Story: The Nobel Laureate
Chapter 2
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Previously: Jed was surprised to learn Lizzie tried out for cheerleading instead of basketball; Ellie was upset when her times tables gave her trouble; Jed's brother, Jack, called with news about their father
Summary: Jed has an emotional few minutes with his father; Abbey tries to comfort her husband
Author's Note: I'm not sure if I should give this a rating or not, so I'm just going to warn you that it might be sad!
Feedback is always appreciated!
Growing up, Jed Bartlet had experienced his share of loss. From the deaths of his grandparents - all four before he graduated college - to the deaths of two aunts and one uncle, he had become familiar with the process of grieving. Never more so than in the months he grieved for his mother. It had been nine years since he said goodbye to the woman who gave birth to him. To this day, he could still remember the raw ache that bruised his heart and more than anything, wanted to avoid feeling that that kind of hurt ever again.
But that wasn't going to be possible and from the second he arrived at the hospital, part of him knew it.
In an isolated section of the ICU wing, his father lay pale and motionless under a tangled web of machines that beeped every annoying second. John looked to be comfortably sleeping, oblivious to those gathered around him. His hair was gray, his wrinkles pronounced. He had never looked so old, so worn and tired.
He had a stroke, Jack said when he called from the airport. Jed and Abbey immediately rushed to Boston, hoping for the best, fearing the worst. The doctors gave him a poor prognosis. Twenty-four hours of a critical window may be cut short at any moment, they warned. Complications could plunge his battered body into a coma.
Or worse.
"I don't even recognize him." Jed looked to Abbey who was standing across the room. "Can I touch him? Will it hurt him? Will it interrupt the machines?"
"No, it won't hurt him or cause damage. Go ahead and touch him. It'll be okay."
He precariously took his father's hand as he sat down in the cushioned chair by his bed. "Hey, Dad. I'm here."
A pang of guilt hit Abbey for intruding on this intimate moment. She stared at her husband for a minute longer, then asked, "Do you want some privacy?"
Jed shook his head. "It's fine. It's not like I'm gonna break down or anything."
"Okay." Unconvinced, she walked behind him and put a supporting hand on his shoulder while Jed continued to talk to John.
"So Jack's on his way. He's catching the first flight out of Cincinnati, but they've got some pretty terrible storms out there so it might take a while. I'll keep you company in the meantime."
It confused him that John didn't think to call him. He was only forty minutes away. Why Jack? Why would John have called the son who lived in Ohio? Before he vocalized that question, he stomped it down. It could wait for later, he convinced himself. Right now, his thoughts should rest solely with his father's health.
He dropped John's hand and stood up, walking in circles until Abbey quizzed him. "What is it?"
"I don't know what to say to him. He's just lying there looking helpless and I don't know what to say to make it better."
"You don't have to talk to him if you don't want to."
"I DO want to, that's the problem. It's just nothing seems good enough. Am I supposed to talk about my feelings? Am I supposed to tell him a story? A joke? What am I supposed to do to bring him out of this?"
"Jed."
"Don't. I know you're going to tell me that nothing I say will magically bring him out, but stroke victims survive. Many of them, worse off than he is, survive. There is something I can say. I know there is. I just haven't figured out what yet."
"I was just going to say that I would tell him the story you told me on the way over."
"He won't want to hear that."
"Sure he would."
"I don't know."
"Trust me."
He sighed then as he asked for reassurance. "You really think so?"
"Yeah." She sat beside him this time and when he touched John's hand, Abbey touched his.
"I'm not exactly sure if you want to know this, Dad, but Abbey says I should tell you and over the years, I've learned she's usually right about these things. If she's not, at least you know she's the one to blame, not me." The corners of his lips curved into a smile when he locked eyes with his wife. "Ever since Mom died, I've had dreams about her. Many times, she just appears to be there...at family functions, holiday get-togethers, things like that. But a few months ago, when you were sick and you and I were finally getting along, I had this dream where she came to me. Even in the dream, I was sleeping, but I could see what was happening. It was kind of creepy, actually. But anyway...I remember her standing above me, telling me she was glad that you and I made peace. That's all she wanted for her men - peace. And when I woke up, I could have sworn I smelled her perfume...you know the one she used to wear all the time? You said it always made her smell like a mixture of lilacs and roses. The scent only lasted a second and I was convinced I was imagining it, but...well, maybe I wasn't. I don't believe in that kind of stuff. But, for some reason, that dream gave me some comfort. It was nice imagining her up there, smiling proudly at us." He adjusted his grip on John's hand, weaving the older man's fingers into his. "The only problem is, I'm not as convinced as she was. I don't know if we made peace because we've never gotten through a whole year without some kind of fight. And then it was another five years of not speaking until the whole cycle started over again."
Abbey grew concerned when he stopped suddenly. "Jed?"
"I'm saying it in the past tense. Like it's not going to happen again. I don't know what's wrong with me." Jed relaxed his hold and continued. "I need you to wake up, Dad, because I want to end that cycle. I think we can, if we try. I don't know if you know this about me, but I don't like doubts. I hate having to guess..."
John's eyes fluttered slightly. His fingers twitched. He wanted so badly to clear his vision, but blinking away the cobwebs that clouded his sight was too much effort for the frail man. He wanted to speak. He wanted to say something, anything, to his son because deep in his heart, he felt what was happening. He fought for every second, every beat of his pulse that still held promise that he could offer words of solace before leaving his loved ones forever.
As Abbey ran to get a doctor and Jed urged his father to wake up, the machines flatlined, provoking a crowd of chaos that pushed Jed to the corner and forced Abbey to lead him out. He resisted despite her verbal and physical cajoling. His eyes widening in fear, he simply refused to leave.
"I'm not going anywhere," he repeatedly told her. "He's trying to communicate with me. Talking to him worked. I can't abandon him now!"
"Jed, please! You're not doing him or yourself any good!" Abbey begged him. From the deepest part of her being, she begged him. "We have to let the doctors do their job."
"I can't leave him." His mumbling words didn't stop her. She grabbed his upper arm with all her might and pulled him outside the room.
He surrendered. Probably out of shock, she assumed. But it didn't matter why. Protecting him from the emotional trauma of seeing his father in this condition was her only motivation at this point.
His ragged breaths frightened her. She held on to his hands, squeezing his palms when he tried to turn from her and peek inside. He was forced to face her instead. Looking her squarely in the eye while they waited, Jed then bore his soul through the tears that soaked his long dark lashes.
Unable to concentrate on anything but her, he said, "Tell me he's not going to die."
She wanted to wrap her arms around the man she loved and assure him everything would be okay. But that wasn't an option. She took the deepest breath of her life, then replied, "I wish I could."
"You can. You can. Please tell me. There's so much more I want to say to him. There's so much I need to hear from him. I just need a little longer. Tell me he isn't dying." His desperation came out in every syllable of his plea.
"I wish..."
The hitch in her voice gave him an opportunity to interrupt. "Don't wish. Just do it."
"Jed."
"Better yet, help him. You're a doctor, Abbey. You save people all the time. I've seen you do it. If you can't be sure he's going to survive, then help him. Go in there and help them save him. Please."
"Oh, Honey." The stunning request tugged at her heart. Her stomach turned when she thought about what she was about to say. "I can't."
"Yes, you can. Fix it. Put aside your feelings about him and just do it. Do it for me. Please."
A lump in the back of Abbey's throat nearly hushed her. But she fought past it, clinging to his hands tighter than she had ever before. "Listen to me. I don't even work at this hospital. We have to let the other doctors do their job. There's nothing I can do for him."
"Stop saying that!" he snapped at her as he lifted his arms to disconnect their fingers. "You're an MD! You went to medical school! Don't tell me there's nothing you can do! You can fix it. You can make him better. You're an amazing doctor. You can do anything you set your mind to."
"Jed, I'd give anything to be able to do this for you. But this...what's happening to him right now...it's beyond my control."
He calmed himself slightly. The tears she could see in his eyes weren't trailing down his cheeks. He blinked back each and every one before they dared to emerge from those twinkling baby blues. "Then just tell me he isn't gonna die. Not yet. Not today."
Biting down on her lower lip, she dropped her gaze to the floor, her head shaking in response. "It's too soon for anyone to know that."
She had just taken away the glimmer of hope he had left and with it's absence, a stabbing pain ripped through her body, causing her arms to tremble. She reached out to him, then withdrew when he ignored the gesture and began to pace the linoleum floor.
"I should be in there." Jed looked to the door that was closed to his intruding stare. Not even a small window gave him a peek.
"You'd only get in the way. His doctor will be out here to talk to us as soon as possible."
"All these months, it was his heart I was worried about. I never thought to ask about the condition of the arteries to his brain."
"It all stems from the same thing. The stent he had put in didn't cure him of the underlying problem. Atherosclerosis isn't uncommon..."
"Abbey, please save the medical jargon, okay? I can't deal with trying to decipher it today. I just want someone to tell me he's going to get through this. And no one - not ONE person - can do that!"
He turned towards her once more. This time, he was overcome by the misery he could see written all over her petite frame. Her right hand was resting against her mouth, her fingers curling along her lips while a single teardrop left a track of mascara in its path. Such anguish, all because she knew there was nothing she could do to rid him of his pain. Without a second thought, he opened his arms to her, sheltering her with the comforting embrace only he could offer.
"I don't know if he's going to make it," she said softly, her voice muffled by his shoulder. "You have no idea what I'd sacrifice to tell you want you want to hear."
"It's okay. He'll make it. He's strong. And he knows...he knows I need him with me a little longer. Just a little longer. I know you hate him, but..."
"Shhh. Let's not talk about that right now." Her hands gathered securely around his neck, Jed dipped his head along the side of her neck as Abbey held him closer. They shifted a little and it was clear to both of them that now, she was the one comforting him.
John Bartlet lost his fight that day. It didn't take very long for doctors to declare a time of death and then exit the room to notify Jed. He absorbed the news while still clutching Abbey. His arm crisscrossed hers, following a trail across her back and hugging the groove at her waist. Abbey snuggled into his chest so her body could stabilize his in case he lost his balance or swayed from the grief. But he didn't. He stood stoically, not a smidgen of emotion escaping his tough facade. Even the tears that had been there seconds earlier were evaporating without replacement.
Jed had said many times that his father didn't like him. When he was alone, he prayed that deep down, that was all a sham, a misunderstanding born from a lifetime of rippling outbursts. But even if it was true, it wouldn't have mattered today. Regardless of their tumultuous relationship, Jed would have moved mountains to give the man who gave him life one more day to live his.
John's last few minutes on Earth haunted him all the way home. He wasn't at peace. Not the way Jed thought he was, not the way Jed had hoped. He was struggling as he teetered on the brink of death. The fluttering eyes, the quivering hand - these were things Jed would never forget. They were memories now, etched in his mind forever.
Abbey drove up the long, gravel driveway that led to the farmhouse. She stopped the car and hopped out of the driver's seat to help Jed, but by the time she made it to his side, he was already up. A tad shaky, yet silent, he took the hand she offered and the two walked side-by-side through the front door.
After saying goodbye to the neighbor who came to sit with the girls, Abbey sat beside Jed on the sofa. "You haven't said anything since we left the hospital."
"There's nothing to talk about," he replied quietly. "Did Anita say the girls are in bed?"
"Yeah. It's pretty late."
"How late?"
She glanced at her watch. "Eleven."
"We were gone that long?" He had lost track of time. Abbey didn't bother reminding him they spent three hours walking around the hospital before Jed was finally ready to say goodbye.
"I guess we were," she said.
"How long have they been asleep? We didn't tuck them in. Zoey can't sleep without a story. Ellie likes to read to us every night. And Lizzie...I'd love a goodnight kiss from Lizzie tonight."
"They went to bed a while ago, Honey. We should let them sleep. We'll have to tell them what happened tomorrow."
"What about Ellie's multiplication tables? You and I were supposed to help her with her sixes."
"It's not like she'll be going to school tomorrow."
"Great. We're three weeks into the school year and already they're going to be missing days."
"It's unavoidable. Ellie, especially, isn't going to want to go school when she finds out. Besides, I'll call their teachers and get their homework assignments. We won't let them fall behind."
"Did they eat dinner?"
"I made dinner before I went to pick up Ellie this afternoon. When I called from the hospital, Anita said they ate most of it, except, of course, the vegetables. She put the leftovers in the fridge." Abbey caressed his thigh. "I'll go warm you up a plate. I bet you haven't eaten since lunch."
"I'm not hungry."
She stood up anyway. "Then maybe just some soup or something."
"Nothing," he insisted. "I'm not hungry."
"Can I get you anything at all? Water?"
"No."
"Okay."
She walked behind him, her hand sitting on his shoulder until she positioned herself just right to loosen up the muscles in his upper back. Jed knew what she was doing. Her fingers had worked their magic numerous times throughout their marriage. Usually, her touch was all it took to help relieve the tension and allow him to drift off to sleep.
That wasn't going to happen this time. Sleep wasn't even a possibility. Instead, he covered her fingers with his, then brought her palm to his lips, kissing it tenderly.
"Just sit with me," he asked her. Once she reclaimed her seat, he propped his legs up on the cushion and pulled her back against his frame so she was reclining over him. "Tonight, just let me hold you. That's all I really want."
Their limbs tangled around each other, they remained like that all night. No words were spoken between them. Only the sound of their breathing filled the air until morning.
TBC