“You really want to hear all this?”
“Only if you want to tell me.”
Joanna sighed and gave Charley the details of their rather mundane week: the marketing, a local museum, their walks, and long talks. No intimation of sleeping together.
“And the argument?”
Joanna had finished the guacamole by that point and found the plastic wrap to cover the bowl. But she put the bowl down and looked at Charley, her expression inscrutable.
“Okay, none of my business.”
Joanna put the bowl in the refrigerator and began washing the dishes. It was an awkward moment.
“You’re my guest, you shouldn’t do those.”
“I came over to help.”
Charley nodded and got several heads of lettuce and an array of vegetables out of the salad bin in the refrigerator, mentally kicking herself for crossing a line she should’ve known better than to cross. A moment later, Joanna stood beside her drying a knife that she’d washed.
“I’m a very good sous chef, too. What do you need chopped?”
They worked in silence for a few minutes.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked about the argument.”
“Look, we’re still getting to know each other. How about we allow for mistakes?”
“Hmm. Disclaimer: they freak me out. Because if I make them, the next thing that happens is I get fired.”
“I promise I won’t fire you.” Joanna reached into the refrigerator for the guacamole and unwrapped it.
“Not done yet?” Charley asked.
“Spices usually need adjusting. Might need more heat.”
Charley handed her the bottle of cayenne, trying to stifle a smile. “Heat.”
Joanna tasted the mix and tossed a generous pinch of cayenne into the guacamole, glancing at Charley.
“You like heat, don’t you?” Charley asked.
Joanna stirred the contents thoroughly. “If we’re talking about food, I like a lot of things.” She tasted the guacamole again. “I think it’s done now. Do you want to try it?” The honey in her voice was markedly sweeter. She opened a bag of chips, dragged one through the dip and brought it to Charley’s mouth.
Charley felt warmth and color come to her face, equal parts guacamole and Joanna’s gaze.
“Oh, too hot for you?”
Charley heard the trace of innocence marking the honey, saw the raised eyebrow. “No…no, that’s…great.”
Joanna put the back of her hand to Charley’s neck. “Hmm. Could be hotter.” She leaned in and kissed Charley
“You are so unfair,” Charley whispered.
“I believe you were unfair first outside the Palm Too. You know, the orange caution sign?”
“That’s before I knew you thought you couldn’t do this because you’re toxic.”
“No, I told you I was toxic before we went out for coffee. You didn’t know about Georgia.”
“I still don’t.”
Joanna disengaged herself and sighed softly. “I am being unfair, you’re right. Why don’t we watch the game for a bit?”
Joanna sat down in front of the TV. Charley tried to control her breathing, which had become ragged under the soft pressure of Joanna’s lips. Why didn’t I run with the ball? She handed it right to me. Please, be unfair again…
“So, how fond of that shirt are you?” Joanna asked when Charley sat down.
“Very. Why?”
“I thought we could put a little wager on tonight’s game.”
Charley snorted. “You don’t have anything that measures up to this.”
“How about a Jeter baseball he signed the night he hit three thousand?”
“You do not.” Charley wasn’t sure she believed Joanna.
“I knew it was going to happen at that game, I had a ticket that night, so I bought a ball and he signed and dated it when I hung over the dugout before the game, batted my eyelashes, and begged. It’s already worth a young fortune.”
“Get. Out. You wouldn’t stake that.”
Joanna reached into her pocket and handed Charley a hundred-dollar bill. “I’ll stake it with that. On the Colts, because I know you don’t like them, but they’re winning tonight. Which means I’ll win that jersey. I promise to give it the respect it deserves.”
Charley couldn’t walk away from that kind of arrogance, so she took the money and held out her hand to seal the deal. A moment later, the doorman called. “Brooke and Annie are here.”
When the bell buzzed, Joanna walked to the door. “Brooke’s your college friend.”
“You remembered.”
“Yes.” Joanna smiled at Charley and opened the door.
* * *
It was a raucous evening, the game too close to call until the Colts field goal in the final seconds, but what had been closer was the scrutiny of her friends when it came to Joanna. Brooke had stood at the door until Annie pushed her inside and Charley gave her a kiss on the cheek to wipe the look of surprise off her face. During the first quarter, several women asked Joanna how long she and Charley had been seeing each other, and Joanna patiently explained that they were friends. One even asked Charley, and as she started to answer, Joanna called the infraction on a play before the field judge even reached for his yellow penalty flag.
Charley’s friend said, “Well, you should be seeing her. She’s a keeper. Look at that, beat the ref to the call. We’d like her to come next week.”
When she wasn’t in hostess mode bussing dishes or refilling glasses, Charley found a spot as close to Joanna as she could to watch the game, content to watch her from time to time as well. During commercial breaks, Joanna joined her in the kitchen and Charley noticed how well they worked together in the small open room, but there was no mistaking the tension between them every time they happened to brush against one another. Just before the end of the game, they were both in the kitchen, Charley leaning on the butcher block table, when a cheer went up for a Colts interception. Joanna put her hand on the back of Charley’s neck and slowly ran it down her back, raising goose bumps everywhere on Charley’s body. Then Joanna bent over and whispered in her ear, “Someone’s going to owe me the shirt on her back.” Charley stood and growled at her, and Joanna laughed.
Brooke had spent a fair amount of time talking to Joanna when Charley was busy with other guests. Charley knew she was in interview mode, trying to glean as much information as she could before giving her blessing, something that she’d never granted Tricia.
Joanna stayed to help clean up after the guests left. “Listen, I meant to tell you. I’m starting with a new client on Friday night.”
“But it hasn’t been two weeks.”
“I know. I called and told them I didn’t need the entire two. I do better when I’m working. So, I’ll be on a different schedule this time because I’m splitting nights and days.”
“Oh?”
“I’ll be on Friday and Saturday nights, and Tuesdays and Wednesdays.”
“That’s an odd schedule.”
“I wanted more evenings free.”
Charley wondered if that was for her benefit, but after the reaction she’d raised with the question about Georgia, she was going to tread carefully now. She really did hate making mistakes. And she found herself right back at Emotional Square One not wanting to get hurt in a relationship she hadn’t been looking for, even if this wasn’t a relationship yet. “Did they tell you anything about this patient?”
She hesitated and then put several wine glasses away. “Not much. But she’s very ill. So I won’t have time to bond with her. I didn’t want a patient that that could happen with. This will be…” Joanna seemed to search for the right words. “Helping someone get ready to leave. I haven’t done that in a long time.”
“That must be hard.”
“It’s really only hard when you’re invested in your patient. It’s difficult helping the family through it, but I’ve learned over the years how to divorce myself from the process. The pa
tients always know, and that makes our relationship very clean. It’s like we have business to attend to. The family, on the other hand…” Joanna shrugged.
“I don’t know if I should say I’m sorry or that’s good for you?”
“I’ll let you know in a couple of weeks.” She got her down vest out of the closet. “I had a lovely time tonight. I’m glad you invited me. Oh, and, I won’t be at the pool tomorrow night. I still need time…”
“Of course.” Charley was disconsolate.
“But with my new schedule, I’ll have almost every night of the week free.”
“My God, think of the damage we’ll do to this city’s bars.”
“I’ll call you this week.” Joanna kissed Charley, a brief, light kiss, and ran her fingers over the Brett Favre signature again, causing Charley to blush. “I won’t ask you to hand this over right now. You take a couple days, say good-bye to it, and bring it with you next Monday.” Joanna unlocked the door and reached for the handle, but Charley had her hand on it first, opened it and blocked her exit.
“Very funny.” She kissed her, took the shirt off, and handed it to her. “Not like we haven’t seen a thing or two in the locker room.” Charley pushed her out the door as Joanna laughed, slung the shirt over her shoulder, and walked down the hall.
Chapter Twenty-six
The week at work went off without a hitch on Jenny’s end, which meant Charley spent it standing by at her desk at home from one to nine every morning with nothing to do. For the first time in years, she spent the week writing as though that was her career instead. It felt otherworldly and at the same time exactly what she should be doing. Charley desperately wanted to email or text Emily to find out if she’d been successful, but Emily was an adamantly “no paper or digital trail” executive. She’d learned from a lawsuit at a previous firm, and now conducted all pertinent business face-to-face. Charley would have to wait until Monday morning.
Friday evening, Tricia picked her up in a company car and they rode downtown together. Tricia wanted Charley to meet the three nurses she’d hired, one of whom was starting tonight. And she figured she might as well make dinner for her.
Working through the preparations with Tricia and then sitting down to eat, Charley had the chance to visibly measure the further progression of fatigue since Sunday. Ted’s constant presence had absolved her of the need to be there most of the last couple of weeks, though she checked in daily by phone. It had only been twenty-one days since the radiation began, but the effects this week were shocking. Tricia was stiff and unsteady in every way. In the bedroom, she’d dropped her sweatpants several times as she tried to put them on. Charley had spotted peeling skin on her chest when she changed her shirt; in the kitchen, she’d had trouble pulling open the Sub-Zero refrigerator door, and the exertion seemed to leave her short of breath. Charley thought she remembered the doctors at that first meeting talking about lung scarring from treatments that would result in the inability to fully take in air, wondered if that was what this was about, and made a mental note to apprise the new nurse of all these problems. Tricia had also lost some of the patrician bearing that so defined her. And if she hadn’t still been going to her hairdresser for highlights, Charley was certain that Tricia’s shimmering brown hair would be faded, if not completely gray. She looked lost, and it cut Charley to the quick.
The dinner was a welcome break from all her own distractions. And Tricia stayed put, letting herself be taken care of for once.
“When is this gal coming?” Charley asked. “And do you know anything about her?”
“Eight o’clock. The agency says they match you to nurses whose backgrounds fit your needs. If it works, they keep you together.”
“Do you mind if I put on one of the college games while we wait?”
“Of course not.”
Charley found the BYU game and pulled the office NFL pool picks out of her pocket, sitting on the couch to review them. The intercom buzzed and she rose to answer it, but Tricia was there first. This nurse was ten minutes early, which was a good sign. Turning her attention back to the game, Charley barely registered the conversation at the door until she became aware that the two women were in the living room and a familiar honeyed tone caught her attention. Not quite believing what she heard, she turned. “Joanna?”
For a moment, she and Joanna stared at each other, Tricia looking from one to the other with surprise and amusement.
“This is the Joanna?” Tricia asked.
Dumbfounded, Charley could only answer, “Yes.”
Joanna walked down the three steps into the living room, hugged Charley, and said very quietly, “I should’ve said something to you the other night. I did wonder when I got the assignment, but I thought it had to be a million to one that—”
“You knew who the patient was?” Charley asked just as quietly. She immediately thought of Joanna’s description of her new patient being someone she was helping to leave.
“I had a name and an address, yes,” Joanna replied. Recovering, she turned to Tricia. “Yes, I’m the Joanna, so I can only assume she’s talked to you about me, and whatever she said, you can take with a grain of salt because she’s certainly said a lot about you to me and I’m going to dismiss all of it so that you and I can forge our own relationship. So, first things first, why don’t you show me around. That’s the BYU game, isn’t it? You like football?”
“That’s really her domain. I got into it because she dragged me.”
“Well, I understand you dragged her into opera, so maybe you’re even.”
Tricia laughed. “I like the way you dismiss everything. Okay, so yes, let me show you the place, and then we can watch the game.”
Charley sat back down in front of the TV, ignoring Tricia’s pointed glance as she and Joanna left of the room. None of the game filtered through the numbness. Instead, what slowly dawned on her was the absence of the lemon that Joanna usually trailed in her wake. And instinctively she knew that she must not wear the perfume when she worked in case it had an adverse effect on a patient. Helping someone leave. The finality of it made Charley want to curl into a ball.
When they got back to the living room, Tricia settled into the opposite end of the couch from Charley.
“I have all the charts from your doctors, but I want to take your vital signs so I have a baseline to work from,” Joanna said as she took a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff from her canvas bag.
“My living room has become a doctor’s office,” Tricia noted.
“Nice not to have to leave home to get that kind of service, isn’t it?” Joanna replied as she listened to Tricia’s heart and put the cuff on her left bicep.
“It’s probably the beginning of my world shrinking.”
“If you want to think of it that way. Or you could see it as a silver lining, being lucky enough, or perhaps financially savvy enough in your case, to have the wherewithal to bring the world to you.”
Tricia looked over at Charley. “I can see why you like her.”
Charley blushed and feigned interest in the TV.
“Open,” Joanna commanded, a tongue depressor in her hand. Tricia complied. “Sit forward and lift your shirt.”
Tricia’s eyebrows rose.
“I need to listen to your organs. Takes three seconds. C’mon.” Joanna motioned at her shirt.
Tricia complied and Charley watched her thumping in several places around Tricia’s back. “Now the front.” She pressed around Tricia’s abdomen and made notations on the iPad. “Okay, who’s winning the game, does anyone want anything from the kitchen because I need a glass of water, and what time do you go to bed?” she asked Tricia.
“I tend to go in around midnight and get up at five thirty.”
“Really?”
“She falls asleep out here around nine, Ted takes her in before the news, and I give her a wake-up call at five thirty.” Charley amended Tricia’s statement.
“That’s better. Anything from the kitchen?”
“I’ll come with you,” Charley said. Leaning on the stove a moment later, she asked Joanna the question that had occurred to her moments after she’d walked in. “What are we going to do?”
“What do you mean?”
“We can pretend that Georgia changes nothing between us, and we can avoid talking about her. But we can’t do that here.”
Joanna sighed. She took three glasses from the cupboard and filled them with ice. “Probably not. You might not have recognized it when you told me about Tricia the other night, but you’re emotionally tethered here in ways you aren’t even seeing.” She opened the refrigerator, found a filtered water canister on the top shelf, and took it apart to clean it. “Yours is just a different toxicity, Charley. Neither one of us can…we’re just going to have to be completely professional about this. I have a literal job here; you have a figurative one.”
Charley ran her finger over the marble countertop in a figure eight. “Can we still see each other on Mondays?”
“I’d like to think that we can, but I’m drawing a line in the sand for now. I don’t think we should be physically involved with each other while I work for Tricia, and not with your level of emotional investment. Neither one of us is truly free yet.” Joanna secured the filter system into the canister, made sure it was tight, and put it under the faucet, watching the water run into the canister.
Charley saw the wisdom in what Joanna said, even as she hated the truth of it, and even as she’d denied her emotions. “All right.”
“Now, let’s go back to the living room before Tricia wonders what’s going on in here.” Joanna put the canister in the refrigerator and walked out of the kitchen with two of the glasses.
Charley steadied herself before she followed Joanna, water in hand, and found her standing by the couch, the NFL picks in her hand. “Your office pool?”
“Yes,” Charley replied, somewhat surprised. “Why?”
“Are you any good at handicapping?”
“I won the pool the last two weeks.”
“Huh. I might have to challenge you on some of these.” She sat on the couch and studied the piece of paper before she patted the seat beside her. Charley caught the fascinated expression on Tricia’s face.
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