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How does one mend someone else's broken heart? Do they simply stand there beside them in silence catching them at each stumble or do they stand at an arm's length only going to the rescue when they are called for. Josephine was a shell. The light in her eyes dimmed and the skip in her step more of a limp. I knew as much as she was telling me she slept wonderfully she wasn't. Every night was the same she would toss and turn until she gave up and snuck out of the room. Ada told me not to mention it. To let her grieve at her own pace, but it was torturing me. Tommy was worse. I originally thought they would find solace in one another. They did not. Jo would barely even talk to her sisters. I knew this wasn't for lack of trying. Dorothy was off in Paris drinking away her sorrows blaming herself for every hardship they had all faced. Even when she did answer the phone what she was saying was so inaudible you had to end the call. Tommy sent blinders to watch her making sure she didn't wake up dead. Jo wouldn't be able to handle that phone call. Another Jennings sister down. Another funeral for a young woman who still had so much life to live. Then there was Beth. How that women handled loss so gracefully mesmerized me. She was there Ada. Maybe it was the looming motherhood or the fact that at least one of them had to be level headed. She did what she could for Jo but one can only do so much for a person telling them they don't wish to be helped.
"Ada said she pressed your dress and Tommy sent a car that should be here shortly," I popped my head into the room watching as she finished up her makeup and carefully stepped out of her dressing gown. She was thinner. Almost sickly. I had to avert my eyes so I did not give away my worry. Would she simply starve herself to death. Or could I just hold onto the hope that Polly was right in thinking Jo would wake up one day and be her old self again. "Jo love."
"Just about ready," she smiled weakly slipping in the oversized blue fabric. Still beautiful. Still Jo. Still the love of my life. "You headed there to?" I nodded walking over to her so I could help zip up her dress. "Better fix your tie then."
"What's wrong with my tie?" I spun her around her small hands danced over the striped fabric. She made fast work of adjusting the mess of a knot I had done. Staring back at her work and grinning up at me.
"What would you do without me finn Shelby?" She teased lightly kissing me. "Probably look like that little boy ripping flowers out of Pollys garden."
"I was ripping them out for you. Or do you not remember that?" I teased leading her out of the room. I would have given anything to spend the day in bed with her. Limbs tangled. Kissing every inch of her skin. But we couldn't. We shouldn't. Not yet at least.
"You were always such a sweet boy, what happened?" We hadn't joked like this in weeks. It was so light hearted and pure, but I could hear the forcefulness in her voice she was faking it well but not well enough. "I was thinking we could go to the pub after shift. Just for a drink or two Pol and Ada agreed. Just need you now."
"I'll go wherever you go. You know that." I helped her into the car pulling her as close to me as I possibly could.
"I know." The weakness coated her voice again. I could not mend her heart in a day. Not in a week. Maybe not in a month, but I would be there as she tried to do it herself. I would be her constant in the chaos. The light in the dark. That's what you do for love. "Like Ada loved Freddie."
