Jean Louise

"Jean? Jean are you alright?" The voice on the other end of the receiver asked with a sense of urgency. It wasn't until then that she looked at the clock, 2:13 a.m., meaning that it was 3:13 in New York.

"I'm sorry, Cora," Jean Louise said gruffly, finally realizing how tired she was. "I-um, is Toby up?"

Toby was the head of the advertising section of the department store she worked at. Jean Louise supposed he was roughly sixty now, though he would never admit to her his age. She had been eighteen when she met him. Young and full of ambition in New York, though absolutely terrified by the fact that she had planted herself in a new city, hours away from home with no family nearby. He had liked her application, and had decided to hire her before even meeting her. They were like two peas in a pod, sarcastic and wry and cynical, and they took a liking to one another almost instantaneously. He and his wife Cora had never had children, and Jean Louise almost immediately became a part of their family. When they had learned that she was living in a boarding house in a seedy part of town, Toby and Cora had set her up in a new apartment. When a man in the department sexually harassed Jean Louise because he was angry that she was moving up in the ranks and he wasn't, Toby not only fired him immediately, but gave him a verbal lashing that made the co-worker cry. Toby and Cora made her feel safe, a feeling that she had frankly been unfamiliar with since she was sixteen-years-old.

"What's wrong, kid?" Toby sounded tired. Cora had woken him up.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly.

"Don't be," he said. "I had to get up early anyway, you did me a favor."

"It's three am," she pointed out.

"The city never sleeps," he said dramatically. "Now tell me why you aren't in bed."

She froze, trying to think of what to say. "I think I gotta stay in Maycomb longer." She said slowly. She knew he wouldn't be mad, but she was still afraid of what he would ask next. She was only supposed to be there for a week, but that had quickly turned into two weeks. And now she was telling him that she was going to be staying even longer.

"Is everything okay?" He asked quickly, concern growing in his voice. In the distance, she could hear Cora talking – asking what was wrong.

Tears immediately burned her eyes. She should tell him the truth, she thought. Tell him the truth that her father, the man who was usually the calm one, the rational one, was losing grip with reality. That he was forgetting things – where he was, who he was with, what year it was. That no one else seemed to notice, or if they did, they didn't say anything. That she hated Maycomb and the fact that the one person who made it somewhat bearable was rapidly becoming less like the person who had raised her.

"My aunt," she managed to whisper, her voice threatening to reveal her anguish. "It's just hard," she gulped. "She was the closest thing that I had to a mother."

She clamped her eyes shut, a wave of guilt rushing over her. Of course, she wasn't lying. Louise had been the closest thing that Jean Louise had to a mother, but Jean Louise felt as though she was doing her dead aunt a disservice by using her death as an excuse. Louise had barely been put in the ground, and Jean Louise no longer thought about it as she grew more concerned about Atticus. She couldn't help but to think that with each passing day, Jean Louise was forgetting her aunt.

"Oh kid," Toby sighed. Despite the distance between the two of them, Jean Louise could vividly picture him rubbing his brow, which he always did when faced with a tough situation. "You take all the time you need. Are you sure I can't do anything?"

"It's fine," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Thank you."

-o-o-o-

After hardly sleeping for the rest of the night, Jean Louise finally emerged from her room at eleven. Zandra was in the kitchen, looking as though she had been impatiently awaiting her niece's arrival. "Why," Zandra said, eyeing her niece up. "You look downright awful."

"Thanks, Auntie." Jean Louise responded, throwing herself down in one of the chairs. "D'you got any coffee?"

Instead of answering, Zandra rushed to where Jean Louise sat, pressing her hand on her niece's head. When Jean Louise recoiled, she noticed the glimmer of hurt in her Aunt's eyes. "I'm fine," she said quickly. "I just didn't sleep well."

"You look like you've come down with somethin'," Zandra said, reluctantly placing a cup of black coffee in front of her niece. "That's probably why you haven't slept well."

Jean Louise shrugged. "Auntie?" she asked, taking a long sip from her coffee.

"Yes, sweet?"

"Is it alright if I stay longer than I planned?"

"This is your home," Zandra said nonchalantly. "How much longer."

Jean Louise shrugged. "Just longer." She said. "I don't know, a few weeks."

"Is everything alright in New York?"

"Of course it is."

"What's stoppin' you from goin' back?"

"Can't I just want to spend time at my home?" She asked.

"You never want to spend time here."

Despite the fact that Zandra was right, that didn't mean her statement didn't sting Jean Louise. It must've been the spite dripping from Zandra's voice as she said it. "Well, I want to now." Jean Louise said, downing the rest of her coffee in one sip (burning her tongue and throat as she did so). Nosily, she got up from her chair and slammed the cup in the sink.

"Where are you goin'?" Zandra asked.

"Jem's."

-o-o-o-

Jem had been at work when Jean Louise arrived at the house. She probably should have known that, but the days in Maycomb were beginning to blend together and she was beginning to forget what day it was. Carol had asked her to stay for breakfast, and after chugging another cup of coffee with haste, Jean Louise explained that she had to go see Jem and left.

Years ago, before Josie was even born, Jem had confided to her that Carol thought that Jean Louise hated her. When Jean Louise said that she didn't, and she thought Carol was just fine, Jem noted that Carol didn't know how to handle her. She was brash and blunt and sarcastic, always on the go and moving with a level of intensity that Carol was not used to. Carol was a Southern lady through and through. Soft and gentle, speaking slowly and with great care. She was probably everything that Alexandra wanted Jean Louise to be – an angelic figure that would bring grace and integrity to the Finch name.

The exact opposite of what Jean Louise was.

As she walked in the direction of town, she kicked herself for not staying longer. She had told herself years ago that she would actually try to be kinder to Carol (not that she was mean or hated the woman) because it would mean a lot to Jem. Especially after her niece was born, Jean Louise reckoned that she should actually make an effort with Carol.

But that would mean that Jean Louise would have to open herself up to another person.

Before going to Atticus' – actually, Jem's – law office, she stopped by the convenience store again. She bought a cheap bottle of whiskey and two sandwiches, and shoved the paper bag containing the liquor into the pocketbook she brought with her, before making her way to Jem. This was the fourth time that the store clerk saw her, and she wondered if he would dare tell Zandra about Jean Louise's visits. But then, she realized, Zandra would never associate with a man like that.

"You got time for lunch with your sister?" Jean Louise asked as she barged through the door leading to Jem's office, extending the sandwich out towards him.

"Carol made me lunch," he explained. "But, what kind of sandwich is that?"

"The ham one you like."

Jem paused, looking at the paper satchel that was sitting on his desk. Slowly, he pushed it into the waste basket. "Give me that. Don't tell Carol."

For a few moments, the two of them sat in silence, eating their sandwiches while Jem looked over some documents. "I got some whiskey, too," Jean Louise offered, slowly pulling the bottle out of her bag. She opened the bottle and took a swig. "Want some?" She held the bottle out.

"I'm working," he said. "I can't do my job right if I'm drinkin'."

"Jack was a functioning alcoholic for years and he was still a pretty fine doctor," Jean Louise responded, shrugging.

Jem stared at her. At first, she thought he'd yell at her, say something about how Jack didn't have a drinking problem and she should keep her mouth shut. But, he surprised her.

"Pour a little in my mug," he thrust the mug in her direction. She grimaced as she saw there was still coffee in it. "Just mix it in."

Jean Louise obliged.

"Why'da come here?" Jem asked, swigging from the mug. "Are you alright?"

"Why does somethin' have to be wrong for me to have lunch with my brother?"

"Your nails," he said, pointing at her hands. "They're bloody stumps."

"I always bite them,"

"Not this bad."

Jean Louise sighed. "I'm going to stay here for a bit longer."

Jem furrowed his brow, looking confused. "Why? You hate it here."

Jean Louise huffed, crossing her arms as she thought back to her earlier conversation with Zandra. "I may not like Maycomb but I like my family."

"Shit," he said. "I didn't mean no harm."

Jean Louise sighed. "I know," she said. "I just think I should."

Jem paused. "Because of Atticus?"

She felt cold. "Why do you say that?"

"So you've noticed?"

"Noticed what?"

"I don't know if I was in denial or what," he said. "But he's gotten strange since Lou died."

Jean Louise didn't answer.

"Josie pointed it out, actually," Jem continued. He looked worried now, which made Jean Louise want to cry. She took a long sip of the whiskey, trying to make an excuse for why her eyes were burning so badly. "She said he was talking to mama."

"Mama?" Jean Louise asked, playing dumb. She knew what Jem was getting at.

"Our mama." Jem said. His face had gone pale. "At first I didn't believe her and she got so mad at me. Went on about how grown-ups don't believe kids and all this, it actually reminded me of the time Uncle Jack smacked you that one Christmas. Anyway, each day she comes back talkin' 'bout it. So I went over the other day, when you were at Jacks, and Atticus was actin' real strange. He just kept staring at the one chair in the living room, and no one was in it. He kept sayin' things, too, and Zandra and I were in there talkin' with him but what he was sayin' wasn't makin' sense, it didn't match up with our conversation."

Jean Louise closed her eyes and sighed. "Jem," she said, pouring more whiskey into his cup. "I think Josie's right," she paused, trying to think of what to say. "I saw him sitting in town a while ago and I sat with him and he thought I was mama."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know what to do," she said quickly. "I didn't know what was happenin'."

"I'm not mad," he said quickly, chugging the whiskey. "I just, I don't know." He said. The two siblings looked at each other for a few minutes. Both were confused and at a loss for words.

Jem sighed. "Listen," he said. "You get goin', and I'll try to get out early tonight. We'll sit down and try to make sense of all of this, alright?"

"Alright." She said, though she wasn't convinced that they would be successful.

-o-o-o-

On her way back in the direction of the neighborhood, Jean Louise chugged the rest of the whiskey. Hiding the empty bottle in a bush, she began to feel warm, almost numb. As she walked, her mind was foggy with the mixture of the alcohol and her conversation with Jem. Maybe she should just leave, she thought. Go back to New York and pretend like none of this was happening. Go back to her life and her job and her friends, and forget about what was happening.

Even thinking about that filled her with guilt.

For the second time that day, she knocked on the door to Jem's house. It took a few moments for Carol to open the door, flour caked on her face and in her hair. She was probably trying to recreate one of Maudie's desserts for Jem, though it would probably not taste as good. As she looked at her sister-in-law, Jean Louise realized that she was nearly drunk. In a matter of seconds, Jean Louise tried her best to sober up. "I wanted to see you and Josie," she said quickly.

Carol gave Jean Louise a small smile. "Josie went to see Atticus," she said. "I'm sure they won't mind you bein' with them."

Jean Louise turned to leave, but at the last second change her mind. "D'you need help with whatever you're doin'?" She asked, and immediately noticed that Carol looked surprised.

Within minutes Jean Louise was settled in Jem's kitchen, watching as Carol struggled with a pie crust she was making. Jean Louise couldn't deny, the pie actually seemed like a good concept. It was some plum-apple-raspberry something or other. Carol wanted to work on her baking skills, she explained, and decided to try to make her own recipes.

It wasn't until Jem came home a few hours later that Jean Louise realized how long she had been there. For the first time in their relationship as sisters-in-law, Jean Louise and Carol had a long conversation. They talked about Josie and school, what Carol has been up to, what Jean Louise did in New York. They reminisced on memories of Louise with Josie, and Jean Louise shared stories of what Louise had been like with her and Jem as children. Jean Louise was there for so long that the pie not only baked and cooled, but the two women sat at the kitchen table, eating directly out of the pie pan with forks, the buzz from the whiskey slowly wearing off.

"Where's Josie?" Jem asked, entering into the kitchen. Jean Louise and Carol both looked as though they had been caught off guard, caught doing something they shouldn't have been doing.

"She's been with Atticus all day," Carol said.

Jem glanced at Scout. "Maybe we should all go over there," he said, and the two women agreed.

-o-o-o-

The sun was beginning to set as the three of them approached Atticus' house. Before they could even get to the door, Alexandra flung it open. "Oh, thank goodness," she said, looking at them. "Where are Atticus and Josie? Didn't they go to your house, Jem?"

Jem glanced at Carol, whose face turned pink. "They didn't come home, did they?"

"No," Carol said slowly, as if she was wracking her brain, trying to remember if they did.

"I was there all afternoon, Auntie," Jean Louise said. "They weren't there."

Zandra's expression faltered and she went ashen. "I've been lookin' for them for a half-hour, and they aren't here."