Dallas, Texas
April 1977
Sue Ellen had been crying. She hadn't said so, but her face did. JR didn't look too happy either when breakfast time rolled around, a meal everyone was expected to at least show up for. This time, Jock wasn't the only one who noticed.
Miss Ellie had been quiet for months now, never commenting on what he might be thinking or what was happening right under their noses. But today, she'd finally spoken up, and suddenly things started to click into place.
"I haven't seen her like this since they were newlyweds. She's broody."
"Broody?"
"In both senses of the word."
"Oh."
"Don't say anything. I don't want them to know we know."
"Mm."
He'd agreed, but only half-heartedly, still uncertain what he'd do with the information. The more he thought about it, the more conflicted he felt. On one hand, he was pleased to think there might still be hope, he'd almost given up on JR ever giving him a grandson. But on the other hand, the fact that nothing had come from the first seven years of JR and Sue Ellen's marriage didn't exactly fill him with confidence that his hope meant much.
May 1977
"May I please have the patient name or file number?" the receptionist on the other end of the line asked.
"Yes, surname Ewing. Echo, Whiskey, India, November, Golf," Jock replied, spelling it out carefully as he waited for the receptionist's response.
"And your name?" the receptionist asked.
"Ewing," he answered.
"First name?"
"John Ross."
"Please hold," the receptionist said.
Jock waited again, glancing over the list on his desk. If his son and daughter-in-law were seeing a specialist through JR's insurance, this had to be the one.
"Good afternoon, sir. Are you still on the line?" the receptionist returned.
"Yes," he answered.
"I'll need you to confirm the last four digits of your Social Security number."
He was caught off guard by the question, though he shouldn't have been. Nor should he have been surprised when he realised he didn't have a good answer. He wasn't the John Ross they had on file, and his own numbers wouldn't match what the receptionist expected. Yet, the mere fact that she was expecting an answer was all the confirmation he needed.
"I don't have it on me," he said smoothly.
"I'm sorry, sir, but without it I cannot provide any information."
Losing interest now that he'd gathered what he needed, he ended the call with an abrupt, "Thank you."
Hanging up, he considered his next move. He was hardly going to raise the subject directly, JR and Sue Ellen would never engage with him like that. But all hope wasn't lost. He just needed to find someone who could give him access to the files so he could figure out exactly what was going on, and maybe even where and how he could be of use.
Sue Ellen was optimistic, she had to be; she didn't have many other options. JR, on the other hand, was more realistic. It was only their second round of treatment, but he'd spent a lot of time considering the odds of everything falling into place. Statistically, he didn't believe they had much chance of success, though he did his best to appear hopeful around his wife.
He walked her down to her car, kissed her goodbye, and wished her good luck, promising he'd see her back home later. He loved her dearly and wanted to make her happy, but unfortunately, there were some things even money and power couldn't buy.
The file had been hard to read. He didn't want to believe it, JR was the problem, not his wife. It made little sense to him, he'd easily had three sons of his own, one who'd definitely had a daughter, one who'd potentially had a daughter, and one who'd certainly had a scare back in his college days. Considering that, he had a hard time comprehending that now, when it was wanted, it wasn't so easily achieved.
It seemed JR was finally doing something about his problem although he wasn't convinced it would work. The notes he'd been able to get copies of when the right price was offered to the right person told a sorry story.
"JR, what do you think about adoption?"
As they slowed near the house after their evening walk, Sue Ellen looked up at her husband, his face barely visible in the fading light.
"Darlin', we've had this discussion," JR replied.
"I know, but we know more about our situation now."
She didn't feel pregnant, not even a hint. She wasn't sure what she should feel, but whatever this was, it certainly didn't feel like pregnancy. Her faith in the possibility was wearing thin.
"Let's wait to talk about it until we know more," JR said, his gaze fixed straight ahead. He was avoiding the topic, likely for reasons different from her own.
"Will you really consider it, then?"
Each day, her optimism faded a little more. She still had dreams about their future, but those dreams were starting to take on shapes quite different from the ones she'd once clung to.
"We'll see," he murmured.
"JR."
She squeezed his hand, stopping in her tracks, silently asking him to turn and face her.
"Let's not worry needlessly," he said, leaning down to kiss her. She softened a little, letting herself relax into his embrace, though his attempt to soothe her didn't entirely work. As he pulled away, her concerns lingered, still waiting, unaddressed, in the space between them.
It hadn't worked. She should have known it wouldn't, Doctor Carter had warned them it was unlikely to, but still, she had allowed herself to hope, to dream. Now, her dream was over again for another month, and she was crushed.
"Sue Ellen isn't feeling well; she won't be down for dinner."
JR's brief explanation might have sounded like good news if not for the sombre look on his face and the weight in his voice.
Jock nodded, murmuring his approval of Sue Ellen's absence, but it was Ellie's expression that finally convinced him. He'd been called selfish more than once in his life, but there was an undeniable streak of altruism in him too, one that had pushed him toward what now felt like the only logical choice. John Ross Ewing III would join the family soon, he would make sure of it, regardless of the cost or the personal toll it took on them in the short term.
Author's Note: Thank you for reading. I really appreciate your views, and I'd love to hear your thoughts in a review. A special thanks to everyone who's left a review, it means a lot. It'd be great to know what you think.