Dallas, Texas
August 1978
More children weren't in the cards for them, at least not anytime soon. JR understood and accepted that. To be honest, he'd never wanted a big family; he'd dragged his feet even on having John Ross. He loved John Ross, of course, but he hadn't been eager to meet his first son until Sue Ellen pleaded with him to see a specialist. After John Ross was born, he only brought up the idea of a bigger family because his daddy had raised it with him. Now, his daddy didn't seem to think more children were a good idea; in fact, he blamed JR for pressuring Sue Ellen so soon, conveniently ignoring his own part in the matter.
Jock Ewing was a mystery. For so long, JR thought he understood him, at least in business, but personally, he hadn't a clue what went on in his mind. On one hand, he seemed fully supportive of Sue Ellen doing her duty for the family, even enjoying it a bit too much. He'd crossed boundaries when she was carrying John Ross, and it looked like history might repeat itself before Sue Ellen put an end to it. On the other hand, his daddy couldn't stand the idea of JR and Sue Ellen making decisions about their own family. First, it was that they should have more children; then it was that they shouldn't. Now, he claimed JR had mistreated his wife so badly she ended up in an institution. His daddy's opinions on whether more Ewings were a good thing seemed to change depending on the time, the day, and who was asking.
His mama was kinder, gentler than his daddy, though she clearly disapproved of Sue Ellen's behaviour. She had visited Sue Ellen only once, and after that visit, Doctor Conrad requested she not return, citing Sue Ellen's emotional decline following their conversation.
Bobby and Pamela were sympathetic, and as much as he disliked Pamela, JR was incredibly grateful to her for stepping in as a mother figure to John Ross while Sue Ellen was gone. Mrs Reeves was competent, but she saw childrearing as just a job, not a labour of love.
How JR was coping depended on the day. John Ross brought him so much joy, but his presence was a painful reminder of what could have been, and that angered him. Sue Ellen claimed she'd tried to talk to him about her feelings, and in a way she had, but he'd had no idea how unwell she truly was or how serious she was about the decision she'd ultimately made. The fact that she had made that decision alone, taking such an irresponsible path, was hard to forgive. He wasn't sure she even wanted his forgiveness, she'd never asked for it, after all. In fact, she didn't seem to regret what she'd done. She was quick to blame others for not helping her, but he insisted she'd never truly asked for help, so he couldn't be held entirely responsible.
Things were a mess, and he wasn't sure how or when they'd ever start to improve.
September 1978
Eight weeks was too long. A short rest was easy enough to explain, but two months? That was pushing it, and soon people would start talking. He'd only admitted Amanda for a short stay at first too, but soon the staff stopped mentioning discharge dates, their conversations shifting to long-term care plans instead.
Jock didn't want the same thing happening to Sue Ellen. He didn't think her situation warranted that kind of recommendation. It seemed her stubbornness was the main issue, her refusal to see the brighter side of life.
Eight weeks was more than enough time to rest, read, enjoy the sun and fresh air, exercise, regain her strength, and, most importantly, stop feeling sorry for herself. Eight weeks was far too long for a mother to be away from her son. By now, Sue Ellen ought to be ready to come home to her family, ready to show Dallas that being a Ewing meant overcoming hardships, not giving up when faced with challenges.
For that reason, he had his contacts working overtime, doing whatever they could to influence the case for her release. Sue Ellen belonged at Southfork, and he intended to have her back, whether she wanted to be there or not.
"Tongue up. Now down. Roof of your mouth. Good. For that, you get your snack, yogurt or muffin?" The nurse checked she'd taken her medication and then offered a snack.
"Yogurt, please," Sue Ellen answered.
They treated her like a child. Actually, even her own mother had never babied her the way the nurses on medication rounds did. She hadn't noticed it at first, but as the weeks went by and her mind cleared, it began to irritate her.
She was a grown woman. She had a husband, a son, and more money than she knew what to do with. She'd wanted her autonomy so badly that she'd literally pierced the barrier to independence, and for her actions, she'd been locked up here.
It had been long enough. She was ready to go home, and she intended to tell Doctor Conrad that. Setting her unopened yogurt cup down on the table, she stood and took a couple of steps towards the door before turning at the sound of her name.
"Mrs Ewing, where are you going?"
"I need to see Doctor Conrad."
"We eat together first, then we have free time in the afternoon. Please wait to be excused."
John Ross was a baby, meant to be cosseted and, in a few months, taught boundaries. But she was thirty-one years old, she didn't need any of that, and she wasn't going to put up with it.
"This can't wait. Please take it up with Doctor Conrad later."
Without waiting for a response, she continued walking, heading down the open-air hallway towards the meeting rooms and, hopefully, her freedom.