“I just got a text from Jason. He wants me to wait,” Fran said, shrugging her shoulders. “I’m getting hungry and this smells good. I’ll eat before I leave.”
“Did you hear me?” she asked Jason. But he’d hung up and was already pulling into the driveway. She watched him get out of his car, still in his scrubs. He must have raced out as soon as he got relief, the add-on orthopedics cases forgotten.
“What’s going on?” she asked, knowing. He kissed her and pushed into the house.
“Mom, just stay a minute longer. I need to talk to Harley.”
“No rush,” she said, curious, putting a little food in front of Devon and sitting down with a plate to join her. “Early dinner.”
Jason had his hands on her shoulders, leading her through the hallway to their bedroom. “What is going on with you?” she asked again, annoyance growing.
“I talked to Andy and he wants to do a simple punch biopsy tomorrow. Both he and the radiologist think we should act quickly.”
“A weekend is going to make that much difference?”
“It might, and we aren’t willing to take the risk. This way the specimen can be processed and you can see an oncologist next week if the diagnosis is confirmed.”
“Okay, Jason, you have to let these people talk to me. I don’t like this middleman stuff. The only reason I didn’t freak out with the radiologist is that I was up all night researching and know all about IBC.”
“I’m really sorry, but I just wanted to push through this. Bear with me, okay? We need my mother to watch the kids tomorrow for a few hours. Then we can go to Sea Isle if you want.” That scared Harley. Jason never wanted to go to the shore and he especially never initiated going.
“Alright,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “I sure as heck didn’t think I was going to spend my weekend thinking about cancer.” She didn’t say the rest of her life.
“Why don’t you go sit with Devon and tell my mother to come in here so I can tell her.”
“Jason, what did I just say? I’m capable of telling her. You go sit with Devon and tell her to come back here.” He was about to argue with her, the battle of the wills of Mr. and Mrs. Jones famous in the family.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, looking around the bedroom, she smiled, liking their room. It was comfortable and uncluttered. “Knock knock,” Fran said. “You summoned me?”
“I did. Sit down, Granny.” She patted the bed next to her.
“My son said you need me to sit tomorrow morning for a few hours but that you would tell me why. I’m frightened.” Harley turned to her sweet mother-in-law and looked at her face, her flushed cheeks and bright eyes, and she wondered if she knew.
“I guess I am, too,” Harley replied. “It appears that I might have breast cancer.” Fran gasped and put her hand to her mouth. “It could be an aggressive type. Rare. Only five percent of breast cancers are the kind I might have. Jason arranged for me to have a biopsy in the morning. It’s called a punch biopsy because he’ll take a tiny cylinder of tissue, including the skin. So that’s what’s happening.”
Harley took a deep breath. It was the first time she’d used the words I might have breast cancer. There was still a chance it was something else. Fran took her in her arms and held her.
“I’m so sorry you’re going through this, but I’ll help.” Harley wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and got up for a tissue.
“You already have. I’ll find out from Jason what time we have to leave.” They walked back to the kitchen and Jason was pacing, talking on the phone, saying goodbye.
“What time?” she asked softly.
“Andy said to meet him at his office at eight. You don t have to get here too early, Mom because Bennie and Angie will be here and they’re old enough to watch over things until you arrive.”
“I’m up at five anyway.” He kissed Fran goodbye and she came over to hug Harley again. “Bye bye, Devi,” she called. “Throw Granny a kiss.”
“We’ll have to tell the girls as soon as I get the results,” Harley whispered after Fran left. “I don’t like this waiting around for results though. If it was going to be done in the hospital the pathologist could look at it right away.”
“I think he’s coming in just for you. Andy will run it over as soon as he has the tissue. Let’s try to relax tonight if we can.”
“I love Friday nights,” Harley said out loud, taking Devon in her arms and squeezing her. “I’ll make hors d’ oeuvres, and we can watch a movie.”
“What’s that? Are you going to make a horse?” Devon asked. Harley laughed.
“No, honey, I’ll make special snacks, just for you. What would you like to eat?”
“Ice cream!”
“Ha! Well you can have that, too.” Suddenly exhausted, the night of research was catching up with her.
“We’ll probably fall asleep within the first half hour,” Jason said disappearing into the back of the house, his voice trailing him. “I need to get out of these gross scrubs and take a shower.”
Harley sat down at the table while Devon finished eating her early dinner, looking forward to running next door to play with their neighbor’s son. All of the things that usually drove her, the need to get the house cleaned or laundry done, the lists of items that haunted her at night needing fixing, or buying, or getting rid of, no longer meant a thing. If she could sit with her daughters at the table chatting for the rest of her life, she’d be satisfied. Even the house they worked so hard to acquire suddenly took on a new significance, and she saw the wisdom of her parents living in a trailer in order to keep their life uncomplicated. If she were dying, would her last days be spent worrying about making a house payment?
“I’m home!” A familiar voice echoed from the mudroom as twelve-year old Tina Jones arrived, banging through the door with her violin case and backpack. The enigma of the family, although never exposed to the sitcoms of the nineteen-eighties, Tina looked like a cast member from Saved by the Bell. Very particular about her clothing since third grade, she begged Harley to take her to Salvation Army or Goodwill to shop. Fran, who loved to thrift shop, would take her when Harley was unable to. Hair pulled into a ponytail at the side of her head, Tina was a devotee of headbands and scrunches. Clip on rhinestone earrings and pop beads filled several jewelry boxes, scouring garage sales for more, a beloved pastime.
Older sisters Bernadette and Angela pampered her and humored her. They were just the opposite; uniform dressing in jeans and shirts, they were both no nonsense jocks. Tina liked creative writing and played the violin in the school orchestra, wouldn’t consider getting her hands dirty, and bargained with her guidance counselor to do filing for her instead of taking gym.
“She is not going to fit in at the high school,” Bennie said. “I’m really worried about it.”
“Maybe she’ll change her MO by then,” Angie said.
“Ha! I doubt it,” Harley said. “Let Tina be Tina.”
“Mom, that’s what I’m worried about. Her friends are just as bad, if not worse. One of the boys in her group wore neon green jeans to my soccer game. He was in green from head to toe. It was disturbing.”
The girls laughed, but not in front of Tina. They would coddle her and enable her to stay different in spite of their worries.
That afternoon when Tina arrived home from violin practice, Harley got up from the table to greet her peculiar daughter and choked back the tears when she saw her. She was beautiful.
Holding her out at arm’s length, Harley flattered, “Tina Marie Jones, I love your outfit today!”
“Do you? Well I wish I could find more of these striped tights. They’re very Wicked Witch of the West, don’t you think?” Wearing high top sneakers, she pointed her toe and moved her foot from left to right, holding her skirt up.
“Very wicked witch. I like your denim jacket, too. Where on earth did you get that?” Over her rose patterned knit dress with full skirt, she was wearing a bright pink denim jacket. With her blac
k striped tights and pink high-tops, definitely a throwback to a happier time.
Harley noticed a pimple on Tina’s chin she’d attempted to cover up with makeup. Her daughter was growing up. If Harley died, she would leave four girls behind. Biting her tongue as hard as she was able, the tears and sobs that beckoned to come out evaporated. She would fight to stay strong for her girls.
Taking her violin, Harley asked Tina about orchestra practice and if she needed anything for school which was starting in a few weeks. “I don’t think I’m ready for school,” she said. “It doesn’t feel like summer. We’ve hardly been to the shore.”
“Well, summer’s not over yet,” Harley replied. “Come in and have a snack. Granny made sausage and peppers but I’ll fix you something else.”
On top of everything else which was different about her, Tina was also a zealous vegetarian. Meal times were easy because she’d eat everything they ate except animal products.
“Can I have fried rice?” Harley nodded and set about making it for her, enjoying doing something special for her daughter.
“Do you want to get changed? We’re going to have movie night tonight, with snacks, whatever you want.”
“Popcorn! Where’s Devon?”
“She’s playing next door,” Harley said, measuring water and rice into a saucepan.
“I don’t like it when my sisters are away. Everyone should be here at home,” she called, walking back to her room, the words sending chills down Harley’s spine.
The night stretched out and neither Harley nor Jason fell asleep right away as predicted. Everyone piled onto the giant sofa in the family room, a parent at each end in a recliner with several recliners interspersed. After midnight, Harley heard Jason whispering in her ear. “Come on, sweetheart. Everyone’s out cold.” He helped her up and they made sure the girls were safe in their recliners, only Devon carried to bed. Harley paused to look at the scene, the TV still on but the sound turned down, three daughters sound asleep.
“Thank you for my family,” she said looking up at Jason.
“You, too,” he answered. “We are really lucky.”
“I hope so,” Harley said. “I hope you’re right.” But she knew in her heart they weren’t lucky. Luck had nothing to do with it.
❋
On the way to Andy Forman’s office the next morning, they held hands when possible, but didn’t talk much.
“I haven’t had enough coffee,” Harley finally said.
“Me either. We’ll stop at Wawa on our way home.” Wawa was the local convenience store, which had the best coffee. Just the thought of it helped relax Harley because stopping for coffee was something they did together whenever they were out alone. The older girls preferred the drive-thru window at any fast food place.
Tina however, couldn’t stand it. “Ew! Take me home first!” she’d cry. “I’ll have to wash my hair if you bring french fries in the car!”
Harley started to laugh, the memory preferable to thinking of their destination. “The last time we tried to take everyone out to dinner Tina freaked out.”
“How could I forget? Where did Tina come from anyway?” Jason asked, exasperated but laughing, his daughter’s quirky avant-garde personality a mystery.
“My mother,” Harley answered. “Take away the nursing uniforms and the order in her life that she had to have because of my dad. It’s evident in her garden.”
“It has to be, because she doesn’t take after us. None of them do, except for Bennie.”
“Angie looks exactly like you!” Harley said, laughing. “Her hair, those beautiful raven curls and her blue eyes.”
“Bennie takes after you.” The first daughter, Bernadette.
“That’s only because of the hair,” Harley said. Both she and Bennie had thick, red hair.
“I’m glad we’re letting Tina be herself,” Jason replied.
“There’s no other way,” Harley said absently, looking out the window. They’d arrived. Jason pulled into the empty parking lot next to Andy Forman’s beat up ancient Ford; the only car there.
“You okay?” Jason said softly. Harley shook her head.
“I feel like throwing up.”
“Take deep breaths.”
Doing as he said, in the past, she’d have argued with him, but there was nothing to lose now. If he thought deep breathing was going to help her get through this nightmare, she’d deep breathe. They got out of the car and met in the front of it, reaching for each other’s hands.
Andy was waiting for them at the door to his office.
“Jeez buddy, you could’ve dressed for my wife,” Jason said, shaking his head. Harley let out a guffaw, slapping her knee. Andy was wearing beat up sweatpants and a stained but clean t-shirt, complete with holes.
“I’m trying to help Harley relax,” he said. “And it worked.” He held the door open and they walked through the entryway, the entire scene surreal.
“I’ve never been in your office,” Harley said.
“You’re not missing anything,” Jason droned. Andy smacked him on the arm.
“Nice, real nice.”
“Why do I feel like I’m with two adolescents?” Harley asked. But she had to admit, her fear had been somewhat alleviated, until he handed her a sterile betadine packet.
“Let’s get this over with and then I’m taking you to the diner for breakfast,” Andy said, pointing to a door. “Go in that room and put a gown on with the opening to the front. Wash your breast off with this packet. Just the area you’re concerned about.” She knew what to do, but it was habit, him directing. The men talked about tennis rackets while she went into what turned out to be a bathroom. There was a shelf stacked with patient gowns. The light was awful, florescent and yellow, casting a yellow glow to her already pale red-head’s skin. Taking off her bra, she put her hands up to her breasts. It wasn’t that she cared that much about them, but they were on her body. They’d nourished her kids. They looked nice in a bathing suit, taking the focus off her belly. Now, they were at risk. She wondered if she could have done anything differently, if there had been something in her diet or her environment that led to this.
Walking out of the bathroom holding the gown closed, he patted the end of the exam table. “We can do this with you sitting right here, okay?” She nodded. “Can I take a look?” Opening her gown, she looked over at Jason, but he was more interested in seeing her breast.
“You should have looked at it before you had her put all that brown crap on it,” Jason said, growing nervousness clear in his voice.
“I’ll wipe it off. It needs to be prepped again anyway,” Andy said. He reached for an alcohol wipe. “This’ll be cold.” It gave her goose flesh. Andy put exam gloves on and gently pushed her breast over. “Is this the area?”
Harley looked down and started to speak but Jason was right there, being her voice, one octave away from hysterical. “That’s it, that half-dollar pucker. Can you see it Andy?”
“I see it,” he said gently. Harley thought Andy’s calm demeanor was more for Jason’s sake, knowing his friend was on the edge, than it might be for her.
The evening before when he knew he was going to come into the office for Harley, Andy and his nurse set everything up for a procedure that turned out to be little more than a needle biopsy. All of the paperwork was filled out and the specimen container labeled and ready. Harley wouldn’t say it was the most fun morning she ever had, but it wasn’t the worst, either by far.
After he did the biopsy, he had Harley hold a wad of gauze against the site. “When you get home, put some ice on it, twenty minutes on, twenty off.” He turned his back and put the tissue in a little vial of formalin.
“Are you hungry?” he asked Jason. The last thing Harley wanted to do was sit at the diner for hours listening to those two talking.
“I need to get home and relieve my mother-in-law,” she said, butting in. “You’re both welcome to go.”
“We’re going to the shore today, remember? My fa
ther’s been bugging the heck out of me and now I think it’s the most important thing I can do.”
“I can’t wait,” Harley said, smiling. “To the shore!”
“Well, I’m truly insulted,” Andy said, joking. “The Jersey shore instead of breakfast with me.”
“You’ll get over it. Come on, woman; get your clothes back on so we can head home.” Harley hopped off the table and went back into the bathroom, her mind blank. She could hear them plotting. Andy would run the specimen over to the lab. Now that it was in formalin they couldn’t do a frozen section, but the pathologist was coming in to do the complete histology and examination. They’d have an answer right away. It made her sick thinking that in a few hours she would know the truth, no more hoping and praying that it was benign once she had a diagnosis. If she had cancer, she’d know it for sure. They stopped talking when they heard the doorknob turn.
“If you guys don’t start including me in your tete-a-tetes, I’m going to Barney.” The men gasped; Barney was an archrival of Forman and the rest of the breast specialists at their hospital.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Andy said, teasing.
“Don’t worry, we get your point,” Jason said. “We’re only trying to spare you unnecessary worry.”
“Well stop it, please. I could hear everything you were saying.” She got her purse and they followed her out of the office.
“So I’ll call you both later.” Andy said. He reached for Harley and hugged her, kissing her cheek, hugging Jason, too.
Chapter 4
The Jersey shore was a place of childhood memories for the Jones family. Jason’s grandparents kept a trailer in the Piney Adventure campground since it had opened in the nineteen-thirties. Finally, working class Philadelphians who didn’t have the money for lavish vacation homes were able to enjoy the beauty of the area. Each generation upgraded their home; currently a five-bedroom summer cottage with a gigantic great room and a huge screened porch, one block from the beach. Fran and Joe had the master suite, and their two boys each had two bedrooms, one into which two sets of bunk beds were jammed. Fran made the sleeping arrangements comfortable by placing daybeds on the screened porch and two huge sectional recliner sofas in the great room. The older children preferred staying up all night anyway and sleeping on the recliners worked out perfectly. When the adults got up in the morning, they’d move back to the bedrooms.
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