Sol 6 (3)
Darcy was numb.
Or at least, she thought she was numb. It was either that, or accept that everything hurt, from her eyes to her head to the whole that had been ripped into her chest. Turns out heartbreak wasn’t just a metaphor.
“Miss Lewis?” That was JARVIS. Jane looked at the ceiling with a scowl.
“Not now, J,” she said.
“No,” Darcy said. Or tried to say. It came out as more of a croak. “No,” she tried again, this time coming out with an intelligible word. “What’s up, J?”
“There is a Mrs. Watney on the phone for you.” Darcy let out a noise at the name, probably one best classified as a whimper. But then she nodded, assembling what little she had left of any emotional strength.
“I guess I’d better talk to her,” she said, and pushed up off the floor, half-stumbling as her vision went all blurry. Not surprising, as you’re probably dehydrated, and it’s probably long past lunch.
Not that that matters much. Not now.
“Darce - is that-“
“She’s his mom,” Darcy said firmly. “If she wants to talk to me, I’m gonna listen.” Darcy walked over to her office chair and sat, pulling up her StarkTab. “Put it on my screen, please, J.”
Twitter blurred for a second, then Caroline Watney appeared. She looked just as rough as Darcy felt, all red eyes and dull expression.
“Hello, dear,” she said, and Darcy had to work to not break down again. “I suppose you’ve heard.”
“Venkat called me,” Darcy said.
“We got a visit from Mr. Saunders,” Caroline said. “How’re you-“ She stopped, put a hand over her mouth, closed her eyes, then started again. “I won’t ask how you’re doing,” she said instead. “Just - do you need us? Want us to come to New York? You’re welcome to come to Chicago - stay with us, if you want.”
“Oh, Mrs. W,” Darcy protested.
“Caroline,” the woman said, a half smile rising, then falling from her features. “Remember?”
“Caroline,” Darcy repeated obediently. “I -“ She looked out the window, at the buildings filled with people, people just going about their day, unaware. “I’ll let you know,” she said. “I’m sorry.” She felt a few tears spill down her cheeks, and wiped them away swiftly.
“Oh, honey.” Caroline’s eyes were similarly bright. “So’m I. Just - if you want to talk, if you need anything, you call us, y’hear?” Darcy nodded. “Even if….” Here they both took a minute. “You’re still our almost-daughter in law, ok?” Darcy nodded more firmly, not able to stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks.
“Thanks Caroline,” she said. “I - I’ll call you, when - I’ll call.”
“Take care.” And Caroline shut off the connection. Darcy set the tablet down before bending over it, shoulders shaking as she cried. Again.
Part of her was starting to get resentful at the sheer quantity of tears she was shedding today. Isn’t there supposed to be some finite amount you can cry in a day? Even as she thought it, she felt immediately guilty.
He’s dead. The knowledge spun round and round in her head, the thing she wanted to say again and again, as if saying it again would make it less true. I can’t believe he’s dead.
Mark.