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The Son of Mrs. Jordan

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Mrs. Jordan didn’t know what made her do it. Actually, no that was a lie, she knew exactly what she had to do the moment Grace’s name passed through her poor son’s lips. As she wrote the letter, she tried to convince herself over and over again that she shouldn’t send it. Poor Grace sounded like she was at peace now. She didn’t even know what bringing the poor girl to the states would do. She didn’t even know if she would come. Mrs. Jordan wasn’t entirely sure of what transpired between the two, other than the fact that Grace Marks was a patient of his that was released from prison. An earlier version of Mrs. Jordan would faint at the prospect of inviting an accused murderess to her house. Though she was released after all.
She shook off such thoughts and had a servant put the letter in the post. Her son hadn’t uttered another word since “Grace” slipped from his lips. Mrs. Jordan thought she would never hear his voice again. Mrs. Jordan needed to hear her son speak again. She had the suspicion that she needed Grace in order for that to happen.
Grace arrived on a lovely spring day without any warning. The housekeeper let her in and took her to the parlor. She was aging but Mrs. Jordan could tell she had always been a beautiful creature. There was a sorrowful look in her eyes but she gave Mrs. Jordan a pleasant smile when she saw her. Mrs. Jordan immediately knew what drew her son to the woman. He was never the same since he got back from Canada.
“I’m Grace.”
“Samantha.” Mrs. Jordan replied.
“Where is Dr. Jordan?”
“He’s--well you read the letter, I suppose.”
Mrs. Jordan led Grace to Simon. He laid there, still catatonic and shaking but with a simple touch from Grace, he laid still.
“Hello, Dr. Jordan. It’s been a long time.”
Mrs. Jordan watched her son’s lips quiver, “Grace.”