"I was looking at the tree."
"Michael, you're being weird. Why didn't you just come in through the front door?"
"I was afraid."
"Afraid of what?" He was confusing me.
"That the locks had been changed, and I wouldn't be welcome."
I didn't know what to say and wanted to enjoy the silence between us in the rain. It said more about his feelings than he could ever say himself. Was he going to say he was sorry? "It's your house too. But I did want to talk to you. I left a message on your work voicemail."
"I know. I called in and listened."
"Why didn't you call the house then?" I wanted to ask where he was staying but didn't want to ruin whatever this moment was.
"I was afraid maybe you changed the number." He handed me a folded piece of paper. It had become wet from the rain, and I told him to come inside. The paper was still in my hands, and even though Tammy and I talked about me divorcing Michael, I feared he already had filed, and this was the paper telling me so. As I unfolded it, I prepared myself for what it was and was willing to accept it. At least someone had started the preceding.
I looked at the wet paper and saw the heading: Menard’s. I looked back up at Michael. "What's this?"
"Read it," he said.
Through the wet paper, I could make out terms like 2x4 treated and buckles. "I still don't understand."
"Sorry, it's late. It's Monica's birthday present. It's the lumber to make her tree house. They'll be delivering it tomorrow. I wanted you to know."
"Michael…I don't know what to say."
"I want to start building it. Can I come home?"
I looked at him in shock. It was the last thing I ever expected. Would this be the turning point for us, and we would be together forever? This would be the one thing we would look back on and maybe laugh about someday. Tell others struggling in their marriage to hold on and work it out? As much as I wanted it to be, I thought about the pictures he destroyed.
"Michael, I don't know. It really hurt when you destroyed our pictures. Those are moments we'll never get back."
"I know, and I'm so sorry. Can we have new ones made?"
"I'm not sure. The studio's not even in town anymore. I don't know how I could contact them." Beth was long gone to a college out of state. And even if I could get a hold of her, she had no proofs of Monica. "Why did you do it, Michael?"
"I don't know. I regret it. I was angry and wanted to hurt you."
"Why? Why do you want to hurt me? I don't understand."
"I don't mean to." He took a deep breath. "This isn't going to come out right. It makes me mad that I can't walk away from you and Monica."
"I really don't know how to take that," I said and tried to see good in it.
"I never saw myself as the family type. I saw one thing. Me, success, and freedom. I'm still trying to figure out where to put you and Monica."
My arms hugged around me as I listened to his declaration of his true feelings. It hurt me that he couldn't find a place for us in his heart, yet he was honest with me. I thought I should do the same.
"Michael, I never saw us married either. Yes, in my stupid, girly fantasies. But now that it's real, I can't imagine life any different. And…I wished I did. I wished I could stop loving you. I wish the things you did didn't hurt me so much. I wish I never meant you—not so much for myself. But so that you wouldn't hate me."
"Jill, I don't hate you. I hate that I do love you. But, I don't know how to show it. All I do is fight it, and I know it isn't fair to you."
"You love me?"
He stared at me incredulously. "Yes, Jill."
I began to cry. "You want to come home?"
"Yes. I want to try."
"Michael…" He took me in his arms, and I cried in his chest. "What kind of marriage is this if we wished we didn't love each other?"
He picked me up, and my legs wrapped his waist. "You're a good wife, Jill. I'm just not a good husband. And I don't know if I'll ever be." He carried me to the bedroom, and we kissed as we took off the wet clothes. "I missed you," he said, picking me up again and laid me on the bed.
Even though I wasn't sure if I did, I said it too. "I missed you too, Michael."
As he made love to me, he repeated how much he didn't deserve me, and I knew it to be true. He told me again what a wonderful wife and mother I was, and even though marriage was never in his plans, he couldn't have picked a better wife.
I accepted Michael's apology and his passionate lovemaking. I was still torn between his hatred of loving us and his willingness to try. But as time went on, the word try would become a lousy taste in my mouth. Because to love Monica and me was simple. To love Michael would become a challenge.
Now
My cell rings and I see Ryan's name displayed. Panic rises from head to toe. Tammy is getting worse, and I've already scheduled a leave from the hospital. Each day I hate waking up, knowing it's one less day she has left. I take a deep breath and wait to hear that I'm too late and that she passed in the night.
"Ryan…"
"Hi, Jill. She had a better night last night. She's asking for you."
"Of course. I'll be right over. Please tell her I'm on my way."
"I will. There's something she wants to ask you."
"Oh? Well, give me about twenty minutes. I'll hurry. Goodbye."
"Bye, Jill."
I end the call and rush to get to Tammy, wondering what she wants to ask. She knows I'll do anything. She knows I'll help with the girls. I am their godmother, and I'll always be there when they need me.
Ryan's standing on the porch when I pull in the drive. He looks very concerned, and once again, I fear I missed her. "How is she? Please don't tell me…"
"No, Jill. She's in the living room waiting on you."
I rush in and see her curled up on the couch sipping tea, wearing a pink, fuzzy robe with a pink terry cloth turban. Her face gets paler each time I see her.
"I'm here, Tammy," I say, desperation ringing in my voice.
"Calm down, girl. I'm not going anywhere…not yet anyway." How she stays so positive is beyond me. I sometimes wonder, if once you know it's your time to die, is it more acceptable? "Cancel all your plans this week."
"You got it." I almost ask what she has planned but knowing her say the word dying will come flying out of her mouth.
"We are going to spend the week at my uncle's beach house."
"Yes, whatever you want. Want me to start packing for you?"
"You can. I don't know how much I'll need. At least pick something out you can bury me in."
And there it is. Her ever, it-is-what-it-is philosophy. "Fine then. I'm packing the skimpiest bikini you have." She laughs, and I don't know how.
"Better grab one of the girl's suits. Unlike you, I stopped wearing bikinis after the girls were born. Oh, and when they embalm me, make sure they give me one of those spray tans."
"Alright, that's enough of this talk," I say and run upstairs to pack her a bag. I never asked if the girls and Ryan were coming. So, I busy myself throwing in anything I think she will need and run back downstairs.
"Hey, are the girls and Ryan coming?"
"Yes. Ryan will be bringing them up Friday after school gets out. I would like a few days alone with just us." She sounds serious and…I don't like what she's implying.
"Okay, like I said, whatever you want," I say and kiss her pale cheek. It feels cold, and I want to wrap her in my arms, warming her failing body and never wanting her to leave me. Ahh, this is going to be hard.
Ryan kisses her on the lips and tells her he loves her and says he and the girls will be there soon. "Let me know if I need to bring anything else up when we come. You're sure you want to do this?"
"Yes, it's not like I'm going to be any better. This is as good as it gets," she tells him, and I pad outside, leaving them alone to talk. I put her bag in the car and wait as Ryan helps her out. She's so brave and tough, smacking Ryan away and letting him kno
w she's capable of walking to the car alone. Oh, Tammy. What will I do without you?
She falls down into the seat and demands, "Okay, Thelma, let's hit the road." I giggle and start the car. Ryan expresses his concerns through the open window as Tammy hits the close button, shutting his fingers in the window. She bats her hands for him to leave.
"Now, Tammy, that wasn't very nice of you," I tease.
"Hey, I'm dying. I don't have to be nice. Alright, if it makes you feel better." She rolls down the window. "Ryan, get out and enjoy yourself tonight. I'll see you in a few days." They kiss again and he backs up, placing his hands on his hips this time when I put the car in reverse.
Shifting the gear into drive, she notices the ring on my finger. "Holy Moly! Is that…?"
"Oh. Don't get excited. I'm just trying in on for size before giving it back."
"He asked you to marry him?" She grabs my hand.
"Yes. And said its mine, even if we never marry. Said it's the one I should have had years ago."
"We've got a lot more to talk about. Hope I get an extension from upstairs," she says with her hands in a prayer position. I smile and shake my head.
We stop by my house, and I pack quickly and out the door in record time. If only if was just another girl trip…and not out last.
Her uncle's cottage is five miles up Blue Star Highway, so were there in less than twenty minutes. I tell her to go on inside, and I'll bring in our bags. "I think I can carry one thing, Jill."
"Fine, carry the wine."
"Oh thank, God. I was afraid you wouldn't bring any. And…do not tell Ryan." I make the button-my-lip suggestion and grab the bags.
I haven't been here since the night of Michael's birthday—the night he left and partied with girls on a houseboat. I need these reminders, so I don't do anything stupid and marry him again. But for now, I'll enjoy the ring. Maybe I lose it in the lake.
Walking inside, I'm double reminded. The window seat where I cried all night, waiting for him to come back. The kitchen where I prepared a gourmet birthday dinner—that we never ate. And now, I'm here with Tammy—her last summer here. This will always be a place of bad memories for me.
"Oh, I feel better already," she says. "Being cooped up in the house all day. And Ryan on my ass every minute."
"You know he can't help it."
"I know. I'm grateful to have him. I was going to suggest you two get married after I'm gone. But now that I've seen that ring."
I pick up a pillow and throw it at her. "Will you stop? I'm not marrying Michael, and I could never marry Ryan. No offense, but it'd be like kissing my brother."
"Would it help if you thought of Ryan as the hot step-brother? Those books are trendy."
I pick up another pillow from the couch and toss it at her. "No step-brother. No brother's friend. Think I've had my share. Now, stop this nonsense and let's unpack and head down to the beach. You ready for some wine?"
"Some? I'm ready for the whole damn bottle."
We toss our things in the bedroom and then change for the beach. I make sure she has on plenty of sunblock and grab the beach umbrella leaning against the fence as we walk the down the sandy trail. Once the umbrella is securely anchored in the sand, I unfold the beach chairs lying on the ground and pour her a glass of wine.
"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you," she says. After my glass is poured, I sit next to her and watch her enjoy this moment in time—with so little time left. "It's so amazing, isn't it?" she says, holding her glass out to the lake.
"Yes, it is." Sipping my wine, I wonder what is going through her mind. "How are the girls doing?" This does make her start to cry. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."
"No. You should. It needs to be discussed. Casey's mad at me. Callie is in denial, and Hailee I think doesn't quite understand. Casey thinks I've given up and I don't want to be around."
"Have you talked to her? I can if you want me to."
"Yes, I have. But I think it's the only way she can cope. And…maybe it's better that way. Anger is easier to deal with than sadness. Especially loss."
I search my stupid brain for any kind of response. "Tammy, I don't know what to say or what you want me to say. But I promise you I will always be there for the girls."
"Oh, Jill. I know you will. And I'm sorry to have to put you in this situation. It's not fair."
"None of it's fair. It pisses me off so fucking much and I…" She starts to laugh. "What? Why are you laughing?"
"Because you so sound just like Casey. She uses my dying as an excuse to swear."
"Well…"
"I get it. It makes you feel better. It's strange, isn't it? How swearing out loud relieves tension. Let's yell it at the top of our lungs, so loud they'll hear us Wisconsin."
"Sounds good to me," I say. "I'll start. Fuck you, cancer! Why don't you go find some piece of shit's life to take!" Tammy laughs as wine comes spraying from her mouth. "That felt good. Your turn."
"Fuck you, cancer and the cancer cells you rode in on." She laughs and gulps a large portion of wine.
"Yeah," I yell. "Fuck you, cancer-clopping horse."
"Cancer-clopping horse," Tammy says, laughing hard from her belly. "Oh, God. This is good. I haven't felt this great since…well, since I got cancer."
"Cancer's going to be sorry someday." I stand and yell out over the lake. "Just wait. She'll come back in another life and be the doctor who cures cancer. She'll look you in the face and know who you are." I pick up a handful and sand and throw it hard. "Fuck you. Your paths are going to cross in a lab someday, and you're going to go down." I fall to my knees and punch the sand. Somewhere between the swearing and yelling, I begin crying uncontrollably.
"Jill…Jill." Tammy drops to her knees beside me and holds my shaking body.
"Tammy, I'm sorry. It should be me holding you."
"Yeah, well whatever," she carelessly says. She cleans my face and gives me a reassuring a smile. "A doctor? Thanks, but I plan on coming back as Marylin Monroe and watch the Kennedy's squirm. I'd be bored in a lab."
"What…?" I look at her incredulously, and we both began to laugh.
"Whew. That was great. I should have done that instead of chemo," she says, pulling my arm and directing us back to our chairs. "I think we're going to need more wine."
I sit back in my chair and look at her. You're unbelievable, you know that?"
"I know," she says and toasts my glass. "Okay, no more talking about me. I'm dying, blah, blah, blah—you'll help Ryan with the girls. The end is near, so there's nothing left. You," she stresses, "have plenty of time and I want to know what you're going to do."
"What I'm going to do?"
"Spill it, Jill. I'm dying, remember? Not much time left. Talk."
"About what?"
"Where and when are you going to marry Michael?" I choke on wine.
"Ah…I'm not." She waves her glass to the ring on my finger, sparkling in the sun. "I'm just wearing it for a while. Soon I let him down and send him on his way crying. Hopefully before the old Michael shows up."
"I think you need to marry him here on this beach. I’ll get it all arranged with my uncle before I die."
"Tammy, are you listening to me?"
"No. It has to be soon. Before summer's over. Beach weddings on Lake Michigan don't go over well in the winter." She continues planning my wedding with Michael as I laugh and drink more wine. I love her.
The sun begins to set, and I run up to the cottage, grabbing another bottle of wine. When I return to the beach, she tells me she wants to walk the coastline. "Are you sure? You're not too tired?"
"I'm always tired. It's probably the last time I get to do this. Come on." I refill our glasses, and we set out down the coast. Not sure how far we'll get. My arm wraps around her for support, and we giggle when passing other walkers and lovers who have come to watch the sunset. I'm sure they consider us to be a couple and Tammy doesn't help matters when she loudly talks about our wedding. The wedding she's plann
ing for Michael and me.
"There it goes," she says. We stop and watch as the sun slowly sinks into the lake. A tear runs down my cheek. Because it's an end to another day, and one less day I'll ever have with her.
Adding morphine to her drip, I hear Ryan and the girls enter the cottage. Tammy did her best not to have any the last two days. She wanted to be alert. But eventually, the pain became too much. She says only to give her half, and so I do. Her IV is portable, and she hates for the girls to see her wearing it. I tell her it can't be helped.
"Hey, my pretty girls," she says when they all three come to hug her on the couch. Casey shows some reserve, allowing her younger siblings to hug their mom first. "Hi, Casey. Come here and give me a hug." The moment is emotional and my eyes well up. Casey sits next to her mother and the two start to cry.
"Come on girls," I say to Callie and Hailee. "Let's put your stuff away and give your sister some time." With both girls wrapped on each arm, we climb the stairs to the room they'll be staying in. As they unpack, I take a seat on the bed and ask both girls to join me. I struggle to get my words out. "I want you to know that I will always be here for you. I will never be able to take your mother's place. But that doesn't mean you can't come to me for anything. Anything you can't go to your dad about."
"How much time does she have left?" Callie says, considerable tears in her eyes. I wipe her face as they begin to fall.
"You know, let's not focus on that and enjoy this time together with her. She's brave. So, we need to be brave with her. That is how she wants it to be. Okay?"
Hailee starts to cry and snuggles into my chest. "I don't want Mommy to die." I hold her tightly and smooth her hair.
"Oh, baby. None of us do. And…it's okay to cry." Callie leans in too, and I comfort both girls as we all three cry together. Casey walks in. I look up at her torn face.
"Mom doesn't want us to cry," she says.
"Jill said we could," Hallie tells her big sister. Casey looks at me with daggers in her eyes. She's going to the hard one. I just hope she lets me in when the time comes.
"Okay girls, let's have our cry and go down and had the best day we can have with your mom. She's been looking forward to you girls coming." The two younger girls wipe their faces and nod. We get up to leave, and I tell them to go on so I can talk to Casey. They leave, and I shut the door behind them. "Casey, I know it's hard, and it's so unfair. I know you're angry…and it's okay to be angry. I want you to know that I'm angry too. Last night, I yelled every curse word imaginable across the lake." She stands next to the bed, holding herself tightly. I walk over and touch her shoulder. "You want to curse with me tonight? I'm giving you a one-time pass."
Love, Michael: A second chance romance Page 22