But Tina was a loner and Harley was her soulmate. “You’re just like my mother,” Harley once told her.
“How?” Tina asked, frowning. “I don’t think I’m like her at all.”
“She’s the most creative, talented woman, but it’s not evident because that part of her has faded.”
Discouraged, Tina couldn’t imagine her grandmother being anything but the quiet, plain, person her granddaughters knew her to be.
“What happened to her?” Tina asked.
“She probably didn’t have time to nurture her creativity when we came along. You know my dad was injured in the war and she had to work to support us until he could get back to work. When you have priorities like a family and job, there often isn’t time or energy left at the end of the day to do anything not directly related to caring for your family.”
“I’m never getting married then,” Tina said, dismayed.
“Tina, my life would be so awful if I didn’t have you and your sisters and Daddy. I can’t even begin to imagine how empty and purposeless it would be.”
“You’d be able to do whatever you wanted,” she replied. “Instead of working full-time and taking care of us like Granny Maryanne had to do.”
“I am doing what I want,” Harley said, hugging her. “I’m spending time with the most fascinating young woman I have ever met. Everything about you makes me so proud to be your mother. You’re so interesting, I just love hearing about what you’re going to do next. And my mother’s goal in life is to find all the good bargains for you at the Goodwill.”
“Oh, no. I’d forgotten about how much Granny likes searching for vintage for me. Now I feel unappreciative and selfish.”
Harley hugged her, laughing. “That’s being a teenager. She loves to do it, loves to search for beautiful things for you.”
“I’ll be more grateful next time,” Tina said.
Listening to her sisters and cousins talking about the upcoming school year, Tina could only think of one thing; how terrible it would be when Harley died, deciding right then that she’d never have her own family to torture as they were being tortured.
Bea got up and pushed her chair closer to Harley’s. They’d studied the different dating sites Bea found and decided on LoveMatch because it looked like they might be able to get away with a little subterfuge. Harley’s plan was to pose as Jason and then be honest with respondents who fit the criteria. She’d be apologetic and truthful with them immediately. Hopefully, the gallows atmosphere would not scare them away.
“Okay, let’s get started,” Bea said. “Here goes. Question number one. Are you looking for fun times or a serious, permanent relationship? Sorry, no brainer. Serious. Age?”
“At least thirty,” Harley said. “Someone who’s ready to settle down.”
“Divorced or widowed?”
“I can hardly eliminate widowed, can I?” Bea ignored her.
“Education.”
“I have to think I’m Jason, now, and forget about what I want.”
“What’s important?” Bea asked. “I would hope whoever it is thinks college is important for the girls. They have to be willing to sacrifice and not resent the money it will cost.”
“Exactly,” Harley replied.
“Physical appearance,” Bea read. “Are they serious?”
“It’s important, unfortunately,” Harley said. “Jason likes slender athletic types, he says. But when push comes to shove, probably someone voluptuous. He used to go nuts when I was pregnant. I mean, like a wild man.” They howled laughing. “If you repeat that, I’ll haunt you.”
“Scout’s honor,” Bea said, crossing her heart. “So how about fit, weight proportionate with height.”
“Perfect, Bea! Very good.”
“Do you think hair and eye color are important to him?”
“Probably not, but he is partial to redheads, as we know,” she answered smiling.
Bea typed away as they talked about what they thought Jason might like in a woman and what Harley wanted in a mother for her girls.
“Can she have children?”
“Of course,” Harley said. “We’d know soon enough if we could stand them.”
“Harley, how are you going to tell Jason you’re doing this? You can’t just spring a woman on him.”
“I won’t. If he knows how important it is to me, he’ll go along with it. I don’t want to deceive anyone. Keep reading.”
“Now they’re asking about Jason’s attributes,” Bea said chuckling. “You should type this stuff in. It might be more than I want to know about him.”
“What can they ask?” Harley asked, taking the computer from her. Starting to read, she had to stop periodically to catch her breath, more from laughing than lung function.
“In five sentences or less, describe your physical appearance.” The women exchanged smiles and spoke together.
“He’s gorgeous.”
“No offense to Dave,” Bea whispered, “but they don’t even look like they’re related.”
“Dave looks like Fran and Jason takes after Joe. They’re brothers,” Harley said. “They both have beautiful eyes and that hair.”
“Oh, that hair,” Bea repeated. They had thick, curly hair. But Jason had pale skin and dark blue eyes rimmed with long eyelashes. Dave had an olive complexion and nice brown eyes. Jason was tall and fit, just like his dad, while Dave was short and chubby like his mother. Loveable.
“This is difficult because if I describe Jason it’ll sound likes he’s bragging about himself.”
“Keep it simple,” Bea answered. They worked on the profile until the men returned from fishing.
“We’ll finish up later tonight,” Bea whispered, taking the computer from Harley.
“Who knew how exhausting this would be?” Harley replied, getting out of her chair.
“Yeah, you still have to wade through the respondents.”
“Do you think there will be that many?”
“According to LoveMatch, there are five women to every man,” Bea said. “I think you’ll be as busy as you want to be, interviewing.”
“What are you two conspiring about?” Dave called, approaching his wife.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Bea answered, smiling.
“Just hangin’ out,” Harley said. “Are we having fish for dinner?”
“We are, if I can get your old man to clean it,” he replied, laughing. Jason pulled fishing gear and a large cooler out of the back of the old pickup truck.
“Don’t we have some children around here who need to have a refresher course in cleaning fish?”
“I’ll round ‘em up,” Bea said, taking her computer in the house just in case Dave decided to snoop. He sat in her vacated chair.
“So sister-in-law, what’d you two do today if I may ask? My wife can’t keep secrets from me,” he said grinning.
“Did she tell you?” Harley hissed, sitting up. “Dave, don’t breathe a word. I need to find a way to convince Jay this is a good thing. And I’m never telling Bea my secrets again.”
“It’s not her fault,” Dave replied. “Last night I used her computer to look up something and she had all these dating sites up. I accused her of looking for herself.”
“You didn’t.”
“I admit I’m a little jealous. Anyway, she didn’t have much choice about letting me in what you were going to do. I think it’s amazing of you, truly.”
“We’ll see if it pans out. Your brother can be a little controlling. He might not go for it.”
“Ha! I’d want my input, if Bea ever did it for me,” he said. “Of course I don’t want her to have to. I’m sorry about all of this. I don’t say anything because I invariably put my foot in my mouth.” Harley reached up to embrace Dave.
“You’ve been the best brother-in-law a girl could ever have. I love you for being so good to my best friend.”
“You’re gonna make me cry,” he said, hugging her back.
“Take care of Jaso
n when the time comes,” she whispered. Dave fought the urge to say if wouldn’t be needed, knowing she needed validation and confirmation that life would go on after she left the earth. It made him ill, thinking about it, about his brother being free again, possibly bringing another woman around. Unreasonably, Dave felt jealous.
After Dave went inside, Harley waited for Jason to finish emptying the cooler, setting the girls up to clean fish, their bickering and whining comical to hear. She watched, a silent onlooker, trying not to allow sadness or regrets in.
Jason looked up at her, waving, and she smiled, staying in her lounge chair. She wanted him to approach her, willed him over. He must have picked up on her vibes because he said something to Bennie who turned to her and waved, too. He walked over and sat on the edge of Bea’s empty lounge chair.
“You look rested,” he said, reaching for her hand.
“I am. I’m feeling better about everything,” she said. “More hopeful.”
“Wow, well that makes me happy,” Jason said, reaching for her. “Hope is good.” He stood up and yelled something to the girls, Harley watching him, the line of his back in a t-shirt, his fit body; a thrill from long ago, a feeling she thought she’d never have again after chemo did a number on her libido, cruised through her body.
“Jason, bend down,” she whispered, pulling on his shorts. “I want to tell you something.” He bent over her chair with his ear to her mouth.
“Let’s make love tonight. I won’t make a peep so your folks won’t hear,” she said teasingly.
Smiling at her, she could tell he was pleased. “Wow, I was hoping you’d ask me,” he said, kissing her. “Absolutely. I won’t make a peep either.”
It was the flirtatious dialogue they used to have in the old days, before a cancer diagnosis, before the end of her life was a constant companion. They had LoveMatch.com to thank for Harley’s change of attitude.
Chapter 12
Love matches for Jason trickled in slowly at first, and then suddenly after school started again, in a flood. Harley knew she needed to start contacting the women who fit the bill before they lost interest.
Back at the shore for a fall weekend, Bea and Harley sat side by side in their lounge chairs, holding onto Bea’s computer.
“With the kids in school, mothers are finally free to look for dates,” Bea said, scrolling through the responses they’d received. “What are you going to do?”
“I’ll be upfront with them. It’ll help to weed out anyone who is grossed out by the gallows effect, or someone who wants instant gratification. I mean, I’ve got about a year, right? Not everyone will want to wait for a year,” Harley said. Bea was careful not to respond negatively.
“What will you say?”
“I’ve been thinking about how to approach it and I think I need to be straight right from the start,” she said. Getting out her note, she began to read. “This is Jason’s wife. I’m dying of cancer, have less than a year to live, and am helping to find a wife and mother for my wonderful husband and four daughters. My husband doesn’t know I’m doing so. Are you up to the challenge?”
Bea caught her breath. It was the first time she heard Harley refer to when she might die. Wanting to put her head down and have a good cry, she waited to respond until she could safely speak. Harley knew what was happening to Bea, allowing the time to pass in silence as she read about the candidates. Hanging on until Angie’s graduation in June was her goal, she wondered if she’d even last that long.
A string of cancer related health issues had risen to the surface. Slowly losing weight, she was afraid cachexia had taken root. The food she managed to eat no longer nourished her body, the looming danger of starvation shutting down all the systems that supported her life. Medical Marijuana use wouldn’t be legalized in Pennsylvania until the following year, but a friend of Dave and Bea’s who was in remission with MS and lived in New Jersey where it was legal, shared his stash with Harley. It was in the form of little cookies and she didn’t have to smoke anything, stinking up the house. It had a low THC factor so she didn’t get high from it.
By Halloween, she’d gained back a few pounds and looked better, according to Jason. And the best part was that she had regained the interest to pursue a mate for Jason just as the responses came pouring in.
“Very good,” Bea finally answered. “Succinct, no nonsense. Jason would approve, too, I think. Did you read through any of these candidates?”
“Just a few but most I vetoed right off the bat.”
“That was fast,” Bea said, thinking that maybe when she got right down to the work, the idea of finding someone to take her place would be an impossible task because of jealousy alone.
“Listen to this one,” Harley said. “‘I am really attracted to your picture. My name is Jessica, I’m twenty-five, work full-time at the Borgata in the Rainbow Room as a bartender. I went to Ocean County Community College for a year, and am saving money to go back next year. I love to play pool, travel to warm places and play with my nieces.’”
“She’s a little young,” Bea said. “Nix. Next.”
“Hi handsome, I’m Glorya, spelled with a Y. I work at the Family Fitness in Rehoboth Beach. My hobbies are running on the beach, exercising and listening to music. I’ll be thirty in April and an Aries. What sign are you?” Both women made loud, nasal buzzing noises and guffawed for a good minute, giving dual thumbs down after that one. When they were able to compose themselves, Harley with tears running down her cheeks started reading again.
“‘Hey, I’m Lynne. I’m unemployed at the time but in the summer I work on the boardwalk at an arcade.’ Wait, I know her age was here somewhere. Oh, here it is,” Harley gave a loud cackle. “‘I’m a young forty-nine.’ What the hell is wrong with these women? I thought I made it clear what ages we were looking for.”
They continued reading silently for a few minutes when Bea spoke up. “This one sounds promising. ‘Dear Jason, I’m answering because I see you spend free time during the summer in Sea Isle and I live there year round. My name is Kathy, I’m thirty, single with a five-year-old daughter, Laura. I have my teacher’s certificate for the State of New Jersey but have been unable to find a teaching job and don’t want to leave the area. I support my daughter by working as a dealer at a casino in Atlantic City. Laura and I live with my mother who helps with childcare. Laura has Downs syndrome but is a normal, healthy child. I don’t have time for many hobbies, but I like crafts and hanging out with my daughter. I hope to hear from you.’”
“God, how depressing,” Harley said. “Jason would be a lifeline for her.”
“Your job isn’t to save anyone, Harl. This is about finding a mother for your girls.”
“Well, let’s list the positives. She doesn’t say why she doesn’t want to relocate, but I bet it’s because her mother is helping her with childcare. Working to support her daughter is admirable. She could collect public assistance instead. A teacher is perfect because she’d be home during the summer.”
“Get in touch if you like her,” Bea said. “Start the dialogue.”
Harley copied and pasted her short narrative and sent it off to Kathy, mother of Laura. “Now we wait.”
“No, we better keep looking. There’s safety in numbers,” Bea said. They continued reading and vetoing, finding just a few more candidates that were promising.
“Listen to this. She’s perfect,” Bea said. “But it’s sad. ‘Hi Jason, my name is Donna. I’m thirty-six, a widow, a registered nurse, mother to two adolescent boys. My husband was killed in Iraq three years ago. I am just starting to date. I work full-time in the city, enjoy the Jersey shore when I can get there. I live in Northeast Philadelphia.’ What do you think?”
“I’m trying to think if I know anyone at work whose husband was killed in Iraq,” Harley said, frowning. “That’s almost too depressing.”
“There are five hospitals in Philly,” Bea said. “She could work at your hospital and you’d never know it, there are so many
nurses.”
“I’m trying to picture Jason rallying around a woman with a broken heart when he’s in a bad way himself and frankly, I don’t want him to have to spend the emotional energy.”
“Gotcha,” Bea said. “Should I change the criteria to no widows?”
“Well, just not new widows,” Harley said, feeling guilty. “Ugh, I didn’t think this would be so difficult.”
“Harley, you don’t have to choose anyone, got it? We’re just testing the waters here.”
“Keep reading,” she said glumly.
“This one is just for fun. ‘Hi Jay, my name is Cindy. I’m a young looking, forty-two. I won Miss Atlantic City Body three years in a row back in the nineties. You might remember me; I wore a leopard, one-strap off the shoulder bathing suit that the judges loved. I’m currently divorced, the mother of a twenty-three year old son and a ten year old daughter. I’ve lived in south Jersey all my life. I live and work in Ventnor. Hope I hear from you! You’re real cute!’”
“I hate to say it but Jason would probably love her,” Harley replied. “Except for the son, whom I don’t want around my girls, and the leopard bathing suit, she could have been a contender. Cross her off the list.”
“It’s your turn,” Bea said, pushing the computer over. “Read on.”
“‘Dear Jason, I’m Anna. I’m thirty-seven, a middle-school art teacher in Chadds Ford. My hobbies are fishing when I get a chance and playing cards and board games.’ She’s perfect so far.
“‘I have two children, a six year old boy, and a twelve-year old girl with special needs. I hope you’ll get in touch.”
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