Generations: The Long Game

We Need Our Village

TW: insinuation and discussion of potentially fatal disease, illness

He slapped the alarm into silence. He wasn't moving from this spot. Not today. He pulled her in, being careful not to injure her now frail body. He still couldn't believe she was here. Thirty days. Thirty days since he held her outside of the hospital. Thirty days since he woke to her in his arms. He wasn't going to the restaurant. Not today. He texted Claude and filled him in. His staff was very efficient. They could do without him for a day or two. He traced patterns on her bare arm as he lay there thinking about how much their life had changed in the last three months.

Her body was so thin and frail. How could she fight anything this weak? His eyes burned with tears, but he blinked them away and picked up his phone. His first line of defense had always been research. For the next hour while his family slept, he searched for ways to make her stronger and help her fight. Food? He could do food. Cancer fighting properties in food. He wasn't even sure he believed it, but some of it at least had science behind it. That had to mean something.

Rory let out a wail and he extracted himself from her and moved gingerly out of the bed. He scooped up the little girl and attempted to settle her. "It's okay. Daddy is here." He nuzzled the little girl into his chest and quickly moved from the room. As he made his way to the kitchen, he heard noises. Someone was in there. He turned on his heals and made his way back to the lounge. After placing Rory under the play gym, he grabbed the poker from the fireplace and made his way back stealthily to the kitchen. He swung the door open with such force it bounced off the wall.

"Jesus Christ, Reecy! Her whole body jumped, and she tossed the spatula across the room.

"Mia! What are you doing here?" He was perplexed at why she would show up. Now that Marjorie was home, she could have gone back to the office or spent a day with Char and the kids. Yet here she stood in his kitchen.

"What do you mean? Marjorie is going to be up soon. She needs to eat. She needs to take her medication. She ... she ... didn't tell you." She looked away.

"Tell me what, Mia? Don't just stand there! Speak!" His face was screwed up in frustration and anger. She reached her hand out to him, but he slapped her away. "Just go, Mia! Get out!"

As she backed up, she turned the stove top off. "Okay, Reecy, I am going. I have all her things sat out on the table. You'll have to follow the directions." She never turned from him until she got to the kitchen door. "Reece, I uh..."

"Just go, Mia." He had clenched his jaw so tightly his words were barely audible. As Rory cried out, he took a deep breath and tried to relax his tensed muscles. He grabbed the bottle Mia had already been warming and turned to go to the lounge when he saw her standing in the doorway. "Gorgeous, you alright?"

She looked like she was about to fall over, and he moved swiftly to get her seated. "Go, Reece, go take care of her. She is hungry." He lingered longer than he should have. "Gorgeous, I..."

"Reece! Go! She is hungry!"

He turned quickly on his heals and returned to the lounge. "It's okay Rory. Daddy has you now." He leaned her back against the crook of his arm and gave her the bottle while cooing to her and smoothing her tufts of brown hair. She really did look so much like Marjorie. These last few months he had found that difficult. It broke his heart at times to look at her, but he held her a little closer knowing he couldn't hold her mother. Once she was back down and safely snuggled into her crib, he returned to the kitchen.

"Marjorie?"

"Reece, I need you to listen. I don't want to be angry, and I don't want to fight. I don't really have the energy for either. I know you think you can do this all on your own, but you can't. I will not have you making decisions between caring for me and caring for our children. I will not be the reason she has to wait for a bottle, or he has to wait for a bedtime story. I will not be the reason our children don't receive the love we promised each other they would get. You promised Reece. You need to call Mia and you need to apologize. We need her. I need her."

"But..."

"No!" She was shouting again, but she stilled herself before continuing. "You take care of them. Let Mia do this. When they are down for the night you can hold me, and she can go. During the day she or someone else stays. We need our village, Reece. I can't help you with them. I can't... I ..."

The tears started to fall and his heart broke. He pulled her into his embrace. Willing her to be well again. Willing her to be free of this thing. Willing her to live. "I'll call her. I'll get her back."