Grief Revisited
Darkness comes over the city as my husband finally gives into the sedative
he's been given. I put the quilt over
him and turn off the light before heading out to the sitting area to check on
everyone else.
Despite my attempt to get them to leave, get some sleep, regroup, eat etc,
they're all still sitting here. I can't
help but remember the last time they all sat here in their grief. We were mourning Mrs. Landingham and tonight
things seem eerily similar although Leo is hanging on by sheer will or stubbornness.
CJ's curled up on the loveseat, piles of memos in her lap, glasses perched
on the end of her nose. She looks
overwhelmed by her grief and her new lofty position.
Toby's at the opposite end of the loveseat, feet on the coffee table, glass
of Jack Daniels in his hand. He's
scribbling notes on the legal paper he's propped up on his knees.
Will is on the couch looking unsure if he should even be here. He fit in well at Camp David,
the guys bonded over basketball, beer and late night raids on the kitchen, but
sitting in the midst of grief and fear for someone he doesn't know all that
well, he just looks uncomfortable.
I notice Margaret's spot is now empty.
She left for the hospital after I took Jed into the bedroom. She organized memos, notes and other things
for CJ. The evidence of the meticulous
work in a neat stack on the coffee table next to Toby's feet.
Charlie is standing guard outside my bedroom door in case Jed needs
anything. A highly unlikely scenario, at
least for the next few hours.
Curled up in the corner of the room is the one I'm most worried about,
outside of Jed. Josh is sitting in an
overstuffed chair, his knees pulled up to his chest. There are dark circles under his eyes and his
hair is sticking up in directions I didn't think possible. "Lost" would be the best word to describe
what I see. First Donna, and now Leo, I
honestly don't know how much more he can take.
He's beyond exhausted, having never quite had a chance to recover from
the jetlag from his trip back from Germany. Tired of keeping everything inside he's
wearing his emotions on his sleeve. No
matter how many times he scrubs at his cheeks the tears just keep falling. I'm about to go over and see what I can do to
help when his cell phone rings. He's
clearly startled by it and it takes a few seconds for him to dig it out of his
pocket. The change in him is
instantaneous as he looks at the Caller ID.
He lets out a breath I'm sure he didn't know he was holding as he
staggers to his feet to take the call in private.
The sound of the phone ringing and Josh stumbling down the hall seem to cause
the rest of the group to start to stretch and gather their things. In my mind I can hear Jed ask, "what's
next?" Toby slips on his shoes,
picks up the nearly empty glass and helps CJ to her feet. Will mutters something about the OEOB as he
wipes his glasses on his shirt tail.
Charlie stands and tucks his shirt back in before straightening his
tie. "Is there anything you need
ma'am?" he askes as he starts to head towards the West Wing. I assure him I'm fine. Everyone else waves in
my direction and heads out of the room.
I turn to go back into my bedroom when I spot Josh down the hall. He's sitting on the floor talking on the
phone. He's picking at a piece of tape
which is still stuck to the carpet, a remnant of my husband's pitching
lesson. He looks a little better, from
what I can see, it's a little dark as the broken lamp hasn't been replaced yet.
Donna's no doubt putting aside her own pain and fears to help him deal
with his. They're quite a pair, I just
wish they'd realize it. As we've learned
all too well this past week or so, life's too short to let things pass us by.
Jed's asleep when I peek my head in the doorway so I sneak back out and
head to grab something to eat. Josh
pulls his knees up so I can pass by him.
I had planned on just walking by him, not wanting to disturb his
conversation but my motherly instincts came on strong and I couldn't just pass
him by. I knelt down next to him and
kissed his forehead like I use to do when the girls were little. With a weary smile he lets me know my actions
are appreciated. He turns his attention
back to Donna and I hear him tell her what I just did. I can hear her giggle from across the Atlantic.
The phone rings as I get into the kitchen.
I pick it up with a lump in my throat. "Mallory O'Brien," the
operator announces. I sit down on a
stool and take a deep breath.
"Mallory, honey, what's happening?"
As Mallory starts to talk I look up to see Josh standing in the doorway,
looking absolutely terrified. I point to
a chair and he sits before his knees give out completely and he ends up
crumpled on the floor.
“Dad’s out of surgery and things look good,” Mallory says with a clear sigh
of relief.
Thank God.
I give Josh a thumbs up and his
tears start all over again.
THE END
