent that J.R. most definitely did not know and Sue Ellen softened, "It was… too hard for both of us." The loss of Aaron revealed their love to be somewhat artificial. In his absence, it was obvious how little else she and Cliff shared in common.
J.R. harrumphed, "Well, I'd be lyin' if I said I was sorry." He stopped short of his usual verbal attack on Cliff and refocused his concern for her emotional state. He didn't think Sue Ellen had ever lived alone. "You keepin' well?" Sue Ellen flashed a smile of reassurance. "Whatever you need, you know where to reach me."
"You've been more than kind, J.R.," she had become involuntarily accustomed to the kindness he had only shown her in the earlier years of their relationship. "Well, I - I have somewhere I need to be but I do want to say thank you again for all that you've done." Bravely, she closed the distance between them and planted a delicate kiss on his cheek.
"Take care of yourself, you hear?" J.R. called after Sue Ellen, as she hastily retreated away from Southfork, and he recalled their last conversation on the day of Aaron's funeral.
The reassurances J.R. did his best to provide Sue Ellen with were unheard and met with self-destructive defiance. "The-se are m-y sins," she choked on every word in between sobs and a desperate battle to breathe. The mathematic formula was easy to see - her infidelity had been a moral sin, irrespective of the rationale, and this was her punishment.
"Darlin', if anyone deserves to be punished, it's me. It doesn't work like that," J.R. weakly remarked. He didn't fear God the way his mother did; J.R. saw life as his very own business deal and he would be damned if any entity held him on His terms and conditions. "What happened to Aaron is terribly sad but you are not to blame for his death. If anyone, Barnes -" J.R. stifled his inherent hatred for Cliff, certain that it would not lessen her heartache.
"If he had been yours -" He held her in his arms and it almost felt real, like they could have made it.
J.R. caressed her cheek with his hand and softly positioned his thumb over her lips. Every ounce of him prayed the baby had been his son, if only for appearances sake at one point. "I know, darlin' - I know."