Chapter Nineteen

Anna held Elizabeht against her shoulder as they waited in Dr. Cooke's waiting room. There were many other children there, some as small as Elizabeth, others older than Johnny. It was unsettling for John that he was the only father that seemed to be in the office. It as 930. They had already been waiting 45 minutes and sitting in the same position had John's back nagging him.

John pushed to his feet to stretch his sore muscles. Anna just looked at him. She was getting a little tired of his moodiness and his short fuse. The other morning he'd snapped at Johnny when he got some jam on the freshly cleaned table. It was true, their son had not listened to her directions, but it shouldn't have earned him a snap and a smack from his father.

John had jumped her when she asked about his taking the car to and from the abbey. Robert wanted to help his friend and offered Mr. Stark's services to bring John, and the children, if they were going, to the abbey and back home. It was very kind, but the weather was warm and not overly rainy. To Anna it was a simple question, "Why are you going by car so often now?" To John, apparently, it was prying. They hadn't spoken for two days.

The only person John was completely open with at the moment was Elizabeth. Whenever he seemed to be in bad mood, he could pick up the baby and hold her close to him. He would sit and encourage her to look at him, to smile for him, to hold up her head, to do all the things she was supposed to do and wasn't.

The other morning, John had Elizabeth on his thighs as he sat on the settee. She was happy and content, stretching her arms and legs out this way and that, when Anna noticed her baby girl's eyes. They were open wide and fixed on John's face. She was finally connecting with him, holding his hazel eyes with her own matched set. The joy that showed on her husband's face was nothing short of wonderful.

"Are you alright?" Anna asked softly as John fidgeted and paced around the room.

How could he truthfully answer that question?

"Perfectly," John ribbed. "I just want to get this over with. For her sake…"

Finally, their name was called. "Bates, Elizabeth"

"That's you," Anna cooed to the baby. John hovered as Anna stood with the baby in her arms. Dr. Cooke held the office door open as they stepped into the room. "Mr. and Mrs. Bates, and baby…"

"Elizabeth," John provided. "Good of you to see us, Dr. Cooke."

"Not at all," Dr. Cooke replied. "What brings you in?"

John and Anna described what they were concerned about given the baby's development and Dr. Clarkson's checkup. "Given the difficult delivery, we discussed the possibility of residual damage. It's possible that this is an early manifestation of that. Some babies are delayed in their motor skills, social function, emotional function…She does seem to recognize the both of you, but I've seen little otherwise."

"You've done little otherwise," John bit standing beside Elizabeth on the cot. She was crying, her tiny arms and legs, every which way.

"That's just it, you see, Elizabeth is too young for me to be sure of anything. She might be what we term a "slow child" meaning she will be a few months behind her peers. She might be "retarded" which could put her years behind and perhaps she will remain childlike."

John leaned down to pick up the baby as Anna covered her mouth to stifle a gasp. "What do you think?" John pressed.

"Mr. Bates, I hate to…" Dr. Cooke began, but John, but his head off. "Blast it man, what do you think?!'

"John!" Anna said firmly. Elizabeth started crying harder as John lost his temper with the doctor.

"I think it is far too soon to say anything, but I hope that she will catch up to other babies her age before her second birthday. That's usually how these things works out. There are things you can do at home that will help her, mostly encouraging her to follow commands and reach goals that your older children met at similar stages."

Dr. Cooke made some notes. "But there is the possibility of life- long disability."

Anna felt sick and barely spoke at all on the drive back to Downton. John, however, had the bit between his teeth. "He will not tell me this baby isn't going to be just fine! Look at her! She's perfect."

"No one's perfect, John," Anna sighed. "Dr. Cooke is the best pediatric specialist in the county!"

"Then we'll go to London," John grated out. "We will go to America if we must. We'll find a way."

Anna tried to soothe Johns ire. "We will, but here, together. You arent in this by yourself. I wasn't there the first month, and I'm so sorry this happened. I'm sorry that I couldn't do what I should have done. That I couldn't bear her and deliver her the way I was supposed to!"

"Come down from that high horse, Anna!"John snapped. "Your self blame and self depreciation does nothing for me! It doesn't help!"

Anna fell silent and bit her lip trying not to stoke John's ire any further. She knew this would be upsetting, but she never expected he'd react like this. He was so worked up.

John realized what he'd done. "Oh Anna, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry, I just…I don't want anything beyond happiness for any of our children. I love them, I love you and I just need and want happiness for them."

"I don't want anything less either, but it will be as it will," Anna sighed. "We don't know and we can't know. We will have to do what we can to help her and wait…"

Wait. It was the longest four letter word there was.

The realization their youngest child might need help to achieve certain basic goals and milestones their older children simply could do was jarring for both Anna and John, but John seemed to take it harder than she. His already dark moods got worse. He kept to himself far more than before so much so even Anna had a hard time drawing him out.

For his part, John felt old. Old and tired. His body didn't want to cooperate with his heart and his mind. He wanted to do so much with his children, with Anna, at work, but try as he might, his body clapped back at him with a force unknown just a few months ago.

Anna had been an angel. She could tell his knee was bothering him more lately and would often draw him baths, then wrap his knee and thigh in cold compresses to ease the aching. John couldn't bring himself to tell her he was going lame in his other leg nor that his back was so tight and painful. She would know then what a truly old man she married. John didn't have the strength to usher in that discovery.

It all came to a head one evening in late July. It was hot for northern England, the air was wet and thick. The walk from the cottage to the house and back would do in younger men. Thankfully Robert was routinely sending the car.

When John went to get out of bed that morning and put his weight on his bad leg, he hissed in pain as soon as he stood up. John looked down at his knee. The swelling from the night before had only gone down a bit, there was still a lot around the joint. He sighed and limped to the bathroom for a powder to get through the day.

The actual work day was a nightmare with so many problems and issues coming up regarding the walls in the bottom half of the hotel. They needed to be refurbished, the workman had said. It would cost more and there would be a delay. John selected a new panel for the walls which necessitated them pulling up more of the floor. That was just the hotels problems. It seemed Robert's day was constantly interrupted by family issues. Her ladyship was always breaking into the day about some event or other. By the end of it, John could barely hold his temper. "I can't do my job if there is no plan or reason in place for when your attention might be demanded!" he snapped at Robert.

Robert promised to speak to Cora and let it go. That evening brought everything to a head. For a while, Anna had been worried about her husband. He was different, he had changed, and she was beginning to think she knew why.

Anna planned to talk to John that night. When he got home, it was clear he was trying. He held Elizabeth and then put her on her belly so she could work on lifting and supporting her head on her own, something she was only starting to do at 3 months. He helped Johnny with working his own buttons and combed out a knot in Maggie's doll's hair.

When bedtime came and Anna told the children to go wash up and change for bed, Maggie started to demand attention.

It was clear she was jealous of how much attention her siblings received. Johnny was the oldest and the only boy, and Elizabeth was the baby and was still in need in so many ways.

"Daddy, carry me," Maggie insisted over and over though John had told her no.

"Daddy will be up in a moment," he said softly. "Go ahead with your brother."

"I don't want to," Maggie fussed. "Carry me up, Daddy!"

Maggie flung her arms around John's leg and held tight. It was his good leg, but still, even the thought of carrying his three soon to be four year old daughter up a flight of steps turned his stomach.

Anna tried to intervene, "Maggie, you heard Daddy, now go on."

With Maggie's continued refusal, the unthinkable happened. John had rarely been short with the children before, but he had doled out a fair share of spankings and smacks, the same as Anna for misbehavior, but never in anger. John had never, ever lost his temper with his children. Never say never.

"Margaret Mary Bates!" John barked in a tone to rival any he used in the Army. "Get yourself and your whining up those stairs and stop playing up! You are nearly four, you can walk."

Maggie stood shocked. John's voice was booming and his face was flushed. When she didn't move, John leaned over, took her by the arm, and delivered two, swift whacks to her bottom and renewed his order. "Get upstairs!"

Maggie began to cry as John gasped at his own actions and covered his mouth with his hand. Anna moved in quickly to diffuse the situation before it got worse.

"I'll do this, John," Anna said very quietly. "You go and settle yourself. Maggie, come on."

Anna took Maggie by the hand and took her up to her bedroom. John turned and went to their bedroom where Elizabeth was sleeping. He sank down on the bed, his throat closing with disbelief. He wanted to apologize for his actions, to go to his precious Margaret Mary and tell her how sorry he was. But he couldn't. She'd been wrong. She had misbehaved and if he apologized he would undermine the sense of discipline he and Anna tried to instill on her. He had crossed the line. He had lost his temper and struck his little girl in anger. He vowed to himself he never would do so, that his children would never fear him. He also vowed he would never become a useless albatross for his wife, but it seemed both those things went up the river.

When Anna returned from quieting the situation upstairs and went into their room it was clear how angry she was. She put her hands on her hips and looked him dead in the eye. "Mr. Bates, I do not know what's gotten into you these last few weeks, and I have turned a blind eye to it hoping you would work through it and turn it around, but I can see now you either can't or won't."

"Anna," John sighed.

"No," Anna countered. "When we got married and started to think of a family you said you would never do this. You said you never wanted to be like your own father, taking your problems out on the children…"

John's head was aching, his leg burned, he couldn't even form words, his entire body and soul was enveloped in pain. "If we didn't spoil her so, spoil them all, they…"

"And put the blame back on them. They are spoiled…I can't even…" Anna turned away a moment, stifling tears. "Tell me, John."

"Tell you what?" John snapped. "That I blew it? That I screwed up yet again, alright there, I said it!"

Anna turned on her heel and headed straight for the door. She had to get out of there, she had to get away from him before she said something they would both regret.

A/N: So, what is going on with John? And what does Anna think it might be? Let me know your guess!