You guys are so AWESOME!!! I love that pretty much all of you picked up on how Frank and Joe were handling the news about Laura. Neither is 'right' and neither is 'wrong' – they are just handling it in the way that is most comforting for them given their different personalities. I've got this huge smile on my face now – THANK YOU!! :D
Iola – Yes, that 'man of the house' thing was from one of my stories, but I couldn't tell you which one! LOL! :p
Angel Wishes
Chapter 5
Fenton sat in his office going through the motions of working, but in actuality thinking about his wife. After dinner, Laura had left for a holiday gathering at their neighbors' house while both Frank and Joe had retreated to their rooms. Fenton had been wondering, and worrying about Laura's biopsy the following afternoon when he suddenly heard shouting. Seconds later he heard a loud thud and swore he could feel the house shake.
'What the…' Fenton rushed to the door of his office and pulled it open just in time to see a visibly upset Joe run past. He watched as Joe disappeared into the kitchen and seconds later heard the back door open and slam shut. He hesitated a moment, glancing up the stairs before following in Joe's footsteps.
Emerging into the backyard, Fenton squinted, unable to see much in the dark. Reaching back into the house, he flipped the switch to turn on the porch light, before closing the door. The chill of the winter night was nothing compared to the chill in his heart – Joe was in the middle of the yard, on his knees, sobbing.
Rushing across the deck and down the steps, Fenton dropped to his knees in the snow next to Joe and put his arms around his son. He didn't speak, but held Joe close until the heartbreaking sobs turned to muffled sniffles. Now shivering with his pant legs wet and on their way to freezing, Fenton's first thought was to get himself and Joe back inside the house.
"Come on, let's go inside," Fenton tried to coax his distraught son. "It's freezing out here."
"No!" Joe protested, making a half-hearted attempt to pull away from his father.
"Joe, please. Come back in the house."
"Not while he's still in there!"
"Frank?" Fenton asked, chilled at the venom in Joe's voice.
"He's already given up! He thinks that biopsy will show Mom has cancer! He won't even consider that she might be fine!" Joe cried out, oblivious to his father's gentle persuasion to get him up and back in the house. He turned and looked at his father, eyes wide with disbelief. "How could he?"
"He hasn't given up," Fenton said soothingly.
"Then why is he already researching treatments and options and…survival rates!" Joe choked out the last words.
Fenton sighed and hugged Joe close to him. He could easily see that his sons were simply trying to deal with the devastating news in a way that was easiest for them. For Joe, the eternal optimist, that was to think positively and not even consider the possibility that his mother could have cancer. He didn't want anyone else to consider it either.
For Frank, it meant learning every last detail about the disease. Fenton knew Frank was hoping and praying just as hard as Joe was that Laura's biopsy would come back negative. But in the horrible event that it didn't, Frank wanted to be ready to offer her as much support as humanly possible. To him, that meant knowing everything possible about what his mother would be facing.
"He's just as upset as you are," Fenton said, his voice quiet but firm. "But for as close as the two of you are, you are also very different, so you'll deal with this kind of news in drastically different ways.
"Frank is simply reacting the way he would in any situation where someone he loved was in potential danger. Find out everything he can about the 'enemy' and use that information to try and defeat it." He sat back, still keeping one arm loosely around Joe's shoulders, watching his son's face. He could see Joe considering what he'd said and almost saw the anger dissipating, still amazed at how rapidly Joe's moods could change.
Joe swiped at his eyes. "I guess that makes sense," he mumbled.
From the tone of his voice, Fenton guessed Joe was feeling a little embarrassed and guilty about his outburst and particularly the accusations he'd hurled at Frank. While Joe was quick to anger and often said things in the heat of the moment, he was just as quick to admit his mistakes and apologize.
"Come on," Fenton tried again, this time successfully pulling Joe to his feet. "Let's go inside. I think you need to have another talk with your brother."
Nodding numbly, Joe allowed Fenton to guide him back into the house.
oooOOOooo
Stunned, Frank stood with his back against the wall for almost a full minute, trying to figure out what had just happened. Pushing himself away from the wall, Frank felt a twinge in his back and winced.
Dropping to his hands and knees, Frank crawled around the room gathering the papers Joe had flung at him. Collecting them all, he sat on the floor and leaned against the bed, carefully arranging them in order. As he stared at the harsh words – mastectomy, radiation, chemotherapy – his eyes began to burn.
Putting the papers on the floor next to him, Frank rubbed his eyes roughly. 'Why? Why Mom?'
Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes, recalling one of the earliest memories he had of his mother…
Three-year-old Frank ran into Joe's room, his favorite storybook clutched tightly in his hands. Laura had promised him at breakfast that morning that she would read it to him. His little brother had been cranky the last few days, having come down with an ear infection, and demanded more of Laura's attention than usual. His mother had explained to Frank the infection made Joe very uncomfortable. While Frank understood his little brother wasn't feeling well, he still felt sad that Laura didn't seem to have as much time for him.
He'd heard her come into Joe's room a few moments earlier and, remembering her promise, dug out his book, hoping she would have a little time for him now. However, when he stepped across the threshold, Frank stopped short as he saw his mother, humming softly, smiling down at the squirming baby in her arms, trying to rock Joe to sleep.
With his father's admonishments of 'Shhh, Joey doesn't feel well ' running through his head, Frank dejectedly turned to leave, his lower lip quivering.
"Frank, come here sweetie."
Spinning around, Frank saw his mother smiling and motioning him towards her. He hesitated, noting that Joey's eyes were half-closed. "It's okay, honey. Come on," Laura encouraged.
Dubious, Frank took a few steps, stopped for a moment, uncertain and then tentatively walked towards the rocker. Putting his book down on the floor, Frank watched his mother talking softly to Joe. For a moment Joe's eyes closed completely and Frank smiled.
'Yay! He's asleep!' Now he would have his mother all to himself!
Suddenly Joe's eyes opened and Frank's heart sank. Frowning, Frank watched his little brother, who turned and looked directly at him. Upon seeing Frank, Joe's huge blue eyes lit up and he squealed with delight, squirming and reaching out for Frank. As Joe twisted and turned, trying to escape his mother's arms, Frank felt something tingle inside him. He felt all warm and wondered if he had caught Joe's ear infection. But he decided he felt too good to be sick. As Joe beamed at him, he decided he liked the feeling – whatever it was! While Laura calmed Joe down again, he never took his eyes off Frank.
As Joe smiled at him, Frank tentatively reached out towards his brother. Glancing at Laura, he saw her nod and smile encouragingly. Very gently, Frank stroked Joe's hair the way he'd seen his parents do.
"Shh, Joey. Go to sleep," he whispered. Joe extended his arm and grabbed Frank's hand. Wrapping his little fingers around it, he held on tight. Frank watched his baby brother sigh contentedly, as his heavy eyelids drifted shut. Minutes later, Joe fell asleep with a smile on his face and a tight grip on his big brother's hand.
Carefully, Laura got up and placed Joe in his crib. Turning to Frank, she put a finger to her lips. Taking his hand, she led Frank out of Joe's room and down the hall. Smiling, Frank saw they were headed to his parents' room. More than anything else, he loved to snuggle deep into his mommy and daddy's bed while one – or both of them – read him a story.
Charging ahead, Frank ran through the door and jumped onto the big bed, jumping up and down a few times for good measure. Scrambling up to the head of the bed, he settled back against the soft, cushiony pillows and patted the spot beside him. "Come on, Mommy! Hurry up!"
Frank laughed with glee when Laura, following his lead, also jumped onto the bed, causing him to bounce around a little bit. Leaning back against the pillows, Laura put her arm around Frank's shoulders and drew him close. Snuggling up against her, Frank sighed happily as his mother's soft, lilting voice made his favorite story come to life….
Frank recalled how, once Joe had finally gone to sleep, Laura's entire world revolved entirely around him until Joe woke up again. Thinking back, Frank realized that was his first memory of his weekly 'date' with his mother. From the time he and Joe were very small, they did almost everything together, not because they were forced to but because they wanted to. However, Laura made sure that once a week she spent an entire morning or afternoon with each of her sons – alone. The other one either went to a friend's house to play or spent time with Aunt Gertrude or their father.
Frank had grown to love those 'dates' with his mother and eagerly looked forward to them, as he knew Joe did. Sadly, Frank realized that those dates had stopped years ago.
'Why?' he thought, angry with himself. 'When did I become too busy for my own mother?'
Shaking his head in disgust, Frank started to push himself up when a movement caught his eye. Joe stood in the doorway, hesitant.
"Frank?"
Frank glared at his brother for a second, hurt, before turning away. "What do you want?" His tone was clipped and very angry. Ignoring Joe as best he could, Frank stalked across the room to his desk, neatly stacking the papers beside the computer.
"I-I'm sorry."
Frank was silent, doing a slow burn at Joe's outburst. 'Just because I'm not emotionally explosive doesn't mean I'm not scared, too! So what If I deal with my feelings differently than he does? It does NOT give him the right to accuse me of not caring!' Fear for his mother fueled the slow burn, which suddenly ignited into a flaming rage. Frank whirled on Joe, furious.
"You should be! How dare you say I don't care about Mom! Do you think you're the only one who's scared?!" he yelled.
"No," Joe whispered.
"You think that just because I deal with it differently than you do, that it doesn't bother me? That Mom is just some statistic to me?!"
"No," Joe repeated, ashamed.
"I never thought you could be so self-absorbed!" Frank ranted, so grateful to finally have an outlet for his anger and fear he barely looked at Joe. "She's my mother, too! So what if I'd rather know what she might be facing instead of burying my head in the sand and pretending nothing's wrong-"
"I'M SORRY!!" Joe screamed. "I'M SORRY! I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" he repeated, the terror beginning to crush him.
Frank stared in disbelief as his brother fell apart.
"I'm scared, Frank…. I'm so scared…" Joe choked out.
All of a sudden, Frank was overwhelmed with a vision from the past. The day he'd helped Laura put Joe down for his nap. The way Joe looked at him – awe, admiration, hero worship. Frank didn't even realize he'd moved but suddenly he was there next to Joe, hugging him, rubbing his back. "I know," Frank said soothingly. "I'm scared, too."
"I really am sorry," Joe apologized again, his voice hushed and quiet. "I didn't mean it – any of it."
"I know that, too," Frank assured him. Sighing heavily, he released Joe and gently pushed him towards the bed. Joe sat down and looked up at him, more scared than Frank could ever remember.
"What if it really is cancer? Losing Iola was bad enough. I can't – I can't lose Mom, too… I just… I can't." Joe stared at him with that look Frank both hated and loved. The one that said 'You can fix anything! Please, fix this!'
Frank sat down on the bed, facing Joe. He knew he couldn't fix this, but maybe he could make the wait a little more bearable. "You know, one of the statistics I found said eighty percent of all breast biopsies turn out not to be cancer."
"Eighty percent?" Joe repeated.
"Mm-hmm. They're just fluid filled cysts or benign lumps. Nothing to worry about."
"So there's a good chance…" Joe's voice trailed off, but his eyes were now hopeful.
"…that Mom is just fine," Frank finished for him with a smile.
Joe sat quietly for a few moments, apparently thinking about that one statistic. "Frank?"
"Hmm?"
"Uh, you're not gonna tell Mom that I threw you against the wall… are you?" Joe asked uncertainly.
Frank regarded his brother thoughtfully for a moment before responding. "I don't know," he said raising an eyebrow. "What's it worth to ya for me to keep my mouth shut?"
…
Outside the bedroom door, Fenton Hardy chuckled softly. He knew it might only be a short respite, but for the first time in two days, he relaxed. Walking towards his office, he felt a little more hopeful that everything would turn out all right and his family just might have a Merry Christmas.
