Diamond in the Rough: Chapter 25

Todd pushed his way through the cubicle curtains and pulled himself together.  Blair was in Dorian's arms in the waiting room, and Sam was on Timothy's lap.  Though Kelly and Cassie had gone home, Todd noticed that Dorian had stayed.  He said to his wife, "Are you all right, Babe?"


Dorian said, "She is.  The question is, are you?"


Blair sat up straight, "I'm all right, Todd."  She took his hand.  "Is Jack awake?"


"Jack's fine.  He's resting.  He'll pull through, and we'll get him the help he needs."  He saw Starr rounding the corner, and put his hand out to her.  She went to his other side and put her head on his shoulder.


Timothy said, "We're not leaving ya.  We already made that decision.  We had a long talk, Dorie and I," he said, reaching for her hand.


She smiled weakly, and turned to Blair, "Want some coffee, or something?"


"No, not now, thanks."


Starr said, "He's all right, that's what matters.  I think I'll go home, and bring Sam with me.  How about a sleep over with me, Grandma Addie and Hope?"


What would usually have been a shout and running around everyone was simply, "Yeah, okay." 


She took his hand, "Well, come on then."


He went to Todd and Blair, and hugged them both.  "Bye Mom, bye Dad."  The little boy hugged Timothy and Dorian.  "Bye."


"He's  the most beautiful little soul."  Blair said.


"Look at who his mother is,"  Timothy said.  He kissed Blair on the forehead.  


Todd said, "So, now what?"


"It's four in the morning already.  I don't suppose anyone is going home?"  Dorian said.


Todd and Blair, both exhausted, shook their heads no.  


"Then breakfast it is,"  Timothy said.  "Come on, my treat, eh?"


"Only if I'm included,"  they heard a familiar voice and turning, saw Sister Rebecca Katherine.  "Sorry I'm late, I had to wait for the driver to wake and come out to St. Anne's, Dears.  Is Jack all right?"


"Jack is going to be fine," Timothy  said.


"Thank the good Lord for that," she said.  "I prayed the whole way here."


"Someone was listening,"  Blair said,  "he'll  be okay."


"We're off to breakfast, let's go, a change of scenery is warranted."   Timothy said.


Todd had difficulty motivating himself to leave his son.  Still emotionally reeling from Jack's despair, he lagged.  Blair took notice and said,  "Hey, you.  You must be hungry."


If I can ever eat again.  His stomach was in knots.  "I guess so."


Timothy took the response as a signal.  "Ladies, go ahead and clear a path for us hungry men,"  he said, "We will be along shortly."


Blair's expression was one of panic.  Todd said, "Babe, I'll  be right there.  The nun's got your back."


Sister Rebecca Katherine took her arm.  "Bridgette, stick by me.  They'll be along soon."   Dorian lagged behind, and Todd leaned forward and put his head into his hands.  


Timothy took charge, sitting by him, patting his back.  "Son, it will be all right."


Todd was overwhelmed. "He's falling apart.  It reminds me . . ."


Timothy said, "Of yourself, as a teenager, after Peter Manning abused ya so badly."

"That scares me.  I thank God every day he never had to deal with the likes of that pervert."

"Ya musn't project that on Jack.  He's having a hard time yes, but he hasn't been shattered like ya have.  Being molested is much different than what Jack has dealt with." 


"Oh my God,"  Dorian said, quietly, putting her hand over her mouth.


Timothy  went on, "But ya did not have a father that ya considered your hero, that would comfort and love ya.  Ya must remember that he will be leaning on ya, and that he has ya to help him. . . As ya have me, Lad."


Todd did not answer.  And Dorian, in her shock at hearing this development in Todd's past, held her words, but her eyes were brimming.


As he comforted his surrogate son, Timothy saw the doctor approaching.  "He's awake again. He seems to be asking for one of you."


"Todd, if ya would, grant me the opportunity to see the boy."  Timothy said.


"I'd appreciate it, honestly, since I don't want him to see me like this.  And, I'd . . .  better get back to Blair.  She can't be doing to well right now, after almost losing him."  He pulled himself together, and Dorian looked on.


They watched Todd go, and Dorian's face showed a combination of pity and surprise.  Timothy said, "I'll see to Jack," as Dorian's phone rang.


Timothy pushed open the curtain, and saw Jack, awake, waiting.  He said, "What's going on, Jack?  Ya asked for us?"


"I wanted to know . . . when I could go home.  I just want to be back there."


"Not for a day or two.  Ya were a pretty sick boy."


"I don't want to stay here.  It's too, I just don't want to stay here."


"Then, I suppose ya should have thought about that before ya landed yourself here."


"What do you mean?"


"Ya thought of no one but yourself, when ya picked up that bottle.  Ya didn't think of Little Sam, your brother, or Starr, your sister.  Ya never thought of your father, who would have hated himself for the rest of his life if ya didn't make it and passed on.  And ya never thought about your mother, who would have probably not survived the loss of another child.  And ya were close to dying, Lad."


"So, what are you?  The police or something?"


"No.  I'm your family, whether ya consider me that or not.  You were being selfish.  And I know about it, because I was selfish for years and almost lost everything and everyone that meant anything to me."


Jack just stared straight ahead.


"We know you're in pain.  We know you're suffering.  But ya should have told your father and your mother more about what ya were feeling, so they could help ya.  And ya tried to drown it all out with the booze, and it just doesn't work.  Ya have those parents who love ya, who want to help.  Your father talks to ya, gives you the chance to be honest with him, and ya choose to drink.  Ya could have killed yourself, and that would have killed them.  Have ya thought of that?  Have ya?"


Jack didn't answer.  He hadn't thought of it, not that way.  He only though of the feeling of being numb, of not having to feel.  Of sleep.


"Did ya hear your mother, crying, weeping?  Did it upset ya?  What would she have been doing if ya died tonight?  What is this about?"


"I didn't mean to hurt anyone, I just wanted to fade away.  I wanted to get away from it.  I didn't want to hear the voices in my head, telling me everything.  Didn't want to think of what Dad went through, trapped like that, and he thinks he deserves it.  And Mrs. Morasco, dead . . ."


"Your mind has worked overtime, eh?  Creating that scene?  The one about what you deserve and what your punishments will be?"  The boy nodded, and tears flowed.  "Jack, I'm going to help ya.  I promise ya that."  He took his hand to the back of the boy's neck and patted there, strongly.  "I won't let ya deal with this alone.  You and I, we're going to fix all of this.  And I can tell ya how, since I had to do it myself.  Did ya know why I drank?"


Jack shook his head no.


Timothy said, "My son and wife were murdered, in front of me.  Shot dead.  He was six, and looked like Sam."


Jack swallowed, and stared at Timothy, crying.  


"I saw them gunned down.  And I wanted to forget and never see that again.  And I drank.  I drank myself into a stupor a lot of my life.  And I almost lost everything.  I almost lost your father and your mother, and you, my second chance at a family.  I had an excuse to feel bad.  To want to escape.  But I had no excuse to hurt anyone else because of my choices and my addiction to the drink.  And ya won't either, boy.  You will face this, and deal with it.  All of us have things.  There are things your father has endured that ya know little about.  Everyone has pains.  You're no different and you'll not let it make ya bring pain to others.  And I'll help ya.  Now, come and let me hug ya."


Jack sat up, immediately, and went into Timothy's arms, and through his silent tears, Timothy could feel him sigh with relief.  "I'll help ya, I promise."  The older man said.


Dorian, standing outside the cubicle curtain, had heard every word that Timothy had said to Jack, and wiping her tears with a tissue, she turned from the curtains and walked to the sitting area to wait for Mr. Timothy Broderick.


*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Your comments are 'payment' for the work of the authors. Our writers like to hear your feedback. Please leave a comment when you read.