Confession
I sat in peace, the heat of sunshine filtering down into the trees I sat beneath. I let myself bake for a while, contemplating my new existence. Life was certainly more complicated without sight. I had spent most of the day, wandering around the school, orienting myself to the layout. Fortunately, there had only been one awkward moment when I walked into the showers as Scott was coming out. We decided on mutually ignoring each other, and went on. I was now trying to relearn the grounds. Following instructions from Rogue, Kitty and Storm, I had come out here to orient myself. No wonder I was lost. I had originally meant to come out here and find... find...
I huffed, annoyed at myself that I couldn't accept her death even in the relative privacy of my own mind. Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself firmly of why I was out here: to visit Jessie's, my daughter's, grave.
There are only two things that I hate more in this world than my uncle: death, and survivor's guilt. You'd think after dealing with my guilt over my parents' death all these years, (for which I actually was responsible), I'd be able to let go of my guilt over Jessica much more easily. Not so. It seems the pain of losing a child is vastly different and a thousand times more painful to the heart than the death of a parent.
Rising to my feet, I took a few steps away from the bench, determined not to get lost again, and heard someone approaching. The tread of two pairs of feet: one light and precise, and the other quicker but shuffling, told me who it was; and without turning, I acknowledged them. "Jean, Scott, good morning." I felt Scott's surprise, but Jean replied, "Morning, Mama," her amusement at Scott and her affection for me coloring her voice. She elbowed him, breaking his trance.
Clearing his throat, he added his own greeting, embarrassment coloring every word. "Morning. Need anything, Mama?" Smiling, I shook my head. "I just came to visit Jessie, and paused to rest and get my bearings for a minute." We stood in silence, as they searched for a proper response to a statement that had none.
These two. The perfect couple in the eyes of most of the world. However, it seemed very different to me. Though their love for each other was clear in every word, right now they both seemed… distracted, from each other. Jean was busy rebuffing David's advances, I knew, and Scott had apparently focused in on me. Further proof of a messed-up world, as if I had needed any. The good thing was something told me that, even if they both were focused on someone else at the moment, their love would survive the test.
Finally, Jean shook herself free of Scott's arm that was looped around her shoulders, and told him, "Why don't you show Mama where to go? I've got a class in ten minutes. I'll see you later, love." She kissed him, and jogged down the path, waving goodbye to me. Scott stood by himself for an awkward moment, then shook his head, and touched my arm. "I'll take you there." He tucked my hand into his arm, and we set off down the path.
The morning was silent, peacefully so. Most of the students were on the other side of the school in class or sports, so the only noise around us was the crunch of gravel as we walked. I was completely happy with silence, but it apparently made Scott nervous, because we had barely made it around the corner from the trees when he spoke. "Um, Mama, I need to say something."
I paused and looked up at him, trying to focus on his face so my stare was less disconcerting. "Which incident will we be referring to here? My homecoming, or when I walked in on you this morning?"
Even without my sight, I could tell he was blushing. He mumbled something that sounded like "homecoming." I heard him open and close his mouth a few more times; trying to find the right words, and smiled. Holding up my hand, I forestalled his confession. "I know. You weren't exactly subtle about it," I said, gentling my voice to take the bite out of my words. "As far as I'm concerned, nothing happened for you to feel as guilty as you do."
If anything, I felt the weight of his guilty expression increase. "Maybe you're okay with... it, and you understand, but I just..." He huffed in frustration, as his words ground to a halt. I smiled.
"Scott, do you plan to leave Jean for me?" He sucked in a horrified gasp, which was enough for me, and I cut off his next words. "Then don't worry about it. I'm not upset, Jean's not upset; everything is fine."
Turning, I ended the conversation by tugging him down the path. I only wish I'd realized then that the conversation would never really be over.