Steadfast
Mary started the car and focused mainly on driving, striving to take John at his word that he was indeed alright. She figured they were all a little shaken, but that was understandable. âI know you wouldnât go looking for a fight, John. But one found you regardless.â
John seemed unsettled and Mary didnât know what to say. To say that she understood why he did it, why he likely couldnât have handled that situation any differently, felt like oversimplifying. At the same time, she couldnât let John to continue to fret about her being angry when, strangely enough, she wasnât, not really. Worried and stressed and a little piqued that sheâd had to spend some savings on bail money, but not necessarily angry.
She nodded at Johnâs words, relieved to have a way to broach the situation. âHe did.â In spite of everything, Maryâs expression relaxed slightly, turned thoughtful. âHe said you were defending his honor, actually.â
âI know-â Mary started but cut herself off, hesitating briefly but deciding to continue, eyes locked on the road. âI know you faced a lot the last several years, and you kept it all inside. Even when I tried to help, youâd give an inch, sometimes, but never more than that. Itâs just not your way and I understand that. But this, fighting for your best friend?â Mary turned her head briefly to gaze understandingly at John, âIâm not saying it was the best thing to have happen, but I donât blame you for it. Itâs been a long time coming, John.â
John sat back in his seat, face slightly raised as he continued to look out at the passing buildings and pedestrians. He couldn't help but smile a little to himself; 'defending his honour', definitely sounded like something Sherlock would determine behind his back. "Guess so, yeah."
In truth, he had been expecting more of a severe reprimand from her. John knew that Mary had had her heart set on a new car seat and activity mat for Ollie; he bent his head under a crushing guilt when he thought about that, taking bail money from a savings account that was supposed to be for their son. If Mary had scolded him, he wouldn't have blamed her, or even argued his point - at the time, he hadn't even been sure of what he point was. Yet now, she explained his whole design and motivation back to him, in a way that he could readily understand.
With no confirmation needed, John reached across and rested the flat of his palm on her leg, with a tender retrospection in his manner. His hand rested there for a moment, regarding her appreciatively, before falling back to John's own lap. "Quite certain it's out of my system now, Mary. No more fighting."
And yet, he couldn't promise.










