A/N: This one-shot is inspired by S7E19, "Thursday's Child," and would take place sometime after Jessica reads the letter Frank had written and then has dinner with Clint Phelps, but before Nancy Landon confesses what actually happened.
In my opinion, this episode is one of Angela Lansbury's greatest performances in her role as Jessica Fletcher, but it's also one of the most gut-wrenching ones to watch.
"Hazlitt."
The slightest of pauses, before she spoke, her voice low, "Seth."
"Jessica? Are you alright, woman?"
"Yes, I'm fine."
"Why don't I believe you then?"
Flustered, she stated, "Well—I suppose I did want to talk to you about something. Is now a good time?"
"As good a time as any. What's on your mind?"
"Well, I wondered if I could talk to you about something personal." She was nervous, but knew the more she delayed telling him, the more awkward it would become. "Seth, it's–very personal. I know we are friends but I suppose I need to know if you are alright if I talk to you candidly."
He knew he could be not only rather brusque in his manner, but in his speech as well. He was lying in bed, as it was half past ten in Cabot Cove and with Jessica out of town, he had nothing to do but go to sleep at a reasonable time. Truth be told, he was thrilled to hear from her. No matter what the reason. So, he lowered his voice, softening it as much as he could. "Jess, I thought we were best friends." He cleared his throat, anxious now, too. "You can talk to me about anything. And I do mean anything. Now, suppose you start by telling me what you have been up to since we spoke a couple of days ago. Ease into it if you are nervous."
"Alright. Well, I'm still in Cleveland. It's like any city I suppose. My hotel room is comfortable with a view of Lake Erie. Um…yesterday, I received a strange phone call from a woman named Nancy Landon."
"Hmm."
His humming helped her continue, knowing he was listening. Strangely, she understood he was conveying that she had his attention. It was his way of telling her that she was being heard and she had barely begun. Having confidence now, she paused to take another sip of wine in her hotel room.
He heard her swallow. "Are you drinking tea before bed?"
"Oh, no. Actually, I'm having a glass of wine."
Jessica, being in Cleveland, was also in eastern time. Knowing she must be in her hotel room for the night, he paused, not sure what he needed to say. Worried though, he said, "I've never known you to drink alone, Jess."
Quietly, she said, "I'm not drinking alone, Seth. I'm drinking while talking to you…I needed a little Dutch courage."
"Oh. Alright. Just…be careful, okay?"
"Yes…anyway, this Mrs. Landon asked to meet me in person. I started to decline but then she told me that she had been a nurse in Korea in 1951 and knew Frank. We arranged a time to meet."
"Hmm."
Wryly, she quirked her mouth at his humming. It did help her continue though. "Seth, she was a lovely woman. Kind and gentle. The type of woman who would be soothing to wounded military men far from home. I liked her immediately. She told me how she has a son, Steven, who is in trouble. He is the architect of a school that the city has been trying to cut corners on. Two nights ago, there was an explosion at the construction site. If you recall, that was when you and I were on the phone, and I thought it was a sonic boom. Anyway, Steven has been accused of setting the explosion and was arrested. There are powerful people involved, and Mrs. Landon and her son don't have the money to fight them. Steven's wife died last year, and he has been paying for her medical bills since."
"I understand that," Seth murmured quietly.
"I know you do…well, she wanted to know if I could intercede."
Seth had to speak, saying, "That's rather presumptuous."
She sighed, "I suppose, but I can't blame her. Not really. She is a widow, and her son is all she has. I did meet him today and he is a lovely young man. I wouldn't mind helping him if I could."
"What aren't you saying, Jess?"
"Well, yesterday, when we spoke, she told me that Steven's father had died. But then, when she asked for help and I pushed back, saying I didn't know what I could do…she told me that she had been more than a friend to Frank in Korea, that Frank…"
She didn't continue. She wasn't sure she could. Seth had a terrible suspicion of what she was going to say, but if he was wrong, there was no way in hell he would suggest it. He would wait until she could get it out. Which he was beginning to suspect would be after she had a bit more wine.
Sure enough, there was a pause, and he heard her swallow. Her voice was ragged, as she spoke again, softly, "She told me that Frank…Frank was the father of her son."
"Christ," he muttered under his breath. She didn't acknowledge his comment, nor did he interrupt further.
Instead, she somehow continued, "Today, I went to her house after I met Steven at the police station. I told her that I didn't believe the things she had said about Frank. Steven had told me his father died in Korea. She said that was what she told him, as it wouldn't have been appropriate to tell a young child that his father went home to his wife. Anyway, I didn't see how I could help him, even though I did believe he hadn't had anything to do with the explosion." Another pause, when Seth was positive that she was drinking more wine, before she said, "Mrs. Landon walked over to a desk and pulled a letter out to show me. It was written by Frank. He had written to her in 1954, concerned that he had not heard from her in over a year. He had written to offer help, with whatever she or her son might need. It had our return address on the envelope. It was his handwriting. I…" She started sobbing, unable to speak further.
Oh hell. He wished to god, his suspicions hadn't been accurate. But if he could give anything to make it not true or even just to make her go back in time to never being told this information and being able to live obliviously, he would do it. The pain in her voice—he felt in his chest. If Frank Fletcher wasn't already dead, he might be tempted to kill him for hurting her. Even though he knew it wasn't his place.
Even so, Seth wasn't sure. He had known Frank and out of all the men he had ever known to cheat on their wives, he would have bet everything it would have never been Frank. He just didn't have it in him. And never was there a man crazier about his wife than Frank was about Jessica.
But stranger things in this world have happened. And one thing Seth did know about was the vagaries of war and what stupid things young men do when they face mortality on the battlefield.
So, he waited. He sat against his headboard with the phone in the crook of his neck and he listened to Jessica as she cried.
After a long while, she calmed, hiccupping a few times, as she got her breath and sounded as though she wiped her face, sniffling. Clearing her throat, she spoke, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cry so long that you got stuck having to listen."
"It's a privilege, woman."
"What?"
"It's a privilege that you trust me to hear you. Don't apologize."
"Oh." There was rustling in the background. She shifted the phone, telling him, "Hold on a second, I'm moving to the bed."
Dear lord, like he needed that image in his head.
When she got settled, she murmured, "Well, the building contractor was murdered last night and now Mrs. Landon is the suspect. I tried to help as best I could because I do believe they are both innocent and are caught in the crosshairs of the greed of others. But—while that has been going on the last two days, I contacted my attorney to see if he could find any records of Nancy Landon and Frank. Anything showing that they were together in Korea. He found out that Nancy had been telling the truth about her service there and she was given a compassionate discharge in 1952 when she became pregnant and was unmarried. But of course, there was no proof of a link to Frank. I also contacted Frank's fellow crewman, Clint Phelps. I flew out tonight to have an early dinner with him. I was there for a couple of hours and flew straight back. I called you as soon as I got in my room. Clint remembered Nancy, but every time I asked if she and Frank had an affair, he just said that Frank loved me."
"He did, woman."
"But…Clint also admitted that men sometimes sought comfort in the arms of someone they shouldn't have when at war."
Seth sighed heavily. That was also true.
She tried to continue, "But—"
"But what?"
"But, oh, Seth. Nancy Landon gave him what I couldn't! What I wanted desperately. What Frank wanted. Why did he stay with me if he had a child with her?"
"I think you are asking that rhetorically."
"Perhaps."
"So, you tell me the answer."
"What do you mean?"
"Tell me what you know. What you know in your heart, what you know in your heart to be true, Jess. Not what may have been true. Not what you fear. But what you know. And if you can't tell me, tell yourself."
Several breaths. "I'd like to tell you. If that's alright?"
"Ayuh, I told you I'm your best friend."
Smiling, she said, "Yes, you are. What I know to be true…I know that I loved Frank more than anything and I know that he loved me."
"Hmm, what else?"
"I know that we were happy and while we couldn't have children together, we had a very full life. I don't really have any regrets. Because even though we weren't blessed with children, we did try our best to have them. Besides, we had Grady, and he became like our son."
"Hmm."
"We were both stubborn and fought on occasion, but we also laughed often, and we didn't hold grudges. We listened to each other and respected each other. We supported each other. We knew how to have fun together and relax together, too."
"Those are all good things."
"Yes—I know…I know that…are you sure it's alright to talk about anything?"
"Ayuh. You know it is, Jess."
"I know that…our love life was more than satisfying. It was…wonderful. He was good to me and wanted it to be enjoyable for me. Not a chore like some of my friends viewed it. I know I was faithful to him. And—I have always believed he was faithful to me."
Seth didn't really want to think about Jessica making love to Frank, but he had known they were happy. It stood to reason, they were happy intimately as well. And really, if Seth loved Jessica as much as he claimed to himself, he would have wanted her to love and to be loved well.
"I believe…that if he did have an affair, I believe I would have forgiven him. I would have been terribly hurt, and maybe I wouldn't have been as happy in our marriage as I was, because I think it would have been difficult to trust him the same way I did for all those years...but, oh god, I loved that man so much."
Crying again, he waited to speak until he heard her breathing return to normal. When she seemed quiet, he spoke, "Try not to let what may be true take away what you know to be true then."
She continued, softly, "I think I understand what you are saying, but I just can't wrap my head around it. I can't."
"I know you are afraid it is true. But is there any possibility it's not true?"
"I suppose, but there is no doubt the letter is from Frank. I held it in my hand."
"But did Frank refer to her son as his son? Or say anything else in the letter to prove her supposition that they had an intimate relationship?"
"Well, no." Dare she hope? And yet? "Oh, Seth. When I met Steven today, I looked for traces of Frank. I…didn't see any, but I don't know if that was my subconscious protecting my heart. Steven is a fine young man. And…as Frank did promise to help her, I realized that I could help in Frank's place, regardless of his parentage. There is nothing I want more than to find out this isn't true. That Frank was faithful to me, and this is all made up…but there is also a tiny part of me…that hopes for Frank, that he was a father. He would have made such a wonderful one…that's strange, isn't it?"
He chuckled, "Well, it might put you in the running for sainthood, Jess. But no, I think it shows how much you loved him. That you would love him enough to wish that for him even at great personal cost to yourself. And even perhaps to hope a part of him was still living on."
"I still want to beat his chest if it's true."
"That sounds reasonable to me."
"Why do men cheat, Seth?"
"Plenty of reasons. All of them stupid. But I think most of the time they lose sight of what they already have. Because of fear, greed, lust. Take your pick."
"Did you ever….?"
"Cheat on Ruth? No, that was one thing I'm grateful I never did. I am many things and I certainly did many stupid things. Stubbornness being my worst trait and the root cause probably. But I was always true to Ruth. And for what's worth, I never cheated on anyone else I was with before or after her either. Not that those few relationships lasted long nor were they meaningful."
"I've never cheated either. I only had a few boyfriends in college before Frank. But I always found dating complicated enough not to want to involve anyone else."
He chuckled, agreeing with her.
"What do I do, Seth?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, how do I reconcile this in my brain?"
"You do whatever you need to do, Jess. Frank is dead. You can't ask him. While this may be true, it may not be either. Unless you find a way to prove it one way or another, you are going to have to find a way to make peace with the uncertainty."
"Make peace with the uncertainty..."
"Ayuh, but you will figure it out. Personally, I would like to believe that Frank knew what he had with you. Knew how unbelievably lucky he was. And even if he made a dumb mistake in Korea, he came home grateful to be with you."
"You say that like it's—personal."
"Well, I think the world of you, Jess."
"Is that all?"
"Is thinking the world of you insignificant?"
She sighed, "When you put it like that, I don't suppose it is."
He couldn't help adding, "Let's just say that if I had you to come home to, I'd like to think that I would never be stupid enough, wartime or not, to ever hurt you like that. That I would know what I had at home waiting for me, how lucky I was, and stay focused on coming home to you."
It was her turn to hum, which made Seth smile.
"Jess, when you come home, maybe we could talk about us."
Did he say that aloud?
He must have, because he heard her sharp intake of breath, but he was unprepared when she said, softly, "I'd like that, Seth."
Saying goodbye, they hung up. Sleep eluded them both, as they were lying in bed, hundreds of miles apart, thinking of one another. Grateful for the other. Sensing that what they already had in each other made them whole.