The discovery that night two years ago of Harley’s breast lesion and the subsequent insomnia wouldn’t interfere with his job. Once he passed the news off to his friend, Andy the breast surgeon, Jason could work without distraction. Setting up the anesthesia cart, going over the checklist of items necessary for its proper function, sadly, the only thing that had the power to distract Jason was Tiffany’s perfume. He got a whiff of it the moment she walked through the door. It was such a contrast from Harley’s scent; soft and floral, it permeated everything she wore, even her pillow. Harley’s smell made Jason smile. It was pleasant memories and good things to come.
Tiffany’s went straight to his groin, an exotic combination of smells from his teen days, musk and citrus and even patchouli. Turning his head to hide his smile, Tiffany was more like a teenager than an adult woman entrusted with lives. But she was a good nurse, reliable and safe, and in this day and age one couldn’t ask for much more. And she was pleasant to look at. Her breasts were amazing, two round globes that operated independently from one another, the talk of the locker room. In spite of Tiffany’s presence, Jason hadn’t thought of her in that way, yet. She was just another human being, regardless of his physical responses to her smell and her body. Devoted to his wife, another woman didn’t have the power to infiltrate his thoughts or fantasies, comparing her to a cute puppy that made you smile and warmed your heart but you’d sooner kill yourself than bring it home and have to housebreak it. Yes, Tiffany was just a friend.
But like a friend, he grew to depend on her for certain pleasures his job didn’t provide otherwise. She laughed at his jokes and didn’t yet add drama to an already drama-rich environment. Although on the day he’d get the news that his wife was dying of breast cancer, he wasn’t aware that he needed Tiffany, it wouldn’t be long before her presence became more important than it should have, and unfortunately, he confided in her, failing to see the disloyalty Harley might perceive from it. Tiffany was making inroads that day.
Harley paused at the lounge door, listening. She heard the drone of the deep male voice she knew right away belonged to her husband. Peeking in, it was empty, except for Jason. Jason and Tiffany. It appeared to be an innocent coffee break; he was sitting at the rectangular table with a cup in his hands, probably taking his first break of the day. She was sitting across from him, yammering, gesticulating with her hands, tossing her hair around, the blue cap all the nurses had to wear on the table in front of her.
The look on his face set Harley back. It was the look she thought he’d reserved for her; attentive, approving, interested and the disloyalty stung. Thinking of several criteria making him ripe for an affair; he was approaching middle age, his life was out of his control, his wife was draining what resources he had. A young, gorgeous creature was vying for his attention shamelessly, and he looked happy about it. Taking a deep breath, she stepped over the threshold, confidence waning, but determined.
“Surprise!”
Jason looked up, doing a double take from Barbie Doll to his wife and back again. Guilt on his face threw Harley a strike. What did it mean? Oh, please God, not Tiffany.
“You’re the surprise,” he said, getting up. Fortunately, for him at least, he didn’t waste a second going to embrace her, kissing her cheek, clumsily reintroducing her to Tiffany. “What brings you in town today?” He’s forgotten the appointment, thank god.
“I wanted to say hi,” she said, a wide smile plastered on her face. His discomfort was slightly more obvious than the smile so he didn’t notice how forced it was. “Can you slip away for a moment?”
“Sure,” he said, looking at his watch. Something about the movement, him looking at the date probably, signaled to him why she was in town and the color drained from his face. He knew, she was sure, or he would have asked her what the doctor had to say in front of Tiffany.
“I’ll let them know I’m leaving,” he said. She didn’t argue with him.
“I’ll wait out in the hall,” Harley replied, but when he didn’t say goodbye to Tiffany, Harley put her best friendly expression on and waved, an attempt at making amends for her wishes that Tiffany would disappear.
“Bye now, Tiffany. Have a good day back there in the trenches.”
Tiffany smiled a small, interested smile, checking Harley out with maybe a hint of annoyance.
“Hurry back,” she said facetiously. Harley knew then something hadn’t happened yet, but it might have if life had continued as it had; calm, uneventful, relatively healthy. Her breast’s intervention had put a stop to whatever Tiffany had planned, and if Harley worked quickly, she’d provide a reasonable substitute for her, someone worthy of her husband and children.
Out in the brightly lit hallway, the smell of death, of old blood and formaldehyde, dirty linens permeated everything. Harley wondered how she’d managed to spend half her life in such a dismal environment and not have scars to show for it. Soon, Jason came out of the men’s locker room door, dressed in Jason clothes; perfect jeans, slim fitting, short sleeved t-shirt, sandals.
“You are so handsome,” she said sincerely. “No matter how many times I see you walk through a door, it always takes my breath away.”
After kissing her on the mouth, he put his arm over her shoulder as they walked to the elevator, a backpack strap slung over his other arm. Harley glanced up at the security camera, aware the monitor was attached to the lounge wall across from where Tiffany sat, and smiled at it, knowing if they were being observed, that full mouth kiss had been witnessed, as well.
“You do it for me, too,” he said. “You look nice today.”
They rode the elevator down to the parking garage in silence, holding hands, the atmosphere of stress, of facing catastrophe as thick as fog. She glanced at his face, he was glassy eyed, a tick in his jaw gave away his inner turmoil. He held his hands out for the keys when she reached the car, unlocking, waiting until she sat down and had her seatbelt on before he closed the door. They rolled the windows down, the hot air blowing through the car.
“Do you want to go out for lunch?” he asked softly. She shook her head.
“Nope. I want to get home to the girls.”
“Do you want to tell me what he said?” They looked at each other; Harley reached for his hand and shook her head. Jason kept his eyes on her, searching her face. The enormity of it was unfathomable.
“The chemotherapy didn’t work,” she said. “I didn’t notice until this morning that a tiny area of my original surgical site is festering. He took a sample, but is sure it’s a reoccurrence.”
“Can they do anything?” he asked. “Clinical trials?”
“I don’t want any of that, Jay. I’m ready to live what I have left of the rest of my life with you and the girls. School starts soon but I wish we could delay it.
“I’m going to hold off using oxygen until I can’t breathe. I don’t want sickroom supplies around the house until it’s necessary.”
“Whatever you want,” he said.
“Andy needs to look at the wound, but if I have to have more surgery, I don’t want to have it at work.”
“Why, Harley?” He asked. “You’d get the best care there. Everyone knows you.”
“Honestly, because of Tiffany,” Harley replied, searching his face. “What’s going on with her?”
“Nothing’s going on with Tiffany,” he answered without hesitation. If ever a rehearsed answer that was it. She waited and he looked away, aware he had to address Tiffany.
“Nothing is going to happen with Tiffany. She’s let me know she’s available, that’s all. I would never get involved with someone like her anyway.”
“You mean someone with no morals?” Harley asked with eyebrows raised. Jason grinned.
“Someone with no morals. She could almost be my daughter.”
“Okay, now that we’ve established that Tiffany is an issue, how’d she let you know she’s available?” Jason fidgeted, leaning forward to start the car and thought better of it. If what Harley
said was true about her health, they had limited time together. He didn’t want Tiffany to be an ongoing concern.
“She came up to me during a case, actually. ‘If you need to talk, I’m available,’ she said.” He didn’t tell her it initiated a torrent of heartfelt conversations about the possibility of losing his wife.
“What did you say in return?”
“I thanked her,” Jason replied, “and went back to work. You saw her in action back in the lounge. Tiffany’s a one-man band. She keeps herself entertained.” Harley was satisfied with Jason’s explanation. If he said he wasn’t involved with her, then he wasn’t.
“Okay,” she said. “Thanks for allaying my fears.”
“You didn’t think I was having an affair with her, did you?”
“No, not an affair. Not yet, anyway. Jason, she wouldn’t be a good mother for our girls.” He grabbed her hand.
“You are insane, you know that?” he replied laughing, but scared to death. Starting the car, he turned the air conditioning on full blast.
“I’m serious,” she said, frowning.
“I know you are, and I’m telling you, you don’t have to worry.” He pulled out of the parking garage, heading to his car, not willing to have that conversation quite yet.
“Let’s go back to the shore. I’ll take emergency family leave until next week when the girls go back to school. We’ll play on the beach for a week, okay?”
“Okay. I’d like that very much.” She looked out the window, at the things she’d left unsaid. The doctor told her six months to a year.
“You know I don’t like to do that,” Jeremy Michaels had said. “It’s not fair to you. I don’t have a crystal ball, Harley. All I can do is quote statistics.”
“Give me the worst case scenario then,” she pleaded. “My daughter, Angie is going to graduate from high school next June.”
“June is a good goal,” he said, knowing how awful it sounded, but needing to be honest with her. Odds were not in her favor.
His words did make her feel awful, but the truth was important. She’d fight to live until Angie graduated high school. Tragically, she wouldn’t be there for Tina or for little Devon’s high school graduation, but she would celebrate all of their upcoming milestones with fervor, including Tina’s birthday, their wedding anniversary and her mother’s retirement. She’d make the Christmas holidays spectacular this year. Knowing the dangers of setting her expectations too high, she’d do what she could to make her children’s dreams come true.
They arrived home at the same time. Jason got into Harley’s car again and they sat in the garage with the door closed for a while, before it got too hot to bear. “I don’t want to broadcast the details,” she said. “Everyone knows it’s bad or I wouldn’t have needed more treatment. Let’s just leave it between us. If anyone asks, we need to agree on an answer.”
“Like what?” Jason asked. “If my parents ask, for instance, what do you want me to say?”
“How about we’re going to take one day at a time,” she said.
“Is that what we’re going to do?” he asked gently, needing more from her, but afraid to ask her for it.
“I don’t know how else to do it,” she answered. “We’re counting the days seems a little fatalistic.”
Jason paused, carefully navigating the territory. Unable to hold back, he came out and asked her.
“Did he say anything about how long you have?” Taking a deep breath, as deep as her battered lungs would allow, Harley nodded.
“I hope to make it by Angie’s graduation.”
Jason reached for her, gently embracing her, holding back the tears. He’d already cried so much, devastated about losing her, but he was ready to put that behind him. What lay ahead was the two of them making memories, showing each other as much love as they could, being together, in an imperfect world.
Chapter 11
After Jason left with Harley, Tiffany went back to the lounge and waited for her relief to call her back to work. Break long over; she had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach watching Jason and his wife in the security camera. First, the wife smiling as Jason left the lounge and walked toward her, him ducking down to kiss her, more than a peck on the cheek, grasping her upper arm with his free hand, then encircling her shoulder with his arm and walking off together. Perched on the edge of the table, focusing on the screen, she wouldn’t take her eyes off until they were out of sight.
Jealous of a dying woman, Tiffany knew she was being selfish and unreasonable. She was in love with Jason, had been from the first day she worked with him.
“Everyone, this is Tiffany,” Sally Albertson, the nurse manager announced during morning report. “Tiffany’s going into Dr. Forman’s room today with Joan.” Nodding at her, Joan led the way to their room to prepare for the first case of the day, explaining the routine.
“We meet the patient in the holding area and come back to the room to open up the supplies. The anesthesia team will bring the patient back when we’re ready. We usually have Jason Jones giving anesthesia.”
Reaching the room, Jason was setting up his cart.
“Jay, this is Tiffany,” Joan said. She didn’t see his expression change when he looked at her, or the smile he gave her. Tiffany saw, however, and his reaction pleased her. They reached over the operating table and shook hands, both laughing because it was not something normally done. The mutual attraction was immediate. He was interested in her, asking questions, and Tiffany was excited to be the center of attention.
After the patient was asleep on the table, Jason continued talking to her, spiking Andy Forman’s interest. So now both men in the room were feeding Tiffany’s ego.
“It was so typical,” Joan told the others at break. “The young, vivacious girl and the men vying for her attention made me sick.”
“Did Harley meet her yet?” A colleague asked.
“I’ll make sure she does. Tiffany can take the patient to recovery,” Joan said.
“Harley won’t care,” another nurse piped in. “Jason’s devoted to her.”
It didn’t take long for Tiffany to discover the truth; Jason loved his wife. The interest he showed in Tiffany was purely friendship, an innocent flirtation from a man almost fifteen-years older than she was.
Determined to get him to commit in some way, even to simply admit his attraction, the concept that she was longing for something immoral never occurred to her. She tried to picture Jason in her tiny apartment, or having dinner at her favorite restaurant in Chestnut Hill. Every activity the OR planned, she signed up to go. Tennis, hikes along the Wissahickon Creek, even shopping trips to the Reading Outlets with hopes that Jason would go, too. But the Joneses were family oriented, trips to his family’s shore house took up the summer months and activities centered on their children during the winter.
Shortly after Tiffany started working, Harley had surgery. Tiffany doubled her efforts at being indispensable. It was working until that fateful day when Jason would tell her he’d never be unfaithful to Harley.
❋
The week at the shore was blissful, in spite of the knowledge Jason and Harley shared. Bea and Dave came for a long weekend, family time spent in bathing suits, floating in the surf on boogie boards, no make up for the women, hot dogs and burgers and steak on the grill for dinner every night with fresh corn and Jersey tomatoes, and ice cream sundaes for dessert.
The salt water seemed to help the sores that were popping up along Harley’s old surgery line, and when she wasn’t in the water, she kept a piece of gauze over it with paper tape, and wore a sweatshirt with no bra. Supposing she’d have to deal with it eventually, it was the counter irritant that prevented her from fully enjoying every second with her family, knowing cancer cell-filled fluid might seep through her clothing. The cycle of grief was in full swing daily, denial; the way she was able to cope with her deteriorating health, anger at God, begging and making deals with him, depression, and acceptance. Each stage might last for second
s, but by the end of the week, she vacillated between depression and acceptance. Again, the big worry was for her girls.
Friday when the men left for a fishing trip to Egg Harbor, she told Bea the truth and they wept on each other’s shoulders. The children had had enough sun for the week, the girls reading in their bedrooms while the younger two played in the sand under the pine trees. Harley watched little Devon patiently guiding Michael, and memories of the older girls at that age pierced her heart. She had to find a way to stay in their lives, to influence their futures. Jason was a wonderful father, but she couldn’t get it out of her head that they needed a woman, someone who loved their father and them as well.
“I want to sign up on LoveMatch,” she said. Bea curled up on a lounge chair, reading a novel on her laptop.
“Right now?” she asked.
“Yep, right now,” Harley answered, determined.
While the women perused the online dating world, five teen-aged girls shared their fears for the next school year. Bennie would be the first of the cousins to go to college.
“I’m glad you’re not going to New York,” Cousin Sally announced. “It’s too far away for us to get together whenever we want.”
“I’m glad, too, Ben,” Angie said. “I’ll be so lonely without you.”
Tina nodded, but didn’t say what was in her heart. The girls skirted around the real issue; Harley’s health. Of the four girls, Tina might suffer the most when Harley died. Her artistic, gentle soul was terrified beyond anything she could imagine, the idea of losing her mother unthinkable. It wasn’t something she was able to put into words because she didn’t understand how her experience could be any worse than her sisters’ loss. Blaming herself, she denied there might be a special reason she was hurting more. No one understood her like Harley did. Jason knew there was something different about her, but he wasn’t able to identify with it.
Since Harley’s last chemo treatment, Tina sensed something was very wrong but she was too worried about her mother to inquire. An insomniac, she’d creep through the house during the early morning hours, hiding in the den with a book. She’d read more books that summer, sometimes one a day. Submerging in the plot of the stories, it was a way to forget what was going on with her mother. Bennie and Angie had their sports, friends, and each other. Devon was fickle; any adult woman seemed to satisfy her needs; Granny Fran or Harley, or one of the sisters, she’d latch on, demanding their attention, a survival mechanism she’d employ on her own.
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