July 30th, 2021
I talked to my dad today. I had therapy this morning and she encouraged me to reach out to him, see how he is, make myself feel better and not like a shit daughter. Guess I'm still kind of shit though for doing it for me and not him. Oh well.
This bit of the story is still a bit of a blur to me, I was stuck between dreaming and awake all the time and I cant quite remember was was real or not still, so I phoned a friend in for this trip down memory lane. Harry helped me remember this part, and thank god for that.
What would I have ever done without him?
Jo.
Harry
My hands shook as I approached the front door of the small house tucked into the quiet street. The paint on the siding was chipped and sun-bleached, it matched the furniture on the porch.
The steps were slightly warped as I walked up them and stood with my feet on the faded welcome mat. I stood alone, no security guards, no management, no assistance. Just me, shaking hands and a heartbeat pounding in my ears.
As I brought my fist to the door to knock three times, I remembered the events of the last 24 hours.
I'd been in a meeting, discussing safety precautions and rooming arrangements for the North American leg of the tour, when my phone rang.
I typically keep it on silent, especially for meetings, but I hadn't heard from Jo in so long that I refused to miss her if she called. My phone stayed on full volume.
The shrill ringing interrupted Jeff as he spoke and my hands flew to the device, willing her name to light up my screen. When I saw Frankie's name my heart sank.
"Frankie, what's wrong, what's happened?" I was speaking quickly, in a hurry to find out what was happening.
"We've never seen her like this, Harry. I don't know what to do. It's bad, Harry. It's really, really bad and I'm- I'm scared she might hurt herself."
I thought I was going to be sick. My stomach twisted and clenched as my heart caught in my throat, threatening to end me. I could hear the tears in his eyes forming in his words. He was scared and I was terrified.
I didn't have any logical thoughts other than the need to get to her as quickly as possible. I didn't how the fuck I was going to be able to help, but I knew I'd try.
"I'll be on the next flight out. Fuck, I'm in London, but I'll be there as soon as I can." My mind was racing, panic spread through my chest and it became hard to catch a full breath.
"Get me a plane! Jeffrey! I need a plane, right now!" I knew it was irrational but I didn't care. What was the point of being famous if I couldn't abuse that power once in a while? I needed a fucking plane.
Jeffrey looked at me like I was insane but when I met his eyes he understood the severity of the situation and immediately got to work on his phone. I tipped my head in apology at the security exec we had in our meeting and I took off out of the room. I needed to pack. I needed to go. I needed to get there faster. "I'll go right now, I'm going. I'll be there."
"Are you running?" He asked, and I realized that I was. I was running down the street, toward the car that was waiting for us.
"Yes. I was in a meeting, but I'm not anymore. I'll be in the air within 3 hours, I'll make sure of it. Take care of my girl until I get there, please. I'll be there as fast as that plane with fucking fly." I was throwing the door open and flinging myself into the backseat. I slapped the passenger headrest a few times and pointed at the GPS on the dash waiting to take me back to my house.
I needed to get back there, I had to go home.
"I will. Oh shit, she's not in New York. I'll send you the address, just let me know when you land...she doesn't know I called."
Where the fuck was she? Why wasn't she in New York anymore? What the fuck was going on? Did she meet someone? Did someone hurt her? My mind would not shut the fuck up, but it didn't matter.
I didn't care. I had to go to her.
"Fuck. Don't care, I'll be there." I was out of breath, the panic and the exertion from running were wearing me out.
"Thanks, Harry. See you soon." He was crying again.
"Thank you for calling, Frankie." I couldn't thank him enough. I couldn't put into words what it meant to me that he would call and let me be there for her.
I had forgotten that bit where he said that she didn't know he called.
Three knocks on the door of her childhood home and hundreds of butterflies in my stomach. She didn't ask for me. I'm here, but she didn't ask for me.
Miranda opened the door with a small and weak smile on her face. She looked absolutely exhausted. She held the door open and gestured me in, I noticed small cuts on her hands. I wondered how long she'd been here and what she'd seen. My guess was that she called Frankie when she couldn't do it alone, and the thought that Frankie had to call me for even more support made my stomach turn again.
My poor Jo. I just wanted to know what happened. I just wanted to fix it, to make it all better for her, whatever it was.
As I stepped into the living room I noted a few things. First, all the kitchen cabinets were open and empty. There was a cardboard box full of plates and bowls, but the shelves were bare like they were packing to move. There was also a clear Tupperware bin holding all of the silverware and knives. The only thing in the kitchen were paper plates and plastic utensils.
"Are you packing?" I asked Miranda.
"Just breakables and sharp things." She muttered toward the ground.
I knew that my face twisted up in pain when my brain made the connection.
"Did she hurt herself? Is she okay? What happened? I don't understand what's going on." Normally I wouldn't push for information but everything I learned made me more frightened.
"She's sleeping now, she's alright. Uhm...Her uh, Her mom's gone. Her mom killed herself."
Fuck.
"Fuck. In the facility?" Miranda just nodded her head softly.
"I don't know how I thought she'd react, but it wasn't this. She's really struggling. She can't sleep, she wakes up screaming. I moved her dad to a hotel so that he could worry about himself and his own grieving. I've been trying, really, I have. She's my best friend but I'm at a loss. I don't know what to do, she just-"
I put my hands on her shoulders and stopped her. "Hey, Miranda, stop. You've done incredible. You've done everything. You've given her everything you can, you've cared for her with everything you've got, and you've done it right. You did it all right. Can I hug you?"
She was crying softly and nodded a couple of times so I gently wrapped my arms around her shoulders and held her for a moment. I couldn't imagine the pressure she was feeling and the weight of the exhaustion on her shoulders.
Grief was a monster, a sneaky one too, you never knew how big it would grow or how to mean it could be until it showed you. Sometimes a whole village could fight it for you and it would still come for you, relentless fucker.
I felt for Miranda. I knew what carrying that burden felt like.
I let her go and talked with her a little bit more, chatting softly until we heard a voice from behind the door to my left.
"You didn't!" It was Jo.
"Tell me you didn't, Frankie!!" She was shouting rather loudly. Miranda looked up at me with a sad smile.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do, he's the only person I can think of that can help, Jo." Frankie pleaded with her as we inched closer to the door.
"I told you not to! I don't want him to see me like this, Frankie! He can't see me like this!" Her voice shook with tears and my hand immediately went toward the door, but Miranda stopped me from grabbing the doorknob and gave me a head shake.
"Jo, babe he doesn't care. He just wants to be here for you. You guys were best friends, I think that he can help."
"You think so, Frankie!? What are you? Huh! What is Miranda? Miranda has been my best friend since Elementary school. If she can't help me, what makes you think he can!? You've been my best friend longer! If the two of you can't help me then I'm fucking hopeless, Frankie. There's nothing he can do. He can't give me anything that you two can't or haven't already. I cannot drain the life out of another person, I won't. I don't want him here, send him back."
My chest hurt. My lungs burned and my ribs ached, my heart pounded against them violently, beating itself black and blue at her words.
Let me love you, Jojo.
"Jo. You know he can give you something we can't. You know he can lo-"
"Shut up, Frankie. Do not finish that sentence. I'm going to sleep, please send him back to wherever you drug him away from.
I backed away from the door quietly and Miranda followed me. I only had two rings on but I spun them both wildly, my emotions were at war with themselves. I knew I wasn't fucking leaving, but I wanted to respect her space and her wishes.
Should I stay in a hotel?
Is there a hotel in this town? Oh right, her dad is at once.
Should I try to talk to her tomorrow or give her more time?
What will I do if she doesn't want to see me?
Who am I supposed to talk to about this? I have so many questions, but I can't lay them on Miranda, she's done enough.
Then I got an idea.
I asked Miranda about the hotel and if I could walk to it, and when she said that I could if I didn't mind a bit of a walk, I asked her about a detour that I had in mind.
I turned left at Mrs. Hastings, walked past Billy Crusher, Samuel Edmonds, and Catherine Farley before I found the man I was looking for.
Joseph Daniel McArthur
I stood there for a moment, took a deep breath in, and just stared at his name, this place that held him, the man who molded my Jojo into who she is.
I wondered what he'd think of me. If I was worthy of sharing that nickname with him if he'd be happy to know that she was loved by me.
God, she is so deeply loved by me.
I adjusted the waist of my pants and sat myself down on the grass in front of him. I was more nervous than I thought I'd be. I'd never done something like this before.
I cleared my throat and ran a hand down my face, shaking off the worry that I'd be photographed here, talking to a headstone.
I cleared my throat, and just went for it.
"Uhh, hello. I'm Harry. I, uh, I'm a friend of Jo's. Yeah, I suppose we're friends. Hm. You ever fallen in love with your friend, Joseph? Bit of a fucking mess if I'm honest. I've recently let myself say it out loud, admit it to myself, and now I can't seem to stop. I hope that doesn't upset you, I'd like to think that we'd get along well. I've heard you liked my music a bit, and I'm truly flattered. I think we would have gotten on good."
I laughed to myself softly and ran my hands down my legs, trying to settle myself into what I was doing and be open to anything he had to share with me.
"I need some advice, Sir. I don't quite know how to navigate this situation, I don't know what she needs from me right now or how I can help. I can't make it better, I can't fix it, but I want to help her. What am I supposed to do if she doesn't want me here? Am I making it worse? Am I wrong for going against her wishes? If she had a valid reason for not wanting me I think it would be easier to go, but she just kept telling Frankie that she didn't want me to see her like this."
The wind picked up and goosebumps covered my body. I ran my hands up and down my legs, trying to settle the bare skin that my shorts didn't cover.
I get it now. That feeling, like I just know he's listening.
My sinuses stung, and my eyes welled up at the thought of him understanding what I'm doing here.
"Thank you, for listening. I, uh...I haven't done this in a very long time."
I wonder if mum does this.
"Any help and guidance you can give would be greatly appreciated. I just want to know how to love her the way she needs right now. I want her to know that she's loved and that she's going to be okay, I'll make sure of it."
Another gust of wind blew through the trees in front of me, it smelled like fresh-cut grass and it made me smile."
"She must know, right? That I'm in love with her? I feel like I couldn't make it more obvious, but then again what do I know?"
I chuckled lightly to myself and closed my eyes as I turned my head up to the sun, basking in its warmth momentarily.
"What do I do, Gramps?"
~
A couple of hours later I was back on the worn-out welcome mat.
I sat at the cemetery for another half an hour and then decided to take a walk. I'd found a small supermarket and picked up some groceries for them. I made sure to grab some produce, yogurt, and everything I needed to make grilled cheese and tomato soup.
Jo didn't cook when she was sad. She'd fill her body with frozen snacks and goldfish crackers until she just felt worse, so I wanted to make sure I could take care of her body as well as her mind and heart.
I wasn't sure how I was going to tackle all three when she didn't really want me there, but I had a new sliver of confidence from my chat with her grandfather.
I walked a couple of blocks back to their house with the brown paper bags full of groceries bundled in my arms. I was lucky the town was small and pretty much impossible to get lost in, however, I did walk down the wrong street three times before I finally found it.
I had no plan to convince her that I would be helpful, but I had faith in something that she would let me be there for her.
I stood at the door and knocked again, but instead of Miranda's tired eyes, I was met with Frankie's. They were swollen and red-rimmed, he'd been crying again.
When his eyes met mine they filled with tears again but a bright smile overtook his face. "You didn't leave."
"What?" I asked.
"You didn't leave. You came back." I was completely dumbfounded that they thought I would just leave like that.
"Of course I didn't leave, don't be ridiculous Frankie. Can I come in?" I raised an eyebrow at him and he sniffled and moved out of the way, opening the door wide for me.
"Please do."
I brought the bags into the kitchen which was void of packing boxes at that point, just the paper plates and plastic utensils on the counter. Frankie helped me put things away while I poured him a large glass of ice water and set it on the counter.
When he glanced at it and then at me I raised a brow at him again. He gave me a small smile and quickly grabbed it to drink, I could hear him gulp it down.
"If you two don't start taking care of yourselves I'm going to send you to the hotel with her father. You cannot
neglect your care as a sacrifice for hers."
"No, we're okay it's not-" He tried to give me excuses
Miranda was nowhere to be found so I assumed she was with Jo, which was probably good because Frankie had already taken a verbal beat down today and I didn't want to witness him get another one.
"It wasn't a suggestion, Frankie. You two look exhausted. I'm hoping that tomorrow you guys can have the day off and get some rest, but you have to take care of yourselves or you'll be of no help to her." He nodded slowly and I wrapped an arm around his shoulders, holding him to me tightly while he took a deep breath and steadied himself.
In the next second, the energy of the room changed drastically. We could hear her gasp in a breath from behind her bedroom door in the hallway and we moved quickly, separating from each other we rushed toward the white painted door at the end of the hall.
She was quicker than us though. She'd ripped it open and stumbled into the hallway gasping for air with tears in her eyes and a hand on her chest. I moved toward her on instinct, my hands reached for her, my arms ached to hold her close, and then my brain reminded me that she didn't want me there.
I didn't want to scare her.
Her eyes met Frankie first as a sob left her mouth and then they fell to me. Her eyes shut tightly and another sob wracked her chest. She began to move and I was certain she'd turn back for her room, run away from me, but she didn't.
She took two steps down the hallway as we moved closer to her, and then held her arms toward me.
The smallest gasp filled my lungs before I tucked my arm under hers and wrapped it tightly around her waist and back. Her arms laid limply over my shoulders, my free hand held the back of her head while she buried it in my chest as she cried.
My eyes frantically found Frankie's to see him wipe a tear from his eye with a smile on his face.
I turned my attention back to Jo and rubbed up and down her back slowly, trying to soothe the shaking woman in my arms. She pulled back from my chest and looked up at me before she spoke," I thought it was a dream. I thought I was dreaming but you're here? You're here right? I'm not asleep?"
"You're not asleep, I'm here." I pet my hand down her hair as she felt the curls at the nape of my neck and brought her other hand to the side of my face.
She quickly turned to the side and looked at Frankie in a panic, "Frankie, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said what I didn't, I'm so sor-"
"No. You're fine, Jo. Stop, you're fine, I know. It's okay." Frankie shut her down quickly and shushed her.
She didn't argue with him which was a shock. Instead, she just nodded, closed her eyes, and buried her face back in my neck while her fingers stroked the soft hair at the best of my neck again.
"You tired? I'll lay with you if you'd like" I offered, but she shook her head. Miranda had made her way out into the hall now and was smiling at me.
"I need a shower." She said as she pulled away from me and turned toward Miranda. "Will you keep me company?" She asked and Miranda nodded before grabbing her a towel from the cabinet.
While the girls were in the bathroom I helped Frankie open up the blinds to let some sunlight in. I opened her bedroom windows for some fresh air in the stale room and smiled when I felt the breeze on my skin.
She needed that.
We changed her sheets so she'd have fresh linens to sleep in and I picked up any tissues or dishes that had accumulated over the afternoon. Thank God for Miranda and Frankie, I'd be scared to know what the state of her living conditions would have been if they weren't keeping on top of it.
I decided I'd make everyone dinner tonight and maybe we could watch a movie or something to settle in and adjust to having me there. I really didn't know where we stood or what exactly our dynamic was at the time, but I didn't care as long as my presence made her feel better.
I pulled a few kinds of cheese from the refrigerator and sliced them as evenly as I could while Frankie buttered slices of sourdough bread. Then I assembled four sandwiches on their griddle that we plugged in and let them cook slowly. Patience is key to an excellent grilled cheese and Jojo did not have those, hers always ended up burnt on one side and not fully melted in the middle.
I poured two cans of tomato soup into a pot, added fresh herbs to make it better, and milk instead of water of course for extra creaminess, and then some parmesan cheese for saltiness, it was easy but delicious and I hoped it would make her smile.
She emerged from the bathroom in a pair of sweat shorts and a sweatshirt. I could see the small cuts littering her legs, they were mostly concentrated around her ankles like she had walked through sticker bushes for a long time.
She stepped into the kitchen and the sunlight from outside illuminated just how sunken in her face was, how dark the bags under her eyes were, and how pale her skin looked. Where she was once soft and warm and glowing, she was now lost.
And she was still beautiful.
I passed her a glass of water, well a plastic cup of water, and watched her drink it before I poured her another. I got Miranda one too and refilled Frankie's, making all of them get the hydration that they so desperately needed.
I thought she'd go sit down but instead, she stayed in the kitchen with me, leaned against the island, and watched me stir.
"You want to sit?" I asked as I turned it down to a simmer and then turned back to her. She nodded her head so I walked up to her and gently gripped her waist to lift her onto the kitchen island. Once she was up she held me there between her legs with her hands on each side of my face.
She stroked her thumbs under my eyes softly and brought her face down to mine, she rested her forehead on my own. Our eyes closed and I willed my brain to suck out just a little bit of her pain, if I could absorb just a little bit to take away from her I would.
The moment ended quickly when I smelled the bread getting a little too toasted on the griddle. She laughed as I rushed over to flip them before they could burn and I thought Miranda was going to collapse at the sound.
I poured soup into paper cups, put sandwiches on paper plates, and passed out paper towels before the four of us settled into the living room to watch a movie.
We watched White Chicks which I hadn't seen in a very long time, and all four of us laughed hysterically through it. I was glad to watch them all eat an actual meal, I cut up some fruit and they ate that too. By the end of the film, everyone was full and flushed with color from laughing.
Jo picked friends to watch next and she grabbed a blanket from the basket in the corner. She wrapped herself in it, that little cocoon she does, and then she sat herself on my lap. She sat sideways with her legs on the couch and her back against the arm, but really it was against my arm as I held her up. She leaned into me and laid her head on my shoulder and just sat there quietly as we watched.
"Is this okay?" She asked quietly as we settled in.
"Of course, are you comfortable?" I responded and she nodded.
"Then it's just fine, Darling. Watch the show." I pinched her side lightly and watched her smile a little bit as she leaned back into me.
Soon enough she was drifting in and out of sleep. I said goodnight to Frankie and Miranda, told them I'd take the bedroom shift, and insisted that they get some rest, and then I scooped her body up off my lap and held her to me as I walked her to her bedroom.
She was freshly showered with fresh sheets and the stale smell was gone from the fresh air we let in. I laid her down in her bed and unwrapped the blanket from around her so I could pull her blankets on, but the movement woke her.
"H? Harry?" She mumbled.
"I'm here, Jojo." I stroked her hair away from her face and sat on the edge of her bed.
"Lay with me?"
"Alright, scoot over, you're hogging the bed." She shuffled over and I laid on my back with one arm behind my head.
"Sing to me, please"
"Sing to you? I didn't know I was here to work."
"Shhh, just sing to me, H."
"What do you want to hear?"
"Something lovely," she said.
I thought about it for a minute while she rolled toward me and laid herself down on my chest. One arm went around my waist and the other onto my shoulder to rest under her head as she laid practically on her stomach. I began to gently stroke her hair, pulling it away from her face, and smoothing it down her back. Sure enough, a song came to mind as I held her.
I don't think it can really be considered singing, I was mostly just mumbling softly while we fell asleep, but it seemed to satisfy her.
"I've been waiting for you
To come around and tell me the truth
About everything that you're going through
My girl, you've got nothing to lose"
She stirred gently and placed a soft kiss against the fabric of my t-shirt that covered my chest.
"Cold nights and the Sunday mornings
On your way and out of the gray"
I smiled at the memories of our Sunday mornings. Her back pressed against the windows of the cafe while we drank coffee and read. That hilarious t-shirt she made when the tabloids started reporting that we were dating. The way she'd flick the corners of her cover backs and forth if she was engrossed in something exciting in the plot. Warm croissants, hazelnut lattes, chatter in the background, and my girl in the sun. It was perfection personified and I missed it greatly. Things were so simple back then, so easy. I'd have given anything to have it back.
"I've got time, I've got love
Got confidence you'll rise above
Give me a minute to hold my girl
Give me a minute to hold my girl"
"Crowded town, silent bed
Pick a place to rest your head
Give me a minute to hold my girl
Give me a minute to hold my girl"
I sang it slowly and she drifted off to sleep before the song was finished. I followed shortly behind her, mumbling out the last few lines as I escaped into sleep with her warm body resting on mine.
I wish I could tell you that it was that easy and that every day just got better from there. I wish I could tell you that I held her every night and we watched movies and she just got better, but that's not realistic, and that's not the truth.
As I said, grief is a monster. It took her from me over and over again, every day. It took her from herself. It ate away at her relentlessly, and it brought its friends shame and guilt. They attacked her like vultures, praying on her at her weakest.
The funeral was brutal. I stood back, covered head to toe to minimize the chances of someone recognizing me, but I wanted to hold her so badly. She wept on the ground at her mother's grave, screaming apologies into the fresh dirt that held her.
There weren't many people outside of us there, just a few older women and a man that I assumed was Marcus. He hugged Miranda and when he spoke to Jo, it looked like he was apologizing for something. He also hugged her father and stopped at Joseph's headstone for a moment.
When the few visitors that were there had left, I finally went to her. I didn't ask her to get up, I simply sat behind her and rubbed a hand up her back. I was there for her to fall back into when she exhausted herself until she was ready for another round.
I met her father that day. He was incredibly kind and welcoming, he thanked me a million times for "what I'd done for her" as if she didn't do it all on her own. I told him I'd be there for both of them, whatever they needed. I offered to pay for the service but he refused and I respected that.
I told him I'd talked to Joseph that first day and he hugged me. He thanked me for "getting it" and then he went and stood by his father's grave.
When I did finally get Jo off the ground it was only to move her to Gramps. She spent another hour with him, weeping again as she clung to the lapels of my jacket.
I knew then that this was going to be a much longer road than anyone had anticipated.
___________________
hey, hi, hello
i know. i'm tired of it being sad too. i get it.
love you, thanks for being here. -mo🤍🦋