by Lisa Mills
“So what’s new, Janna?”
The breeze toyed with Janna’s wiry red hair and blew it across her face. She captured the unruly strands and tucked them behind her ears. “Well, Cory lost a tooth. Ravioli is on sale ten cans for ten bucks at Food Mart, so I stocked up. And, as if that weren’t enough excitement for one week,” Janna grinned, warming to the subject, “I’m trying a new scent of those plug-in air fresheners. Cucumber-melon.”
“Well, don’t leave me hanging? Do you like it?”
Humor twinkled in Janna green eyes. “I’ve gained two pounds from it.”
Danielle sat up a little straighter. “You didn’t eat them, did you?”
“No!” Janna put one hand over her heart and held the other up in pledge. “But I swear, smelling fruit all day makes me hungry.”
“You’re crazy, Janna.”
She shrugged. “You’re not the first person to tell me that.”
Danielle laid her head back against the chair and chuckled. Janna was good for her, making her smile when life wasn’t giving her much reason to be happy. Across the yard, Trevor made car noises as he played. Danielle noted the lawn was getting long and weeds were taking over her landscaping. One more thing to add to her impossibly long to-do list. Trevor had a chemo treatment at the hospital tomorrow, but maybe the day after that if he wasn’t too sick ….
“Oh Danielle, I’ve been meaning to tell you that you have got to get your teeth cleaned!”
The sudden outburst—and a bizarre one, even for Janna—left Danielle scratching her head. She feigned a look of hurt and asked, “Does my breath smell bad or something?”
“No!” Janna shook her head, laughing at herself. “I’m sorry, that didn’t come out sounding how I wanted it to. Actually, I thought you’d like to meet the new dentist who just started working at the dental clinic.”
In a deliriously happy marriage, Janna couldn’t seem to understand Danielle’s choice to remain single. She’d appointed herself a personal matchmaker and was always on the lookout for eligible bachelors. She’d tried to fix Danielle up with relatives, Mack’s friends, and guys from her church. Danielle refused to participate, but Janna insisted on continuing the search, certain she’d find Danielle’s Mr. Right in the next office or store.
Danielle gave Janna the look … the one that said, “Please, girlfriend. We’ve had this conversation before, and we both know how it’s gonna end.”
But Janna wasn’t easily discouraged. “Come on, Danielle. He’s personable and polite. Seems like a gentleman. I’m guessing he’s about thirty, and did I mention he’s really good looking?” She wagged her eyebrows and grinned. “Couldn’t you at least go in for a check-up? Maybe you’ll get lucky and they’ll find a cavity.”
Danielle shook her head. “I’m not interested in dating anyone. You know that.” She didn’t date. The amazing love she’d shared with Kevin had ruined her for other men. No one ever seemed as handsome, as funny, or as kind as Kevin had been to her. The logic was flawed, considering that he’d abandoned her in the end. But despite what he’d done, despite the anger she felt toward him, she couldn’t escape the fact that she’d loved him to the core of her soul. There would never be another man like him. Not for her.
Janna wrinkled her nose in complaint. “Aw, Dani-girl, indulge me a little. I’m an old married woman. Dating adventures are history for me. Can’t you try to have some fun so I can enjoy it vicariously?”
Danielle rolled her eyes. “Buy a romance novel.”
A long-suffering sigh revealed what Janna thought of the suggestion. Danielle nudged her friend and smiled. “So did you come here for a reason, or are you just out doing some aimless meddling in other people’s lives?”
Janna leaned forward and pulled something from her back pocket. “I actually stopped by to give you this. I cleaned my house from top to bottom last night and found it behind the credenza where I put all the mail I collected while you and Trev were at the hospital. I’m really sorry that one escaped.”
Danielle took the letter from Janna’s hand and glanced at the return address. It was from her medical insurance provider. She groaned. “I think it’s my monthly premium.” Another bill, just what she needed. She tucked it into the pages of her magazine to deal with later.
“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you, are you interested in participating in a garage sale? A few of the ladies from church want to get together and have a big one.”
“I don’t think I have time with everything that’s going on.”
“Understandable. But if you find a few things you want to contribute, I’d be happy to take care of them for you. Just throw them in a box and I’ll do the rest.”
“Okay. Thanks for the offer.” Danielle’s mind began racing. With bills to pay, maybe selling a few things would help out, and if Janna was willing to help ….
Janna raised her arms over her head and stretched. “I should get moving before I’m tempted to take a nap out here. I was on my way to see my parents.”
The morning sun had worked its way up into the sky and was bearing down with more intensity now. “I better get Trev inside. I don’t want him to burn.”
“I know how that feels,” Janna laughed, holding out her arms for inspection. They’d been sitting outside less than twenty minutes, and already, pink tinged Janna’s freckled arms and face.
They stood, and Danielle walked with Janna across the yard. The briny scent of the Gulf carried on the breeze, making Danielle miss her strolls on the shore. She hadn’t been able to go since Trevor got sick. The gentle lap of the waves, the call of the gulls, and the wind whispering through the sea grass always calmed her, chased back the worries and stresses that plagued her soul. She could use a long walk right now.
“Cory misses playing with Trevor. Will he be cleared to spend time with other kids soon?”
“I hope so. He goes for maintenance chemo tomorrow. I’ll ask the doctor.”
Janna stopped at the gate and gave Danielle a quick hug. “Call if you need anything.”
~ ~ ~
Danielle scribbled out a check to her insurance carrier and stuffed it in an envelope. Things had been so hectic, she hadn’t realized the bill was missing until Janna brought it by. It took nearly everything left in her bank account to pay the premium. She wasn’t sure how she’d buy groceries or cover the co-pay for Trevor’s medications. He was nearly out of his anti-nausea prescription, and he would need a few more doses to get him through the next chemo treatment. And speaking of ….
She glanced at the clock. If they were going to make it to the hospital for his appointment, they had to leave in the next ten minutes.
“Trevor, find your shoes. We gotta go!”
A groan answered her request. Trevor had endured enough chemo that he knew what was coming, and his willingness to cooperate with his medical treatments was diminishing rapidly. She didn’t blame him. Who wanted to spend a couple days throwing up and feeling miserable if they could avoid it?
She tucked the insurance payment into her purse and walked down the hallway to his room. He sat in a kid-sized canvas lawn chair in front of his little television set, controller in hand, racing the Mario Brothers through the galaxy. “Trev, we have to go.”
His eyes remained fixed on the television, his face tight. He showed no sign that he’d heard her.
“Trev, now.”
He threw the controller and turned to her, nostrils flaring. “I don’t want to.” He bolted to his feet and darted past her as fast as his feet would move.
Danielle rushed after him, scrambling down the hall and through the kitchen, catching him at the back door. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him against her. “Trevor, where are you going in such a hurry?”
He thrashed against her hold, pushing hard against her shoulders and arching his back. Her shin took a firm kick that would probably leave a bruise.
“Let me go! I wanna go outside.”
“Not right now, honey.” She held firm
as he fought, trying to stay calm as he spent his anger in her arms.
After a few minutes, his body went limp. He laid his head on Danielle’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around her, turning her restraining hold into an embrace. She rubbed his back and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. “What’s this about, babe?”
“Mommy, I don’t wanna go. Please, don’t make me.” He sounded so pitiful, so desperate, that she wanted to snatch him up and help him run away, far from doctors and diseases and treatments that steal away the precious years of childhood. She understood his reluctance too well. So how did she convince a seven-year-old that letting the doctors make him radically sick was for his own good? She hated the part she had to play in this scenario. She didn’t want to go any more than he did, and her willpower was failing.
Hugging him a little tighter gave her the strength to say what she had to. “We have to, baby. I know it’s not fun, but we have to.”
He whimpered, and a little sob shook his body.
Her heart broke for him. It wasn’t fair. Other little boys were out playing in the sand and surf. They rode their bikes, collected bugs in Mason jars, and pulled little girls pigtails. Trev deserved to be doing boy stuff with his friends, not stuck in a hospital getting chemicals dumped into his veins.
“How ‘bout if I carry you? And we’ll stop on the way and get a treat.” He’d throw it up later, but if it eased his apprehension a bit, then so be it.
He gave a little nod, his forehead rubbing against her neck.
With a grunt, she pushed to her feet, her legs straining to lift both her weight and his. Little sniffles came as Trevor struggled with his fear.
Her heart faltered, but her feet kept moving, doing what had to be done.
Chapter Eleven
Danielle hustled through the living room, fluffing throw pillows, folding a lap blanket, arranging a few magazines and books in a neat pile on the end table. The check from Mr. Hartog had finally arrived. After cutting a check to the printer for his portion, she had enough left to pay the rent. What a relief to be caught up, if only for a week or two. She’d called her landlords, telling them she had the rent check and asking if they’d like her to drop it by their house. Mrs. Mannings told Danielle that she and her husband were leaving to run errands and would be happy to pick it up.
Feeling self-conscious about the messes here and there, Danielle made a quick effort to straighten the place before her landlords arrived. She glanced around, trying to see her home through the eyes of a visitor. The place had a lived-in, cozy look to it, a little cluttered but tidy enough to pass for good housekeeping.
“Mom! Where’s my towel?” Trevor yelled from the bathroom.
“You’re done already? Did you wash your hair?”
His answering giggle brought a smile to her face. “I don’t got no hair.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot.” It was a running joke between them, something they did to lighten the mood and chase back the worries they both sometimes felt. “Give me a minute. Towels are in the dryer.”
She headed for the laundry room, humming. Trevor had recovered from his last chemo treatment, and when she finished this load of laundry, the household could be considered officially recovered as well. She grabbed a towel from the dryer and headed for the bathroom.
The door was ajar, so she popped her head inside. “Here’s a towel, Trev. You need help?” He sat on the edge of the bathtub, a golden sponge in his hands, giving himself his daily sponge bath. “Mom!” He covered himself with his arms while flashing her a look of dismay. “I can do it myself. Get out.”
Danielle tossed the towel near the tub and backed out of the room. “Just don’t get any water on your PICC line or bandages, hon.”
“I know, Mom. I know.”
“Holler if you need me.” She stood in the hall, staring at the closed door. He’d been so reliant on her lately, letting her dote on him and welcoming her help with all the little things. He feels better for a day, and everything changes. She was having trouble switching gears like this.
The doorbell rang.
Danielle tapped the bathroom door. “Trevor, the Mannings are here. Get dressed before you come out to the living room.”
“Okay.” The drain stopper squeaked as it released, followed by the sucking sound of the water filtering down the drain. “I’m gettin’ out.”
She gave the house one last inspection as she headed for the door. There was a sense of order, even if it would never be featured in a magazine spread.
Mr. and Mrs. Mannings stood side by side on her front step, both gray-haired and slightly hunched. Mr. Mannings held his hat in one hand, the other perched lightly at his wife’s elbow. Mrs. Mannings clutched an oversized purse to her breast, the turquoise vinyl clashing with her pink and orange flowered dress.
Danielle pushed open the screen door. “Come in. I have the check over here on my desk.”
Mrs. Mannings flashed Danielle a toothy dentured grin and took a few shaky steps forward, her husband following close with a steadying grip on her arm. She led them inside and to the living room. They hung back near the foyer as she went to her desk and picked up her rent payment.
She delivered it to Mrs. Mannings with a sheepish smile. “I’m really sorry this is late. Things got away from me with all the traveling and demands of Trevor’s treatment.”
Nodding, Mrs. Mannings accepted the check and stowed it in her big purse. “We understand, dear. Don’t worry about it.”
Danielle murmured her thanks and waited for them to turn back toward the door. Mr. Mannings shifted his weight from one foot to the other while Mrs. Mannings busied herself looking everywhere but at Danielle. Neither of them made a move to leave.
Danielle cleared her throat to fill the awkward silence. Maybe they wanted to stay and visit for a bit. “Um, would you like to have a seat? I think I have some tea.”
Mrs. Mannings shook her head, setting her gray curls to dancing. “No, thank you, dear, but we do need to talk with you.”
Her tone made Danielle’s stomach clench. “Okay.”
“Well, you see,” she said in her papery thin voice. “We’ve been talking with our son-in-law about our rentals—we have three rentals, you know—and he feels we should sell them.”
Sell. The word fell like a sledgehammer, pounding a spike of fear into Danielle’s breast. Sell the rentals … one of which was her home, the home she and Trevor had lived in for five years. The idea was unthinkable. “You’re selling this house?”
Mrs. Mannings gave an apologetic shrug. “Tourism has driven up the value of real estate in this area of Florida. We’ve owned the homes for over thirty years and would make a tidy profit. He suggests we sell out and invest the money in some CDs or a nice Mutual Fund. It would be more profitable than collecting rent. And besides, we’re getting too old to deal with maintenance issues and all the taxes and paperwork that come with owning investment properties.”
Knees weak, Danielle took a few steps back and lowered herself into the recliner chair. She hadn’t insisted on renewing her rental contract since that first year, so neither party was obligated to continue the lease at this point. The Mannings had seemed happy to have her stay on. She’d taken it for granted that the house was hers for as long as she wanted it. “Is the decision final?”
Mrs. Mannings pursed her ruby lips and stared at the floor, looking as if she might cry. Her knuckles went white as she clutched her purse straps.
Mr. Mannings patted her shoulder gently, then took over the role of spokesperson for the duo. “We feel real bad about this because we’ve come to love some of our tenants. But we’re old, and we need to let go of this responsibility. We just talked with a realtor. She hopes to have them on the market in a week or two.”
Danielle’s heart plummeted through the hole that opened in her stomach. “So soon?”
He scratched his balding pate and offered a conciliatory smile. “We asked that the realtor allow the tenants the first right to purchase. If
you’d like to buy the house, you’ll be given preference.”
They’d been kind to include that stipulation, but Danielle had a good idea of what the sales price would be. Over the last few years, wealthy out-of-towners had descended on the local real estate market like starving piranhas. In search of vacation homes and investment properties, they had bought all the beachside property and rapidly snatched up surrounding land. While her cozy cottage wasn’t right on the beach, it was only a few blocks away. The price would be exorbitant, and she didn’t have the income or the credit to get a loan of that magnitude. She’d been lucky to live here this long at the affordable rent they’d charged her.
“I … I understand.” She choked the words past the lump in her throat. “If this is something you need to do—”
Trevor chose that moment to dart into the room, sporting jeans and a Dolphins t-shirt … and less hair than old Mr. Mannings. “Hi, guys. I’m here,” he called, darting up to the grandmotherly woman and giving her a quick hug. The older couple had declared Trevor an honorary grandchild years ago, and Mrs. Mannings often had a cookie or a sweet for Trevor when Danielle dropped off a rent check or stopped by to talk about a needed repair.
Mrs. Mannings looked down and gasped when she saw Trevor, the first time they’d seen him since his treatments began. She moved a trembling hand to cover her mouth. Tears glistened on her lashes. “My dear, sweet boy,” she muttered. Her gaze darted to her husband, and Danielle read the pain-filled look that passed between them. Danielle had mentioned Trevor’s condition to them, but maybe they hadn’t realized the extent of his condition until seeing the evidence.
“My heart is breaking. Asking you to move at a time like this.” Mrs. Mannings dug in her purse and pulled out a tissue.
Mr. Mannings scrubbed a hand over his wrinkled face. “Well, maybe we could give you a little more time. The realtor wanted us to ask you to be out in three weeks, but maybe we could give you five. Six even, if we stall a bit.”
Five weeks? It hadn’t occurred to her things would move so quickly. “Is there a reason for the rush?” she asked Mr. Mannings.