Series: Snapshots of the Past

Series: Snapshots of the Past

Story: The Nobel Laureate

Chapter 33

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Previously: Jack lost his temper with Brad which led to an explosive argument in front of Liz

Summary: Jed and Jack try to bury the hatchet and help each other deal with their troubled childhood

"Son of a b --"

Of the many customs during Nobel week in Stockholm, there's one that irritates laureates more than any other - those dreaded patent leather shoes they're required to wear for the ceremony.

Jed, like his peers, had managed to find a pair before arriving in Sweden, but he had tucked them away in his suitcase and ignored Abbey's reminders to scuff the bottoms. So now, on the morning of the rehearsal, he sat alone in the courtyard, his shoe gripped tightly in his hand as he scraped the slippery sole against the concrete.

"Dad?"

He looked up to see Liz towering over him. "These are indestructible shoes, Lizzie, made by some neurotic sadist who somehow knew that if I couldn't scuff them up, I would end up doing a header down the grand staircase at the Stockholm City Hall tomorrow night, and fall face-down into the Queen's lap. He knew and he simply didn't care. In fact, he was probably amused by the possibility."

"So you're having problems?" She grinned.

"Wipe the smirk off your face." He continued to work. "Where's your mother?"

"She's still out with Millie, Kellie, and Jenny."

"Good. You need to give me a heads-up when she gets back."

"Why?"

"Because if she sees me out here, she'll lecture me about procrastination and that's the last thing I want - or need - right now."

"Why are you doing it in the courtyard anyway?"

"Because the press is lining the sidewalk just looking for a shot like this. A few months ago, I could have been mauled by a pack of wild dogs back home and I'd barely get a mention on the news. Here, if a drop of tomato sauce dribbles off my pasta, the Swedes break in with special programming."

Laughing, Lizzie admitted he was probably right. "Why bother scuffing them up though? What would happen if you wore them as they are to the rehearsal and just walked really slowly?"

"I'd probably slip and slide until I fell flat on my ass in front of a crowd of cameras."

"That's not good."

Jed glared up at her. "No, it's not."

"What if they're not ready to wear by the time you have to leave?"

"One problem at a time. Hopefully, by tonight, they'll be ready to go."

"Here, I'll help you." Liz sat down beside him and picked up the other shoe.

"You don't have something else you'd rather be doing?" She shook her head. "Okay, what's up?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm sure there are a billion places you still want to see around town and instead of going out with your mother or begging me to let you go by yourself, you're sitting here on a beautiful Saturday afternoon scuffing up my shoes, so something has to be up. What's up?"

She had come looking for him, prepared to tell him all about the disturbing scene she witnessed with her Uncle Jack the night before. But when she opened her mouth to answer his question, she hesitated. "Nothing," she said instead. "I just don't want you to fall."

Jed didn't buy it. "Oh, I get it." He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You want to ask about Sven. You're buttering me up."

Liz chuckled. "Not really. But since you brought it up..."

"Uh huh."

"His parents are always invited to the awards ceremony so he'll be there tomorrow night. Afterwards, when you and Mom go to the ball, there's a dance in one of the adjoining rooms. It's for teens only and it lasts till 11. It's chaperoned and everything." She paused to let him absorb the information and quietly, she asked, "So, I was wondering if I can go."

"I don't know, Lizzie. Inviting him to the theater with us was one thing, but..."

"We'll be right next door to you guys. You can check on us any time you want."

"I don't know. Let me think about it."

"Okay."

"Okay?" Jed curiously questioned. It wasn't like Liz to stop campaigning for something she obviously wanted badly.

"Yeah. Just think about it and let me know."

"You're not going to try to sell me on all the finer points of letting you go?"

"No."

"Or tell me how unreasonable I would be if I said no?"

"No."

He dropped his shoe and stared directly at her. "Spill it."

"What?"

"Do you not want to go out with Sven?"

"I do, but I know you're just looking out for me so I won't push."

Jed knew better. Tomorrow night, Liz had the option of attending a formal dance as part of the Nobel festivities, or being ushered back to the hotel with kids half her age. Giving up so easily just didn't sound like her. "Elizabeth, you're worrying me. Tell me what's on your mind."

In a way, she was grateful that Jed had the ability to always see right through her. It made her choices clearer, her moral dilemmas simpler. "I don't know if I should tell you this. It seemed like he didn't want me to tell you and I don't want him to be mad at me."

"Who? Sven?" She shook her head again. "If you even have to think about it, then I definitely want to know."

She curled her lips together and took a breath. "What's the matter with Uncle Jack?"

After searching the rest of the hotel, Jed headed to the restaurant in the lobby where he spotted Jack sitting at the bar. When he moved a little closer, he saw the glass of bourbon in front of him, his finger circling the rim.

Jed scolded himself silently. He should have known something was wrong, he thought. He had seen Kellie's discomfort at breakfast that morning. Her abrupt tone when she told them that Jack was sleeping in should have raised a flag or two. Jack never slept in, especially if it meant missing his favorite meal of the day.

Even as kids, Jack was usually the first one up, the first one at the breakfast table, eager to begin a new day while Jed preferred to soak up every last second of sleep until his father's infamous bellow forced him out of bed.

It surprised him that he remembered that about his childhood. Like a quick flash of light in his mind, that memory just hovered there for a minute and as it faded, Jed cautiously approached, sliding in on the stool next to Jack. "Isn't it a little early for that?"

"I'm not trying to drown my sorrows, Jed. Don't worry." Jack took a sip of the bourbon. "I just need to unwind a little."

"That'll certainly do the trick."

"Don't you have to get ready for the rehearsal?"

"In a minute." Jed motioned the bartender for a beer. "I wanted to touch base with you first."

"You talked to Elizabeth."

"Yeah."

"Tell her I'm sorry for last night. I don't know what happened."

"Apparently, you got angry. Brad could have killed himself out there. And for what? Just to try to frighten the girls."

"It's like he always does exactly what I tell him not to do."

"Kids are like that. And as parents, our first instinct is to respond out of anger. If Ellie had been the one climbing the balcony railing, I would have been livid."

Amazed at Jed's calm, even friendly tone, Jack turned to his brother. "Are you excusing what I did or have I just had too much to drink?"

Jed shrugged. "Do you really want me to excuse what you did?"

"Are you?"

"No," he answered. "All I'm saying is that I think you had every reason to be angry. Your reaction...the way you lashed out at Brad...that's a different matter entirely."

"You never disappoint, Jed." Jack's snarkiness seeped through the muffled response.

Jed ignored it. "Kellie's worried about your temper, isn't she?"

"She'd like to take Brad and leave." Jack let out a long, deep breath. "And part of me doesn't even want to stop her. Is that the worst thing you've ever heard?"

"If I was afraid I'd hurt one of my girls, I'd want Abbey to take them away from me too." Jed knew he hit the nail on the head when he was instantly confronted by Jack's steely expression, first angry and hostile, then crumpling into a stare of confusion.

And finally, Jack relented. Sort of. "That's what you think this is about."

"I'm just saying if I had done what you did, it might scare me a little." Jed lowered his voice and said, "It's okay to admit it, you know."

"I grabbed his shirt. I didn't strike him. I didn't push him. I grabbed his shirt too tight and he lost his balance. That's all."

"No one's accusing you of child abuse."

"Then what are you getting at?"

"I think you need help. I'm no expert, but I think you have an anger problem, especially when it comes to Brad. I know you love him. I've seen how you interact with him all week. There's no doubt in my mind you adore that little boy."

"I do." Optimistic that Jed could see the genuine affection he had for his son, those two little words were spoken softly.

"But when he makes you mad, you blow up. You lose your temper and something goes terribly wrong."

"It's only been like this the past few months. Before that, everything was fine."

To Jed, the trigger was obvious - their father's death. He paused briefly to gather his thoughts and chart his next step. He turned in his seat then, addressing Jack with compassion brimming his sapphire orbs. "Hey, why don't you, Kellie, and Brad come to the farm for Christmas?"

"The farm?" Jack echoed him, surprised at the sudden change of direction.

"Yeah, why not? Every year, the girls and I string up the lights together. I'm sure Brad would love to help out. We'll cook dinner, bake a few pies, sing a few carols in front of the fire place, and have a cozy tree-trimming party, just the family."

"As if we just stepped out of a greeting card?" he scoffed. "That's not exactly our family."

"You're quite the skeptic, my friend," Jed replied. "We grew up together. How is that you're such a pessimist when I'm such an optimist?"

"I got the defective Bartlet gene? Or maybe I just know better than to expect happily-ever-afters."

"Okay so Christmas might not be as ideal as I want it to be, but it'll be fun. And it'll give us a chance to talk about some things."

"What things?" Jed didn't have to elaborate. The sigh he gave was more than enough for Jack to understand. "Oh."

"Abbey gave me this memory book after he died. You know, in case I wanted to jot some things down about him so I could remember him later. I was a little upset when she gave it to me because...well, you just don't give those things to people who want to forget their past. Those books are reserved for loved ones who have sweet memories they want to cherish, not for me. I mean, I'm constantly doing my best to forget my life before college, so why in the world would she give me this thing, I wondered. But then it occurred it to me that what she wanted was for me to work through all that...all the bad stuff. She thinks it's the only way to really move on."

"What do you think?"

"I think it's wise not to argue with my wife, especially when she's right."

"This isn't about Dad, Jed."

Just because he said it didn't make it true. Jed certainly didn't believe it. After all, he was the only other person who knew what went on in their home. The anger and the screaming, the fights and the hitting. It wasn't something he could easily sweep aside and he had no doubt that after all these years, it still haunted Jack as much as it haunted him.

"I grew up in that house too, Jack. Who are you kidding?"

"What could his death possibly have to do with what's going on in my life?"

"I don't know. I'm not a shrink."

"No, you're not. So don't try to psychoanalyze me, all right?"

"I just thought it might help to talk about him."

"Do you talk about him?"

"Sometimes." Jack shot him a doubtful glare. "Okay, only when Abbey forces me."

"That's what I thought."

"But that's only because as hard as she tries - and she does try for my sake, she really does - but as hard as she tries, she doesn't understand. She didn't live with him. We did."

"A million years ago."

"It never goes away. I would say that you'd be surprised how many times I've remembered something about Dad at the strangest moments, but I suspect you've experienced it yourself."

"I try not to do that."

"Sometimes I think he was just an angry man who didn't know how to deal with that anger. Other times, I think he was just a bastard. Even so, I find myself defending him, even to my family. I make excuses to Abbey all the time. I even made excuses for him to Lizzie once."

"She knows?"

Jed nodded. "She overheard one of Dad's finest moments last year."

"No wonder I scared her last night."

"After his death, she and I talked about it without really talking about it, you know? I think that's because as much as I hate him, I can't stand the thought of anyone else hating him."

"Why?"

Again, Jed shrugged. "Loyalty maybe? I really don't know."

"I meant to ask you at the funeral, but I didn't want to start anything."

"Go ahead. Ask me now."

"Why didn't you give the eulogy? He would have wanted you to."

"I'm not sure about that." Jed immediately dismissed the notion. "After all, when he was on his death bed, I'm not the one he called."

Jack took another sip of his bourbon. "I should have known you'd hold that against me."

"I thought I was finished with him. I shut him out of my life for good. Then he got sick and I tried to help him. We took him to the best cardiologist in the state. I stayed with him in the hospital for as long as I could after his angioplasty. In fact, you know where I was on my fifteenth wedding anniversary?"

"Where?"

"I was at the hospital...with him. Abbey's parents threw us this big party. We had dinner reservations, everything. And we missed part of it because Dad had some kind of complication after his procedure and I didn't want him to be alone in the hospital."

"Abbey must have been pissed."

"Believe it or not, she understood. We missed our reservations, so she brought dinner to the hospital and we ate in the lounge. Afterwards, I said goodbye to Dad and we went to the party. But the point is, I put him first. Whenever he needed me, I always put him first. Not that it mattered in the end."

"The man had a stroke, Jed."

"And he called you. He was dying and he called you to say goodbye, to tie up loose ends. I'm not being petty here. I'm not saying he loved you more. What I'm saying is he knew he was going to die and he treated me just like he always had. I tried so hard to change our relationship and in the end, no matter what I did, it wasn't good enough to earn a phone call."

"You wanted to make amends before he died."

"It would have been nice. There was a lot I had to say and to be honest, there were things I wanted to hear. I didn't get to because he never gave me that chance. Maybe if he had, there would have been some hope for closure."

"So I guess it's a good thing you didn't give the eulogy?"

"He wouldn't have wanted me to," Jed said sadly. "Because at that point in time, even I don't know what I would have said."

"And now?" Jack asked. "What would you say now?"

"I still don't know. That's why I haven't opened the memory book yet."

"So you want me there to help you remember all this hate you've stored away?"

"I want you there because I think we need each other." And that was the truth of the matter. It had taken a long time for Jed to do it, but he was finally ready to reach out to his brother. "You can be mad at me until the end of time for getting out of that house..."

"Forget that, okay? Anyway, I wasn't mad that you left."

"I know. It was that I left and didn't look back. I ignored your letters and phone calls, Jack, because it was the only way I could get away. I mean really get away." Sincerity pouring out of every syllable, he said, "I was wrong."

Jack took a few seconds before responding. "Well...I can't say I expected that."

"I'm full of surprises." Jed gave him a small smile.

"That you are."

"And so are you."

"How so?"

"You didn't get your closure either, but I never would have guessed that his death would have unleashed this side of you."

"Just when I think we've moved past the sniping..."

"I'm not sniping. I'm concerned about you."

"I'm not like our father, Jed. His problem wasn't anger. It was jealousy and resentment. Surely you knew that. All those times he went after you, it was because you were smart and accomplished, even as a kid. You were popular among your classmates, adored by the teachers, president of your class, an Eagle Scout. You were good at so many different things. And when he looked at you, he saw all the things he wasn't."

"Or maybe he felt I was rubbing it in his face. Maybe on some level, sometimes, I was."

"Is this how you make excuses for him?"

"I guess it is." Caught in his own trap, Jed changed the subject. "Look, in the long run, it doesn't matter why he and I had problems. We just did. And the same goes for you and Brad. The fact of the matter is, the anger Lizzie described to me was familiar, Jack. It was familiar to me and I bet it was to you too. That's why part of you wants Kellie to take him away. You're scared."

"Are you going somewhere with this?"

"I'm trying to convince you to let me help."

Jack lowered his head, a classic gesture of avoidance he had seen in both his father and his brother over the years. He cringed at the thought, but from the time he and Jed were born, John Bartlet dictated their personalities. It was the reason Jed was the kind of father he was to his girls. And with great apprehension, Jack finally had to admit to himself that it was also the reason he was the kind of father he was to Brad.

Jed was right, he acknowledged. If he had any hope of burying the sour influence his father lorded over him from beyond the grave, he'd have to confront the painful memories that lingered in his mind.

"I'm not usually a big talker, Jed. I don't like to share my feelings or participate in therapy exercises."

"Who's asking you to?"

"Isn't that what you want?"

"No. I'm saying I know what you're going through. And you don't have to listen to me, but if you don't, I'm afraid you might just lose your family." Jed waited for a response and when he didn't hear one, he continued. "Come to the farm for Christmas. After the holidays, if you want, I'll go back to Ohio with you."

"What for?"

"In case you decide to see someone to help you control your temper."

"You want to drag me to a shrink?"

"I'm not going to drag you anywhere you don't want to go. I want to work with you, Jack. I want you to believe that I'm not going to turn my back this time. I'm here. I want to help. Let me."

"What if I said I'm not convinced I need your help?"

"I'd call your bluff," Jed replied. "Don't do it for me. Don't do it for you or even for Kellie. Do it for Brad. Ask yourself, don't you wish someone, somewhere, had had this very conversation with Dad when we were little?"

Jack turned away from Jed. He downed the rest of his drink as he pondered his options.

Thirty years ago, everyone in the neighborhood knew the Bartlet boys as energetic, rambunctious children, running around the playground, laughing and joking with their friends. They were polite and precocious, articulate overachievers who always made good grades. They were the ones that all the other parents pointed to as an example for their own kids.

Back then, no one would have guessed that thirty years later, they'd be sitting at a hotel bar, these little boys who were all grown up, as they battled the tension between them to commiserate over the consequences of a turbulent childhood they had kept secret for all this time.

It wasn't an easy thing for him to do, but Jack looked up at the man sitting beside him. With a subtle nod, he accepted Jed's offer.

TBC