Putting the finishing touches on the basement remodel, Dave finally spoke up. “I feel like I’m with a bunch of zombies when I’m here. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jason said, in denial.
“I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you’re about as vacant as Harley is, Jay. What the hell?”
“Fuck off, Dave,” he shouted. “This is the best I can do. What? Aren’t I doing enough to make you jealous anymore?”
“Knock it off you two,” Joe hissed. “You’re both acting like jerks. Dave, leave if you’re not going to work. Jason, it’s time you took a break.”
Both men heeded their father’s words; Jason going upstairs to see how Harley was doing while Dave vacuumed drywall compound dust. The last piece of drywall had been taped, compound sanded, the whole place ready for paint.
Harley was sitting up in a recliner in the den leafing through a decorating magazine, more awake than she had been in days.
“Would you like to come downstairs and see what we’ve done?”
“Is it finished?” she asked.
Jason nodded. “Just needs paint and then we have to decide about the flooring; carpet, vinyl or hardwood.”
“Help me out of this chair. I can’t wait to see it.”
It had been weeks since she’d last tried to navigate the steps. “Do you want me to carry you?” he asked, uncertain.
“Ah, no, I don’t think so. I’ll walk,” she said, laughing, forgetting he usually carried her everywhere she went as long as he was home. “I’ll take it slow.”
He went in front of her and she held on to his shoulders, looking down, slowly taking one step at a time. “It’s not so bad,” she said. “I feel like I need to move around a little bit more than I have been.”
The men stopped what they were doing when she reached the bottom step. “You made it,” Joe said, uncomfortable around sickness, but happy she was there.
Harley looked around, pleased at the finished product. “This is really nice,” she said. “You guys did a great job. Thank you so much.”
She nodded at Dave, giving him a little grin and he nodded back, his expression bland, petrified to be near her, realizing how close to death she must be. Joe noticed him and made a mental note that he needed to speak to Dave soon.
Dave had never asked Harley for forgiveness for squealing about LoveMatch.com to Jason. At the last weekend at the shore, it had been cordial between Bea and Harley, if not a little cool, but Dave kept his distance. Now she didn’t seem to notice the tension between brothers down in the basement.
“This will be a great space,” she said. “I can see family gatherings down here. What about a home theater?”
“We could do that,” Jason replied. “It’s probably the best use for it.”
They discussed several decisions that still needed to be made before Harley said she was getting tired and wanted to go back up to her recliner.
“Thank you again,” she said, waving over her shoulder at Dave as Jason helped her mount the steps.
“Wow, that basement is pretty impressive,” she said once she was back in her chair. “Not a safe place for a teen couple, however,” she whispered.
“I thought the same thing,” Jason said. “We might drag our feet finishing it a little bit until Albie is safely in Michigan.”
They laughed, parents sharing a moment, a rare event lately.
“You seem like you feel better right this minute,” Jason said, carefully choosing words.
“I do,” she said. “But it’s fake, you know? A few minutes, maybe hours of awareness, to see the kids and hear about their lives is just a tease. I’ve been wishing lately that I hadn’t made the goal to see Angie graduate so public. I’m ready to die.”
Like he’d been slapped, guilt flooded Jason. He was ready for it, too. Ready to be done with having a cancer victim for a wife, wanting her to be the way she used to be, or to be at peace. The toll Harley’s situation was taking on the family was grueling. And the awfulness he felt, so callous, was mind-blowing.
But he wasn’t always so heartless. Most of the time, he was despondent thinking of losing her, on his knees crying out to God, going to Mass and lighting candles, begging God to keep her alive. And then he’d hear her labored breathing at night, or go into the treatment room with her at the hospital to watch while the doctor stuck a large bore needle into her belly draining thousands of cc’s of yellowish fluid.
She was always better afterward, but the frequency with which it needed to be done was increasing, draining important nutrients off as well. And the day before, Thursday night, Maryanne told him she could tell by Harley’s pee that her bilirubin was increasing and it wouldn’t be long before jaundice set in.
“What do you think? What’s your nursing assessment?” He asked with desperation. “You worked with all of those sick, old people. How much longer can she hold on?”
“She’s waiting for Angie’s graduation,” Maryanne said. “She’s perseverating about it, even when she’s with it.”
Jason had tried to keep the girls away from her when she did it, repeating over and over, moaning almost, I have to see Angie graduate, please God, I have to see her graduation.
“How much longer can it go on?”
But Maryanne shook her head, not wanting to be responsible for hastening her daughter’s death, but knowing the toll it was taking on both her body and her family might be irreparable.
“I am ready to tell her to let it go,” Jason said. “But I’m afraid of hurting her feelings.”
“Can’t we stage a graduation?” Maryanne asked.
Jason looked off, contemplating it. It wouldn’t take much to pull off; the family gathered around, a cap and gown, a diploma framed.
“Oh, I just thought of something; the prom. She is as excited about the girls’ proms as if she were going herself.”
“Why can’t they go through the motions of the prom, too? We can tell her we’re having a dress rehearsal for her, and then if she lasts until the real thing, she won’t think we were trying to pull a fast one over her.”
Maryanne put her hand on Jason’s shoulder. “She’s not going to last until Easter, Jason, let alone until June.”
Chapter 23
The plan was made. They told Harley about the dress rehearsal and she was happy they were going to do it for her. “I know I don’t have much longer, but I have to hope to last, don’t I? I can’t just give up.”
“I don’t want you to give up, Harley,” Jason said, embracing her. “I just want you to relax.”
The girls were wonderful. Tina spent the next weekend finishing the dresses, doing all the hand sewing sitting next to Harley. “Mom, tell me again the story about when you were thirteen,” Tina said, pulling the needle through the hem of Angie’s dress.
“When I was thirteen my mom taught me to use her sewing machine, didn’t you Mom?” she asked Maryanne.
“I did. It was my mother’s machine. Do you remember what it looked like?” Harley closed her eyes for a minute, remembering being a young girl and needing a dress, walking along the highway into town and buying a simple pattern, three yards of inexpensive cotton fabric, and thread to match.
“The machine was black and had gold lettering,” Harley said, seeing the machine in her mind’s eye. “I remember how proud I was that I could figure out the bobbin. I think Daddy helped me cut the dress pieces out. My dad was home with us a lot.”
“I remember feeling so sorry for him because he was in so much pain,” Harley said. “No offense Mom, but I never wanted that for my girls. And look what I gave them instead.”
Mortified, Tina leaned against her mother and started to cry, the parallel between having the war wounded father and a mother dying of breast cancer jarring and raw.
“Life just happens,” Maryanne said, patting Tina’s back. “It’s out of our control. The best thing we can do is roll with the punches. Just like you girls are doing. I neve
r saw such a bunch of wonderful kids, unless it was my own girls.”
“Were we wonderful, Mom?” Harley whispered, her head was against the recliner back, and in that position, her bone structure was dominant, cheeks sunken, and Maryanne could barely stand looking at her it was so terribly sad.
“Oh, my yes,” she said, holding her sorrow inside. “Your father and I used to congratulate ourselves on what great children we had. There just weren’t enough adjectives to describe how great you were. I know that sounds like a bunch of garbage, but I am sincere. You all worked hard, no one gave us a minute’s trouble.”
“My girls are the same,” Harley said. “My Bennie and Angie, and of course, my Tina.” Pulling her closely with what little strength she had, Harley suddenly knew she was at the end.
“Mom, ask Jason to come in,” she said.
Maryanne left the room while Tina stayed next to Harley with her arms around her.
“What’s up?” he asked, crouching down, noticing Tina’s swollen face and Maryanne’s grief-stricken countenance.
“You don’t need to go to the trouble of the rehearsal, Jay. I’m ready to go.”
He took her hands in his, ignoring her last words, not acknowledging what she had just admitted because it was too surreal and he was in denial. “Don’t say that. Because it’s no trouble at all, and you still have the chance of seeing the real thing.”
“No, I don’t think so. I’m too tired, anyway. Thanks Jason, I appreciate it. I want to see the others, too. Even Devon.”
Jason stood up and signaled for Maryanne to follow him to the kitchen. “Do you think she’s on to something or is this delusional?”
“I think she knows her own body,” Maryanne said. “It won’t hurt anything if she wants to say goodbye now.”
Shrugging his shoulders, he walked to the back of the house to get the others.
“Can I get you anything, dear?” Maryanne asked, knowing she was hovering, wanting to run.
“Just sit down, Mom,” Harley answered, speaking difficult. “Sit here close to me. I didn’t want to say anything to Jason but I’m having trouble seeing. The light hurts my eyes but it seems dark in here.”
“It is dark out today,” Maryanne said. “I’ll turn a light on over here so it won’t be too bright.”
“No Mom, I think my vision is going. I can still hear but I can hardly see anything,” she said. “I think I’m getting close.”
“Okay, honey,” Maryanne said, sitting close to her. “You would know. What are you feeling?”
“I feel numb, physically. But I’m feeling anxious, scared about the girls again. It’s persistent. No matter what I tell myself, I’m worried Jason won’t be able to handle it alone.”
“Will it help you to know I’ve told him I’ll move in here permanently?”
Harley grasped her hand. “Really Mom? That makes me feel so much better.”
“I won’t leave until they ask me to. Between Fran and me, I think everything will be okay, except they’ll miss you terribly.”
Harley put her head back again and closed her eyes, a hint of a smile. Soon Jason returned with the girls, all in tears after telling them his fears. He was carrying Devon.
“I explained that Mommy wanted to see them and that she is ready to go,” he said, the last words blubbering as he lost control. “Oh, I’m so sorry girls.”
“It’s okay,” Harley said, opening her eyes. “We’re all sad. But I need to say goodbye to you now while I still can. Sometimes when you’re sick, it’s almost too difficult to speak and right now I feel strong enough. Come here, Devi.”
Reaching out for her, Devon crawled up on Tina’s lap, snuggling next to Harley. “My mom just told me that my sisters and I were wonderful. You used the word great, didn’t you Mom?
“It means so much to me to know what my mother and dad thought of me, and I want to tell you how wonderful I think you all are. Daddy knows where my notebooks are. There’s one for each of you. I’ve been writing to you since the day…since I found out I might not always be with you. I’m lucky because I had all of this time. These past few years have been the best of my life, watching you. I haven’t had to worry about taking it for granted, either. You’ve been so wonderful. Like my mom says, you’re all great.
“I love you so much. Thank you for being my girls. Jason, thank you for giving me four great girls.”
After her little speech, more words than she’d spoken in weeks, Harley’s head felt like she couldn’t keep it up anymore, like her neck was about to give out. “I have to put my head back now, but if you want to say anything to me feel free. I don’t think I’m going anywhere right away, so we can visit until we need to sleep.”
Keeping her deepest fears inside, Harley had given up control of her house and family the weekend her mother moved in with them. It was taking so much effort to make sure everything was the way she liked it, letting her mother and Jason take over was freeing.
One Friday night a few weeks before, she’d slid out of bed; holding on to the walls as she crept through the house while everyone else was fast asleep. She saw the mess in the family room, the pizza boxes and paper plates, soda bottles everywhere, but it didn’t make her feel negative at all. Instead, she saw her children sleeping every which way; an unfamiliar body that she later discovered was one of Bea and Dave’s girls there for the night. Maybe it was the fact that they’d brought the child over to the house and didn’t come in to see her that took precedence over the pizza mess.
The anger that invoked was a panacea to the pain of having to leave her family forever. Focusing on anger at Bea and Dave was a good substitute for heartbreak. “I thought they’d asked for forgiveness?” Fran asked Jason.
“Too little, too late,” Jason said. “She’s very sad, don’t get me wrong. She hoped Bea would be there for our girls.”
“She still might be,” Fran said. “It’s not over yet.”
“I’m not sure I want them around,” Jason said. “All this over something so stupid.”
“Well, you didn’t hear it from me, but I think Dave is going to move out,” Fran said, saddened.
“Oh no, I’m sorry to hear it. It’s not news Harley needs, either.”
Not having Harley to confide in as her marriage crumbled was horrible for Bea. At first, they blamed their troubles on Dave’s jealousy of his brother, the potential he had to be free after Harley died, to date again; selfish, perverse, but he thought he was being honest. But the truth is he didn’t love his wife because he didn’t love himself, and was so self-absorbed that leaving his marriage was the only alternative. With Harley gone, Bea’s absence from their family gatherings wouldn’t be so noticeable.
That first weekend in March, after their walk on the beach, thoughts of Harley haunted Bea all day. Everything she did reminded her of something they’d done together or plans they’d made. The simple act of putting short ribs in the crockpot pushed her over the edge, and she broke down crying, trying to remember Harley’s trick for skimming the fat off. Reaching for the telephone, she would swallow her pride and call Fran, who invariably admonished her for allowing the situation to deescalate.
“We’re on our way over there now,” Fran said. “Jason just called and said the end is near and Harley wants to say goodbye to us.”
At that, Fran broke down again. “I’m so sad; I can’t imagine what Maryanne is feeling! And the girls, oh my God. Poor Devi.”
Bea cried, listening to Fran talk, her anguish over having to see her son suffering, too, losing his wife at such a young age. “I better hang up. Pop is waiting for me.”
“Give everyone my love,” Bea said, sniffing.
“I will not,” Fran shouted out. “You and Dave better get over there as fast as you can and tell them yourself, and make amends while you’re at it. Trust me; you’ll be haunted by this for the rest of your life if you don’t act now while she’s still alive.”
“Okay,” Bea sobbed. “I’ll think about it. Maybe I’ll ca
ll Jason and ask him if it’s okay.”
“You do that,” Fran replied, defeated. Dave leaving his family was another blow she was ill-prepared to face. “I’m hanging up now.”
Joe was waiting in the car for her, a grim look on his face. “What’s the hold up?” he asked.
“Our daughter-in-laws are getting on my nerves,” she answered.
Shaking his head in exasperation, Joe was afraid if he approached Dave about his behavior there would be no holding back. “Where the hell did I fail?”
“Times like this always bring out the worst in everyone. Dave and Bea would have gotten a divorce eventually. It doesn’t have anything to do with Jason and Harley. If Dave wants to place the blame on them, he’s doing it to cover his own inadequacies.”
“Very good, Mother,” Joe said, glancing at her with admiration.
“Don’t get too excited, dear. I read it somewhere.”
“In the plan for my life, having divorced kids was never a consideration. I wanted our boys and their families to take over the cottage when we died like we did when my mother died.”
“Divorce? What about Harley? She’s so young. It’s my worst nightmare.”
“We’ll probably have to get used to new women,” Joe said, disgusted. “Bea and Harley were like sisters.”
“Yeah, well that’s over with,” Fran said. “They’re both stubborn. It’ll be so sad if Bea doesn’t stop with the pride and make peace with Harley.”
After talking to Fran, Bea wandered around the house, thinking about what she’d been told. Harley was dying. All those years and months of planning for her family after she died was coming to pass. In spite of their differences, Bea had been an important ally to Harley. She’d never betrayed her, unlike Dave who obviously couldn’t be trusted.
Hating to have to approach Dave about Harley, going over to their house without him would be looked upon by the family as disrespect. They would have to present a unified front until the final divorce papers were signed.
A Touch of Passion (boxed set romance bundle) Page 108