by Tawna Fenske
He nodded. “Something I hadn’t always done. I can admit that.”
“Sometimes, kindness is the worst thing,” she said. “Especially if it unravels your entire justification for something you’ve done. Something you might not be very proud of in the first place.”
He looked at her. “Very true.” He glanced back at the road, quiet again. “How about we talk about something else? Something more uplifting.”
Jenna untucked her feet, lowering them to the floor. She let her left hand drift so it was touching his now, fingers twining with fingers.
“More uplifting than your dying grandmother and your painful divorce?”
He smiled, his eyes flicking to hers. “Sure. Like the Holocaust.”
“How about dead puppies?”
“The black plague?”
“Euthanasia?”
He lifted his hand, folding his palm over hers. He slid them both to her knee, the heel of his hand rubbing her knuckles like the space behind a cat’s ears.
“That’s what I love about you, Jenna. You always know how to make me smile.”
She smiled in response, almost a required reaction to the word smile. Or maybe the word love. It was getting difficult to tell.
Early the next morning, Adam drove from their Seattle hotel to his sister’s house in Ballard. Shelly had tried to convince them to stay over the night before, but he’d insisted he didn’t want to bother her by arriving late.
It wasn’t the whole truth.
In reality, he wanted more time alone with Jenna. He’d made sure to book a hotel room with two beds, not wanting to presume anything.
But Jenna had taken one look at the setup, tossed her suitcase on the bed closest to the door, and turned to smile at him. “Looks like we’ve got a place to store our bags.” She’d grinned wider, then pulled her sweater off over her head and reached for the button on her jeans. He stood there blinking at her in the rosy light of the hotel room, utterly transfixed by the creaminess of her skin, the static that made her hair float like a halo around her head.
He was absolutely certain he’d never seen anything so beautiful.
Adam shook his head and hit the blinker, bringing himself back to the present. Probably not a good idea to show up with a hard-on for his first visit with his sister in three months.
He turned onto the narrow avenue where Shelly had lived for the last five years, counting off houses and hoping he’d remember which place was hers. He’d been there plenty of times, but he usually came straight from the airport from some nearby city where he’d been contracted to do mediation.
He glanced over at Jenna, who was smoothing her hair with her hands. Reaching over, he rested a hand on her knee. “You’ll do great.”
She gave him a weak smile and nodded. “I hope so.”
“Just be yourself.”
“Yeah, but which self? The professional self who stoically holds it together in business meetings about illicit penis pictures, or the self who gets giddy on wine at girls’ night?”
Adam grinned and pulled into his sister’s driveway. “You weren’t that stoic.”
“My stoic self is insulted you think so. My girls’ night self admits you’re probably right.”
He turned off the ignition and leaned over to plant a quick kiss on her mouth. The temptation to make it a longer kiss surged like a wave, but he resisted. “Just be whichever self feels right in the moment. Maybe not the one who did that swirly thing with her tongue last night, though.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, and reached for the door handle.
Shelly was waiting on the doorstep before they even got all the way up the walk. Her brown curls frizzed in the Seattle drizzle, and she was barefoot and slender in jeans and a bright blue tank top. Spotting Adam, she hurled herself at him, engulfing him in a hug that smelled like sunshine and the floral perfume their mother used to wear.
“Hey, doofus! Long time, no see.” She squeezed him hard, then released him. “Now get out of my way. I need to meet the new woman in your life.”
He turned to see Jenna extending a polite hand, but Shelly pulled her into a hug.
“No need for the handshake bullshit,” she said, squeezing Jenna so tightly Adam heard her spine crack. “We’re a hugging family.”
Adam stepped aside to give them space, while Jenna laughed and hugged back with equal fierceness. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“I’ve heard almost nothing about you,” Shelly replied, giving Jenna another squeeze before drawing back to glare at Adam. “My brother’s communication skills leave something to be desired. We message each other a dozen times a day over Words with Friends, but I have no idea what you do for work or for fun or even what your last name is.”
He watched Jenna’s shoulders relax, and she met Shelly’s grin with one of her own. “Full name Jenna McArthur, and I’m the Chief Relations Officer for Belmont Health System. For fun, I read spy novels, practice target shooting, and drink copious amounts of good wine. Here.”
She reached into her handbag and pulled out a bottle of something with a lot of Italian words on the label. She handed it to his sister with a reverence other women might reserve for religious artifacts. “My favorite Chianti from Italy. I hope you like it.”
“Oh, I like it,” Shelly said, reaching out to take the wine. She looked over at Adam and gave him a smile that made something swell warmly in his chest. “I like it very, very much.”
She turned and walked into the house, waving them to follow. “Bathroom’s down that hall if you need it. Want to drive together to Nana and Gramps’s place?”
“That sounds good,” Adam said, resting his hand in the middle of Jenna’s back as he guided her into the living room. “Would you mind if we headed over right away? I’d like to get there as soon as visiting hours start.”
“I’ll just grab my keys,” Shelly called. “Jenna can ride up front with me.”
“What, you don’t want some brother-sister bonding time?”
“Nope. We’re already bonded, jerk. I spent my entire childhood with you pulling my pigtails and stealing my candy and fighting with me about who took longer showers.” Shelly grinned as she led them out to her bright orange MINI Cooper. “I already know your annoying ass. Now I need to get to know Jenna better.”
“I promise I will neither pull your hair nor hog the shower,” Jenna replied, settling into the passenger seat of Shelly’s car. “No promises about the candy though.”
The two women chatted all the way to the west side of Seattle, and by the time they reached the assisted living facility, it was clear they’d become fast friends. Adam watched from the backseat, feeling equal parts relief and nostalgia. It had never been like this with Mia and Shelly, not even before the affair. There had always been something stiff in their interactions. Something guarded and even a little competitive, though he could never figure out which of them set that tone. No matter how many courses he took in counseling and human behavior, there was no accounting for chemistry.
He’d wondered sometimes how Mia and Jenna had become so close after only two years of friendship. Now, seeing how quickly his sister connected with her, he didn’t wonder anymore. Jenna was easy to love quickly and fiercely.
Love.
He’d said the word to her yesterday in the car, and watched her eyes widen.
That’s what I love about you, he’d told her, and he meant it. But he meant more than that, and he wondered if she knew.
“Here we are,” Shelly said, pulling into a parking spot. “How much did Adam tell you about what to expect?”
“I know your grandmother is in the last stages of Alzheimer’s, and that your grandfather barely leaves her side,” Jenna said. “Not even when the nurses come to tend to her.”
Shelly nodded and reached for the door handle. “There’s a good cha
nce Nana won’t wake up at all. She’s been sleeping a lot lately, and honestly, that’s better. Before this, she went through a real combative stage.”
“Does she recognize you?”
Shelly shook her head, and Adam watched her features pinch with sadness. “Not usually. Not anymore. When she’s lucid these days, she doesn’t even seem to know who Gramps is, though she does perk up a little when he sits by her bed and plays Beatles songs on his guitar.”
Adam swallowed hard and pushed the passenger seat forward, clambering over it to emerge from his sister’s clown car into the drizzly morning air. They filed through the front door together, stopping to sign in at the front desk. Shelly signed first, then Jenna. Adam looked at her signature, feeling an odd swell of pride when he saw she’d written “lady friend” in the relationship field.
Shelly led the way down a corridor bathed in fluorescent light and the cloying pine scent of cleaner. She stopped in a doorway at the end of the hall and knocked loudly before trooping in.
“Hi, Gramps! Look who’s here to see you!”
Noticing Jenna’s hesitation, Adam stepped past her and into the cramped little room. He watched Gramps’s eyes go wide with surprise, then delight. As the old man struggled to get to his feet, Adam hurried to his side.
“Don’t get up, I can hug you right where you are.”
He wrapped his arms around Gramps, surprised at how bony he felt. He wore a faded Chicago Cubs sweatshirt Adam remembered buying him for Christmas ten years ago. His pants were baggy enough to fall off his hips if he stood up, so it was probably best to keep the old man sitting. Drawing back, Adam glanced at the hospital bed where Nana lay. She seemed peaceful enough, though her face was creased in a frown.
“Good to see you, son,” Gramps said, and Adam turned back to see Shelly smothering him in a hug. “Shells said you were bringing someone with you?”
“I did,” Adam said, waving Jenna into the room. She took a few timid steps forward to stand beside him, and Adam felt his heart twist with affection for every damn person in this tiny room.
“Gramps, meet Jenna,” he said. “Jenna, meet Gramps and Nana, also known as Floyd and Edie.”
Jenna smiled and took a step toward Gramps. She seemed to hesitate, and he saw her rub her palm against her thigh, readying herself to offer a handshake. Instead, she stooped down and wrapped her arms around the old man’s bony shoulders.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“Call me Gramps, everyone does. Even the nurses and doctors.”
“Gramps,” she said, trying out the word as she drew back from the hug and stood upright again. “I see you’re a Cubs fan? My grandfather took me to see them play at Wrigley years ago.”
“Wrinkly ears?” He scrubbed his hands down his face, frowning. “Sure, I’ve got wrinkly ears, wrinkly cheeks, wrinkly jowls. That’s what happens when you get old.”
Jenna blinked, her mouth dropping open in horror. “No—I—Wrigley Field. Um, baseball? Adam told me in the car you’re a fan of the game.”
The old man grinned. “Oh yeah? What else did he tell you about me?”
“He said you worked as a lumberjack for forty years and that you’re very good with your hands.” She smiled, warming up a bit. “He also said you love dogs—that you had some really great ones when Adam and Shelly were growing up.” She pointed to a framed photo on the end table beside him. “That must be Shaggy on the grass next to you in that photo?”
Gramps raised a bushy eyebrow. “Saggy ass? Well, missy, you’re getting a little personal now. An old man can’t help it if things start to droop a little bit here and there as he gets older. ’Course Edie never had any complaints in that department.”
Adam stifled a laugh and turned away, leaving them to get acquainted. He edged over to his grandmother’s bedside. She looked small and pale, as though she might blow away if he sneezed on her. Not that sneezing on old people was ever a good idea. He’d done enough jobs in healthcare to know that.
His brain was drifting to absurdity, so he reached out and squeezed Nana’s hand. It felt bony and frail, and there was no sign of recognition from her at all.
“Hey, Nana—it’s me, Adam.”
No response. He stroked his finger over the back of her hand, tracing the knuckles and thin bones. Did she even know he was here? The nurses had warned him she’d been unresponsive all week, but still. He’d hoped for some sign.
Behind him, Jenna was still trying to connect with Gramps. “I’ve always wanted a dog myself, but we had cats growing up. A big Maine Coon named Sugarbear and a sweet little black-and-white tuxedo kitty we called Spot.”
“Bald spot?” Gramps ran a hand over his shiny scalp. “Yeah, well, that runs in the family, too. You wait and see, Adam here will be dropping clumps of hair left and right when he gets to be my age.”
“No, I—”
“Jenna is Adam’s girlfriend, Gramps,” Shelly said. “Don’t you think he did better this time around?”
At that, Adam turned to face them, not sure if he was more interested in Gramps’s reaction or Jenna’s. He saw his grandfather grin widely, and Jenna followed suit, looking a little nervous.
“Sure am happy to have you here,” Gramps said, leaving it open whether he meant Jenna or Adam or the whole family. He looked past Jenna to Adam and nodded. “You have her eyes, you know. Edie’s. She sure was proud of what you made of yourself, boy.”
“Thank you,” Adam said, swallowing back the lump in his throat. “That means a lot.”
Gramps swiveled his gaze back to Jenna’s and grinned. “You sticking around for lunch, girlie? Corned beef and mashed potatoes. ’Course it’s not as good as what Edie used to make. Boy, she was one helluva good cook in her day.”
Jenna gave Adam a nervous smile, then turned back to Gramps. “Yes, that’s what Adam said. He told me about the little diner she used to own. How people would come from miles and miles just to have a slice of pie at Edie’s.”
“ED?” Gramps frowned. “Well, now you’re getting real personal, missy. A man’s erectile dysfunction is his own business, and they got those little blue pills now that can—”
“Okay, Gramps, cut it out.” Shelly was snort-laughing in the corner, wiping tears from her eyes.
Jenna gave her a perplexed look before turning to Adam. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “You told me he was hard of hearing, but I had no idea—”
“What’d you say about my hard-on?”
Adam choked on a laugh of his own, his hand gently squeezing Nana’s. “Gramps hears just fine, Jenna.”
“What?”
“He got hearing aids a few years ago, so now he hears better than I do. He’s yanking your chain.”
Jenna blinked, then turned back to Gramps. “Is that true?”
“I’m not allowed to yank anything around here,” Gramps said, grinning wider now. “Nurse came by just last week and smacked it out of my hand when I was sittin’ there in the common area enjoying a little adult television. If they don’t want us to watch the Playboy channel, they shouldn’t have it out there.”
“They didn’t have the Playboy channel, Gramps,” Shelly said, still dabbing at her eyes. “Not until you figured out how to hook it up illegally.” She nudged Jenna with her elbow. “In addition to his hearing being perfect, his mind is still sharp as a tack.”
“He teased us mercilessly when we were kids,” Adam said, watching as Jenna’s shoulders started to relax. “If it’s any comfort to you, he only screws around this way with people he likes.”
Jenna shook her head and turned back to Gramps, a smile spreading slowly across her face. A look of fondness had replaced the horrified expression she’d worn moments ago, and Adam gave her hand a squeeze.
“Jeez, you had me worried,” Jenna said. “I think I see now where your grandson gets his sense of humor.”
Gramps grunted. “Well if he’s good in the sack, he gets that from me, too. If he’s lousy, blame his father.”
Jenna laughed and leaned back in her chair, turning to beam at Adam. “I think I like this family.”
“Yeah?” he said. “I think I can speak for all of us when I say it likes you, too.”
Nana’s fingers twitched against his palm, so faintly Adam knew he might have imagined it. He looked down and saw her expression hadn’t changed. Her face was still serene and creased with age, and her hand still felt limp in his.
But her fingers twitched again, this time curling faintly against his, and he knew he hadn’t imagined it. Across the room, Jenna and Gramps and Shelly sat laughing as the tiniest ghost of a smile played across Nana’s lips. Then her hand went limp again, the rhythm of her breathing making the blankets rise and fall in a soothing tempo.
It was enough.
Later that evening, Jenna leaned back against Shelly’s sofa, comforted by the feel of Adam’s arm around her shoulders. It felt natural there, like it had always belonged.
“Here you go,” Shelly said, rounding the corner of the kitchen and handing her a stemless wineglass. “It’s a cab from a winery just a few miles from here. Very juicy, though it probably needs to open up a bit more.”
“Mmm, it’s delicious,” Jenna said, taking a sip. “Thanks again for dinner. It was amazing.”
“Don’t mention it. It was the least I could do after subjecting you to that bland crap at Nana and Gramps’s place.”
“I didn’t mind at all,” Jenna said, taking another sip. “Your grandfather is quite the character. Made me miss my own grandpa.”
Shelly smiled. “We’re lucky we’ve had both our grandparents this long. Most of my friends lost theirs in middle school and high school.”
Adam slid his arm around Jenna’s shoulder and craned his neck to look at his sister. “So what did the doctor say on the phone?”
“Nothing new. He said it could be a few weeks, could be a few hours. Usually at the point where the patient stops eating and drinking, it doesn’t take long.”