Chapter Text
He still had his sense of humor.
In spite of all Grace’s assurances, Jane had to wonder if he might have lost that part of himself after all he’d gone through. But that worry flitted away as soon as he glanced at her and said, “So you weren’t a hallucination after all. Unless…maybe I’m still hallucinating.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m real,” she said, leaning into him just enough for a little nudge.
Rochester returned the nudge. “But that’s exactly what a hallucination would say, isn’t it?”
She laughed. “Fair enough. I kind of know the feeling. When the lawyer called me a few months ago to tell me I’d inherited a fortune from an uncle I’d never met, I couldn’t believe it was real. I spent the next few hours expecting to wake up from a bizarre dream.”
“Actually, that was very helpful. Hallucinations are never that specific. This might be real after all.” He looked at her, eyes twinkling, and she felt a surge of happiness, of hope, of possibilities. “Jane, would you like some tea? I’ve gotten pretty good at making it.”
“Tea would be lovely.” She led the way inside from the balcony, picking up her camera as they passed by it. It was strange, but nice, how she no longer felt anxious and untethered without its support.
He winced a little as he hobbled to the kitchen, and she had to ask, “Are you all right? If you need to rest, I can make the tea.”
“No, I’m fine. It’s just these stupid things.” He waggled one of the crutches. “They keep grinding into the palms of my hands. I can’t wait to be done with them.”
She leaned against the kitchen counter. “How much longer?”
“Well,” he lifted the leg with the brace, “this should come off in another week or two, but I’ll probably still need the crutches until I’m used to walking again.” He put the kettle on, made his way to the cabinet and took out two mugs before turning back to Jane with a serious face. “Listen…I just…I really don’t want you to feel like I need to be waited on. Like I’m helpless, or need a nursemaid or something. I’m okay, Jane. You have…more important things to do.”
“There’s nothing shameful in needing help every now and then,” she said quietly. “As long as you’re trying, in turn, to be helpful wherever you can.”
“Yeah.” Rochester cleared his throat. She could see the gloom that had overtaken him briefly on the balcony, threatening to rise up again. “Honestly, Jane, it’s kind of hard to see what good I can do right now. With…with Thornfield gone and everything falling apart, you know…other than being there for Adele, I’m not sure I’m useful for much of anything.”
Jane straightened and looked him square in the eye. “Being there for your daughter is the most important thing anyone could do. So there, I’ve already determined that you’re going to be very useful.” She took a breath and said more softly, “I know that feeling, though. Wondering if you don’t have a single useful skill to contribute to society. You have to fight your way through it. You’ll find a way out.”
His smile was wistful. With a shrug he returned to the tea preparation, silent and thoughtful. Jane watched him, noting with appreciation the practiced motions of his hands. He hadn’t quite reached her level of tea-making proficiency – it would take years to achieve that – but it was still admirable.
“It’s not polite to stare, Jane,” he said suddenly, startling her into laughter. He was offering her a mug. She took it quickly before he lost his one-handed balance on the crutches. “I guess it’s pretty mesmerizing, in a gruesome kind of way,” he went on, indicating the bandage and the not-quite-healed scars on his face.
“Oh, yes,” Jane replied as he took up his own mug and took a sip. “You were always gruesomely mesmerizing.”
Rochester spat tea all over the counter. Jane laughed until tears came to her eyes.
They finished their tea in companionable silence to avoid any further spills. When she finally set down her empty mug, Jane glanced at the clock and realized how much time had passed. “Oh, I have to go. Sorry…I have a meeting across town. But I was hoping I could stop by later on, when Adele gets back from school.”
“You would?” She saw the flicker of surprised relief across his eyes, and her heart suddenly ached for all the abandonments he had suffered, all the people who made him believe no one ever stayed forever. True, sometimes it was his fault, and it didn’t excuse the mistakes he had made, but she wanted him to trust again. And she wanted to trust him too. One step at a time.