Come, Josephine

Chapter 58

1928
Josephine
Ruth died that night. Mamma held her hand as she slipped away, forever unmoving until the last minute. She was calm, and dedicated, and unwavering.
After it has happened, she sat silently for a long, tense time. She released Ruth's hand, and Jack helped her up from her seat. He took her out of the room, and I was alone with Ruth for a final time.
I took in her pale, rigid form. The way her hands lay limp, almost unnaturally, on the bed. I recoiled.
   I too went out into the open air of the front garden. Mamma sat, unmoving, on bench, Jack knelt at her feet. He remained silent, rubbing her arms.
   "I was a terrible daughter, wasn't I?" She said, in a hollow, tinny voice.
   "No, my dear, no. You did your best-"
   Her head shot up, "I was horrible!"
   "And she was a horrible mother," he said, firmly, "Rose-"
   "She wasn't, I-" at last, she broke down into curdling sobs, her head falling to her hands.
   "Oh, Rose," he withdrew a little, studying her as a whole. "I'm sorry. I know that she was a different person to you than she was to me..."
   "I've just been so selfish- she was right!"
    "She wasn't, Rose. You've done nothing but put others first. You know that."
   "I can't live with this," she cried harder, "I should have taken better care of her. I shouldn't have run away."
   "Please," he said, softly, "you need to rest. This can't be good for you or the baby. Come on, let's go inside."
   She let him help her up and guide her back inside the house. As they passed me, he mouthed across to me, "your ma needs to lie down, I'll come outside in a bit."
   I watched them go inside. As I turned, I felt Nick's gentle hand on my arm, "you alright?"
   "Yes," I felt tears rising in my throat.
   "You're not alright."
"No, I'm not alright." I turned to face him, "what do I do with myself?"
He opened his arms, and I went into his embrace, "I don't know what to do."
"You don't have to do anything." He said, "come on, sit down here and take my coat."
I let him place his jacket around my shoulders, too drained to speak. I sat down on the top step, and he followed suit.
We sat in silence until the moon arced over our heads, moving from between cloud after cloud. Eventually, Jack emerged from the house, "your ma's okay," he said, "she's finally asleep."
I let out a sigh of relief, and he sat down on the other side of me, "are you okay, Josie?"
"I'm fine, just worried about mamma."
"She'll be okay," he gave a grim smile, "you know that."
A moment of silence elapsed, "you two should go inside and get some sleep too- I'll stay up with your ma."
"I'll walk you to your room," Nick said, " if that's alright with you, Mr Dawson?"
"You might as well stay in her room tonight," he said, "keep an eye on her. I trust you."
"Thank you, sir."
Nick took me upstairs, waiting outside the door until I had changed. He helped me into bed, with gentle, cautious hands.
   He settled into the armchair beside the bed, as if preparing for a long night spent watching over me. I let out a heavy sigh.
   "You don't need to worry about me, Nick, I'm fine."
   "You don't need to put on a brave face," he said, leaning closer.
    "I'm not- I didn't know her that well, and as much as it's sad, I'm okay, really- I'm worried about mamma, though."
   "You're sure?" He cocked his head, studying my face.
   "Yes- Nick, I won't have you suffering another sleepless night on my count- please, go to bed."
   "I'm happier with watching you," he admitted, "besides, I've grown fond of this old chair."
   I watched how he ran his hand along the rolled leather arm of the chair. I smiled, "Your certain that you want to stay up here?"
   "Always."
    I inched over in the bed, lifting the covers, "then will you lie beside me?"
   "Jack will have me shot..."
   "He won't know- he'll be busy watching mamma," my heart dropped, but I forced my face to remain light.
Nick noticed the change in my expression, "she'll be fine," he said, sliding into the bed, "and you'll be okay, too."
He wrapped his arms around me, easing me into his side, "you can cry, you know."
"But it's not my grief to feel..."
"But your frightened, and that's enough."
I didn't cry, but I sunk further into his embrace, "I just want to go home. We all need to go home."
"I know," squeezed my arm, "but right now, you need to sleep."
He held me until I fell asleep, and in the morning, he was still there.