“No, it’s not. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t the right thing to do,” Harley said. “Let me ask you something. When I go, if they should hook up, would you be her friend? You both teach, you craft. She had more to say to you than she did to me.”
“Harley, no one is ever going to take your place, I don’t care how much we have in common. But yes, if what you want to happen happens, I’ll make an effort on your behalf to befriend her.”
Bea put her arm around Harley and they embraced. “Now you need to find out a sneaky way to see what Jason thought of her. He makes snap judgements about women if I remember correctly.”
“I bet he says something about her during lunch,” Harley said.
The sound of hot grease snapping as Joe slid fresh fish dredged in corn meal into the pan, fried to perfection along with french fries and Fran’s homemade coleslaw was a nice segue from the Thanksgiving turkey. Everyone crowded around the table and sat in their usual places, passing dishes of food around. The sound of cutlery hitting china, the spurt from Joe opening a can of beer, moans of appreciation were the only sounds they heard for several minutes.
“Now how do you know Kathy?” Fran asked, breaking the silence for which Harley was grateful, starting the conversation easily.
“I met her at one of the online knitting groups I joined since I’ve been at home.”
“I liked her,” Bea said. “That afghan she’s making is beautiful.”
“She sure knows how to wield a filet knife,” Dave said.
“Boys, we need to bring the boat motor home this weekend,” Joe said, changing the subject. “We won’t be putting ‘er in the water again this season.”
The conversation swirled around Harley as the delicious, crispy fish turned to mush in her mouth. This season. Why was every word spoken by her family applicable to her? She saw Jason’s reaction to his own, innocent comment about her yarn stash, and then her not having much time to knit afghans for Christmas gifts. Was she becoming more self-absorbed as time moved forward?
During Thanksgiving dinner the previous day, she was in turmoil, unable to get past the idea that it would probably be the last one she’d celebrate. Sitting at the beautifully decorated table thanks to Bea, Harley saw her daughters in ten years; Angie with a baby on her knee, Bennie pregnant with her second, Tina and an unknown person deep in conversation, Devon grown up, on her way to college soon. Who would oversee their progress? Would Jason be able to do it alone if he stayed single? Tiffany fought to put herself in the family photos of Harley’s thoughts, but she kept vanishing, a faceless Kathy Agin, as yet unseen, taking her place, motherly, doting, a perfect replacement mother.
Interrupting the mirage, Bea leaned over. “You need to meet more than one candidate,” she whispered. Harley nodded, convinced that was the wise thing to do.
“I know. Let’s keep looking after lunch.”
“Are you okay? You didn’t eat much,” Bea asked, concerned as the others pushed away from the table, clearing their plates, Joe and his sons going out to clean up the boat and the girls back to their rooms.
“I was just thinking this will be the last Thanksgiving weekend. It’s nothing I haven’t thought of a hundred times before, but I’m trying to make the most of it by focusing on the details. Of course, what difference will it make? I’ll be gone.”
Fran noticed the food left on Harley’s plate. “How would you like a nice biscuit with jam and a cup of tea?” she asked, knowing Harley’s preference for sweets lately.
“I’d love it, but you don’t have to make it for me. I’ll get it myself.”
“I don’t think so,” Fran said, pointing to her to stay put. “You want some, too, dear?”
“No thank you,” Bea said. “I’m stuffed. I feel like I’m going to sprout gills.”
Getting up from the table, Bea left the room to get her computer while Fran brought tea to Harley. She sat down, obviously nervous.
“Are you okay, Granny?” Harley asked.
“I need to say something to you, but I don’t know how to do it without bringing up bad thoughts,” she said, wringing her hands. “You seem to be doing so well that I don’t want to say anything to disrupt the peace.”
“Fran, you can say whatever you need to. Trust me, the peaceful façade is just that. I’m not having a good time of it. Worried about missing out, I guess.”
Taking Harley’s hand in hers, Fran took a deep breath to help keep her emotions in check. “I just wanted to tell you that Pop and I will help Jason out.”
“Thank you, Fran,” Harley said, moved. “You always have. You know Jason will be okay financially, right? The other stuff concerns me. All the high school and college graduations, weddings and births.” The enormity of what she would be missing grew when it was spoken out loud. Sighing, she took a sip of tea to focus on something else.
“We’ll be there for all of those events just like we are now,” Fran said. “I mean, I hope we will be. We’re no spring chickens. I’d rather it was me leaving early and not you.”
“I hope you’ll be around for a long time,” Harley said. “Thank you for being such a wonderful mother-in-law. I can’t imagine my life without your help all these years. While my co-workers struggled with childcare, I had my mother-in-law to take over. You being there eliminated a huge stressor.”
“I’m the lucky one. I gotta great relationship with my grans. Some of our friends don’t see their families more than once a year. I love it that the teens call me, too. Angie calls me at least once a day.”
“Does she?” Harley asked. This was news that should have increased her sense of well-being, but instead, she felt worse, like her life was slipping away from her before she was even dead.
“Did she always call you, or is it recent?”
“More since Bennie graduated. I think she misses having Bennie at school to bounce things off during the day. She doesn’t want to upset Tina needlessly, so she calls me.”
Although it hurt her that Angie was unable to come to Harley with her problems, she understood why; she was the source of the problem. Gratefully, Bea returned with her computer.
“I guess I’ll go find Joe and see what he’s up to,” Fran said, reaching for her coat.
“Come on, girlfriend,” Bea said after Fran left for the outdoors. “Let’s get on the couch and compare notes.”
After they got comfortable, Bea started to read. “Jason’s got four new candidates. I weeded through them; three had bathing suit photos, and that leaves one possibility. Do you want to read it yourself?”
“No, you go ahead,” Harley said.
“‘Jason, I’m Carmen. I’m twenty-six years old,’ I know that’s young but let me get through the rest before you say anything. ‘I live in Yardley with my nine-year-old son. I’m a nurse at a hospital in Philadelphia. My hobbies revolve around my son, obviously and when we have free time we like to hike, cross-country ski and camp.’”
“She must have had the kid when she was seventeen,” Harley commented. “And made it through nursing school. She’s doing pretty well by herself.”
“It wouldn’t leave much time to find a suitable date, I guess. No time for bar hopping or socializing, however they meet men nowadays. What do you think?”
“She’s a little young, but I guess that’s okay,” Harley said. “I’m trying to figure out how I can assimilate her into the family. She’s too young to be my friend. I guess I can ask her if she knits.”
“I’m not sure you can use that one again,” Bea said kindly.
“Well, let me make the contact. She might not even want to be involved with our macabre scheme.” Bea slid the computer over to Harley so she could send her paragraph. “Now all we do is wait.” They wouldn’t hear back from Carmen.
Handing the computer back, Harley’s misgivings reappeared. “I hope Jason doesn’t hate me when he finds out what I did.”
“When do you think you’ll tell him?” Bea asked.
“I have no idea. I gue
ss when I’m sure about the woman we find. Who knows what will happen after I die. They could all come forward and torment him. I hope that doesn’t happen.”
“All the more reason to only introduce someone you’re sure of to your family,” Bea said. “I get the feeling you’re pretty sure about Kathy.”
“Yes, I like Kathy a lot. I knew from the second time we talked when something clicked between us.”
Harley’s phone buzzed. “It’s Kathy,” she said, looking at the number.
“I’ll give you some privacy,” Bea said, taking her computer back to her room.
“Hi, Kathy,” Harley said, answering.
“I wondered if there was any conversation after I left,” Kathy said. “I hope I wasn’t too obvious.”
“No, not at all,” Harley said. “I was a little worried for a second, but everything went well. What did you think?”
“Everyone was very nice. I enjoyed meeting your girls and Laura loved playing with Devon. Did they mention me at all?”
“My sister-in-law liked you very much, and her husband was impressed with your filleting skills.” The women laughed at that.
“I guess I’m jumping the gun. I’m sorry,” Kathy said.
“This might sound selfish, but try to focus on getting to know me,” Harley said. “I think then my family will sort of slide into the picture when the time comes.
“I really like you,” Harley said. “I’m comfortable talking to you. I hope that means something to you.”
“Oh, it does,” Kathy said emphatically. “I feel the same way about you.”
“We’re only here until Sunday night. When you get time off, I’d like you to come to our home. Do you think you’re up for that?”
“Yes, I would like to very much,” she said. “I’m off tomorrow if you want to get together.”
“You’re off Saturday?” Harley asked, the wheels turning in her brain.
“Yep. A reward for working Thanksgiving, I guess. Nothing like inviting myself over.”
“No, really it’s fine. We usually play cards or board games on Saturday night. Devon would probably love to have Laura here again.”
“Well, you know I love cards and board games,” Kathy said.
“Let me talk to Jason, okay? He’s a little weird about family time.” It was difficult for Harley to be forthcoming like she was being, but thought it was best for only honesty in this instance.
“I understand. I’ll be disappointed if he says no,” Kathy said truthfully. Changing the subject, “How do you feel, by the way? I thought you looked nice this morning.”
“Physically, I’m the same. Emotionally, I am coping. I wish it were different, that I could just say big deal, I’m not going to be around much longer. It won’t make any difference to me, only to my family.” Harley stopped, realizing she might have had a breakthrough.
“Boy, thank you, Kathy. Talking to you has helped me get back on the right path. I need to stop worrying about what I am going to miss and make sure my family is experiencing as much of me as they can.”
Suddenly lighthearted, Harley promised to ask Jason about inviting Kathy to Saturday night family night and said goodbye. Getting up off the couch, she thought a walk on the beach might be nice.
Knocking on the girls’ door, they called for her come in. Bea was inside, sitting on the end of the bed looking at fashion magazines with her daughter, Sally. “Who wants to walk on the beach?”
Everyone said yes, crawling off the bed. Leading the way, Harley stopped at the coat rack and handed coats off, bundling up in winter garb.
“It’s supposed to rain this afternoon,” Bea said. “Let’s bring umbrellas.”
The men and Fran looked up as the family walked off toward the water, little Michael running out ahead. Harley smiled to herself, happy she’d stepped out of her physical comfort zone. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to give into tiredness too soon. She’d make the effort to engage in as much activity as she could while they were at the beach. Exhaustion would take over soon enough.
“Let’s go!” she called, waving her daughters over. “Whoever finds the first shell wins a prize.”
“What will it be, Mom? The chance to wash the dishes tonight?” Angie called.
“Nope, something special. Maybe a trip to the mall with my credit card,” Harley replied. It initiated a mad run on the beach, where shell seekers found mollusks only or rarely the egg cases of skates, which were a type of winged ray fish.
While the children scurried along, finding everything but shells, Bea and Harley walked, sharing secrets, death and dying wishes put aside for a while.
“I always say you can plan your week around what you found buried in the sand the weekend before,” Harley announced.
“Like what?” Bea asked.
“Tell her about the Christmas ornament when I was ten,” Angie called.
“I did! I found a red glass ball. Not intact of course, but enough to see what it was originally. We went to the mall when we got home and there was an amazing sale going on. It was the first and only time I got all my Christmas shopping done five months before Christmas.”
“And I got the bike I wanted,” Angie said, running off to catch up with her sisters.
“Search for something to save my marriage,” Bea said.
Harley grabbed her arm. “What are you talking about?”
“Dave is up to something, I’m afraid,” Bea confessed.
Taken aback, Harley couldn’t believe it. “You’re imagining it. Dave would never be unfaithful.”
“It’s just a feeling something’s not right, and when I mention it, he gets angry and won’t talk about it. I think that’s a sure sign.”
“Should I ask Jason?”
“He’d never betray Dave,” Bea replied.
“I would. I mean, what do I have to lose? I need you two intact.”
“Well, okay, if you think you can get anything out of him,” Bea answered, uncertainly.
It was difficult to admit there was anything wrong with her marriage. Having the reputation of being a jovial good time guy, Dave’s friends often told him he was lucky to have landed a knockout like Bea, a great wife and mother, and a looker, too. Thankful that Harley hadn’t pressed for more details, Bea’s ego could hardly take the knowledge that Dave rejected her advances in the bedroom, too. It was more than just a feeling.
That night, Jason came to Harley about retreating to their bedroom. “How much can you cram into one day?” he asked. “I need some down time.”
Sitting on the end of the couch knitting on the afghan pattern Kathy had given her, everyone was in position, the children in sleeping bags on the floor or in bed reading, Joe and Fran in their rooms, Dave and Bea staring at the television while an action movie blasted away.
“Okay, I’ll be right in after I finish this row,” she said. When she was done, she folded up her project and stuffed it in the knitting bag.
“Good night, you all,” she called out.
“Nite, Mom,” the girls answered, turning back to the TV.
Bea, with a sullen look put her hand up to the side of face and mouthed, “Don’t forget.” Harley nodded, sad for them. Marriage was difficult in the best of times.
Jason was waiting for her, sitting on the edge of the bed with the remote in his hands. When she came through the door, he took her knitting bag from her and put it on the floor.
“Come here,” he whispered. “I thought of you all day. Of your beautiful body, your long legs. When you walked by me this afternoon on the way to beach and waved to me, I wanted to grab you and drag you inside right then. I couldn’t because of the audience, but at least you know I’ve been waiting for hours to do this.”
Charmed, Harley yielded to him, all her questions about Kathy and Dave would have to wait. Love was at hand, and she wasn’t going to pass it up for a second.
Chapter 17
Saturday morning a light rain fell, adding to the chilly, fall mood. Beach season was tr
uly over. Harley didn’t want to leave. If only it could be summer again, with her children home all day and the laziness of it accessible to them all. Hoping she’d have the upcoming summer to enjoy, she ended the speculation, refusing to allow anything to mar the peace she had, in part due to her husband’s attention the night before, hoping they’d been discreet enough. He’d whispered to her,
“This is just a matinee for what’s in store for you when we get home.” She didn’t have the heart to tell him she’d wished they could stay in Sea Isle forever.
Needing coffee but not wanting to disturb Jason while he slept, she stayed in bed, remembering everything she could about the previous day. During their walk on the beach, little Devon found a razor clamshell; a long, curved single shell.
“Devon wins!” Tina yelled, the others crowding around her, clapping.
The experience had accomplished a miracle for her little girl who behaved like a princess all evening, never uttering a whine. Smiling, Harley wanted more memories for her littlest child, with positivity and happiness surrounding her.
Harley’s illness hadn’t affected Devon, yet. The day Melissa shaved Harley’s head two years before intrigued Devon. “Where’s your hair, Mommy?” she’d asked, smoothing her hand over Harley’s head, looking this way and that.
“Aunt Melissa used her clippers on it,” Harley said, Melissa holding the pair up for her to see. “Do you like it?”
“I think so,” she said, staring at her. “You look like a movie star.”
Harley smiled at her little daughter, so innocent, who probably watched too much TV. “I feel like a star.”
Devon didn’t ask why Harley had shaved her head. Accompanying Harley to the first of the oncologist’s appointments at age four; doctors and ports and sickness had been part of her life. But according to her teachers, Devon was a completely unaffected little girl who didn’t yet show any signs of worry or grief like they had expected.
After the mastectomy, Devon climbed up onto Harley’s lap and held her, aware something was wrong, the bandages peeking out from her shirt. “Mommy has a boo boo,” she said, petting a triangle of gauze.
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