Jess sat on Chris' bed, dumbfounded.
Chris had cried himself to sleep. He had suddenly got up from the sofa, ran to his room and launched himself face down into his pillow, sobbing. Jess saw that he had tried to contain it, while they watched the news footage from Langley together in silence, aghast. He was at an age where people kept telling him he'd soon be an adult and so he tried to act it, but the little kid he still was kept poking through, frustrating and embarrassing him at every turn. He was still her baby. Her simple, straight forward, loving little boy. Hers and Brody's. But mostly hers.
How was any of this even possible? Were they saying all these things about him because he was a Muslim now? Jess still didn't understand how Brody was a Muslim, but he'd gone crazy when she'd thrown his Qur'an on the ground, saying she had desecrated it, asking her to show some respect. Dana said it was true. He didn't seem much like a Muslim, or how she imagined a Muslim would be, in any case. She knew she shouldn't generalize but her life had been blighted by these issues, that war. Those people - the type of fanatics responsible for bombings and torture. They were all Muslims, right? Dana would have yelled at her if she dared say this out loud. It wasn't considered enlightened to say it, she knew, but as fas as she could see, she was right. They'd taken her Brody and returned an empty shell eight years later. He'd never been particularly religious before. Church had been more her thing, how she had been brought up.
It wasn't just because of the Islam thing. There was the video. He was wearing his uniform, for god's sake, explaining why he'd done what he did. A suicide tape. When had he made that? How long had he been planning it? Why had he dragged them all through this past year if he knew he was going to do this? Why had he bothered to re-enter his children's lives just to wreck them? She had suspected at times that he had gone insane. When he killed the deer. When she caught him talking to himself. When he jumped at shadows. When he cried in his sleep and nearly broke her arms.
This meant that he was dead. She had thought he was dead before, before she admitted it to anyone. She had basically spent eight years, what had been left of her youth really, admonishing anyone who referred to her as a widow. Stubbornly refusing the death benefits from the military for seven of those years, keeping the hope alive. She had openly criticised Helen Walker for giving up on Tom and remarrying so soon. She knew this made her a massive hypocrite, since she had such strong feelings for Mike, but she had even held him at arm's length until those seven years were up and Brody was officially considered dead by the military. Helen Walker would know exactly what Jess was going through now. How Jess had pitied her when the manhunt for Tom was on. The thought of people pitying Jess, the woman who had been proud to have become a Congressman's wife despite her initial misgivings, made her stomach turn. Perhaps, even worse, people would blame her, would shun the kids for their association with Brody. Or at the very least for having lived alongside him and not noticed, not prevented this. Brody couldn't have done this. He couldn't have.
The agents had come to the house and interviewed them all together, Jess wouldn't let them speak to the kids alone. All sorts of questions about how Brody had been when they last saw him, if he'd called since, if he'd left them letters. Whether he had seemed to be saying goodbye. They had taken stuff from the house, some of Brody's things. He really didn't have many 'things'. He hadn't really had enough time back at home in order to accumulate anything, and he didn't show much interest in the stuff he used to like before Iraq. She had been putting clothes aside for him over the past few days so he could collect them when he came by. Now that they were separated.
Is this why they had separated? Of course she knew it wasn't, it was because things weren't working between them. But things hadn't been working for months, or ever, actually, if she was honest. So was this why had they separated just now? Was it because he was going to do this? Had he said goodbye on purpose? Told Mike that he was free to be with them - had Brody known that it was going to come to this?
She had thought it was to do with Carrie. Something had been going on for a few weeks, maybe months. He lied about her having been fired and locked up in a mental hospital. He'd come home, he wouldn't come home. He'd show up in the middle of the night saying he'd been fighting, looking like shit, hand in a bandage. He had fed her lines about working with the CIA, said that he couldn't discuss the detail because of 'national security', that this explained his absences, why they had to move to the safe house, why she and the kids had been under armed guard going stir crazy. If he was a terrorist, like they were saying, why were the CIA taking care of his family? Nothing made sense. Her head spun.
But he had been about to give her an explanation, the night he had decided to leave them. She stopped him, told him she didn't care any more. He had been about to confess to something. He kind of insinuated that Carrie the crazy CIA woman wasn't so crazy after all. That the things she had said to Dana before they had her arrested had some truth to them. Jess had stopped him, it was too little too late. If she had failed in keeping her family together, and she had finally accepted - after nine long years - that she had, then she didn't see why she had to be burdened with his confession. If they had stayed together, managed to make things work, then she would have stood by him 100%. But if he was going, going off to Carrie, then let her take care of him, put up with his moods, his secrets, his violence. Carrie must know all about it and if she still wanted him despite all that, then maybe she deserved him. She had just wanted it to be over.
Except it wasn't. There were reporters outside the house again. Much more even than when Brody had first come home. The CIA or FBI, or whoever they were, had said that they would wait outside the house and keep them away tonight. Until they had interviewed them properly, they had said. She was going to have to explain her last conversation with her husband to them. After that Jess guessed they'd be on their own. How was she going to protect Chris and Dana from this?
Thank god she had Mike. He was sitting out on the back porch, having a cigarette. He had been very quiet since all this broke. He was probably wondering why he spent his whole life picking up the pieces left behind by Brody, Jess thought. The past few days had been odd, kind of unreal. Brody had left her. Calmly, kind of amicably, by mutual agreement. Finally, she guessed. Mike had called, told her that Brody had been to see her, what he had said. Just letting her know that if she needed him, he'd be there, she only had to say the word. She had said the word. He hadn't moved in yet. Jess had only just told the kids that their father had moved out, it was all too soon.
Chris had taken the news of their separation badly, was refusing to eat. Jess was going to have Brody to talk to him, make it okay. Dana hadn't been surprised. She had still been pissed at Brody. Pissed at everyone, really. Mike had come round for coffee the following day and Dana burst through the kitchen door, took one look at him, glanced at her mother and scoffed "Oh, hey, Uncle Mike, have you come to stay in the spare room? Oh, wait, we don't have one. Still, my dad is gone, have you heard? Maybe we could squeeze you in. Mom, what do you say?". Jess could have killed her, right then. Dana had taken off after that. Mike had hugged Jess and told her that Dana would come round eventually, once things settled and she realised she still had her dad, she still had Jess, that things were just going to be a little different from now on. He was confident that they'd work it out. Jess had kissed him insistently in the kitchen before Chris arrived home from school and sat down immediately to play his video game.
Dana had reacted strangely to this whole thing. Jess knew that Dana adored her father. Jess felt alienated by it sometimes. Even though she had encouraged it herself the whole time Brody had been missing. From when she was very little, when Brody had only just left for Iraq, they had this ritual of kissing Dana's photo of her daddy goodnight before Jess turned Dana's bedroom light out. Jess' part in the ritual had been dispensed with when Dana had reached about fourteen years old, but she knew Dana still did it, even now. Dana kept the tattered photo of Brody in her nightstand. This adoration had even weathered the storm of her recent unbearable teenage behaviour. Not much else had. It was still there, deep down, even though she had been at Brody's throat since he'd let her down over the hit and run. Today must have been so painful for her.
Dana had stood up in front of the agents and announced that this whole thing was bullshit. She had her father's mouth alright. Jess suspected that she knew more than she let on, she definitely understood more about this situation than Jess did. Which wouldn't be hard. She alluded to the time Carrie had appeared at their house. That same incident Brody had mentioned to Jess the night he left. Once the federal agents had gone, she had shut herself in her room and refused to talk to Jess or Mike.
Jess spared a thought for all the other kids who were coping with the loss of a parent tonight. 192 people had died at Langley, they had said on the news, many of them would have been parents. She felt sick.