"Oh, well, you want to pull a chair up?"
"No, I'll just sit at the table across. Come on, Monica, let's get us a muffin," he said taking her out of the stroller.
"Yeah," she squealed with excitement and ran to the counter. Tammy then looked at me, and there was a smirk on her face. Drake's face was white. I was a jumble of nerves. One—Michael never took his daughter for walks. Two—he was only here to claim me in front of Drake. I liked it…and sort of didn't.
We went back to our studies, and Michael sat across from us helping Monica with her muffin. He then leaned back in the chair, arms folded and stared at Drake with a wicked grin. There was no doubt Drake or I weren't comprehending any of the studying. Michael knew what he was doing, and he was doing it well.
We would only last another thirty minutes when Tammy said we should call it quits for the night. I was thankful—as was Drake. As we gathered our books, Michael stood and walked casually over and placed his hands down on the table. His face was inches from Drake's and said, "You ever come near my wife again, I will kill you. You understand?"
"Michael! Stop it," I hissed.
He turned to me, and the look in his eyes was cold. "I'm defending what's mine," he said. My heart jumped, and I was scared and turned on at the same time. And…embarrassed.
"Yes, Michael, I get it. But not here."
"Especially here," he said and kissed me hard in front of the group. It pissed me off, but part of me liked his claim on me.
Everyone scurried around the table, gathering their books and quickly walked out. I looked up to Michael and peered into his eyes. "I think I took care of him," he said, and I couldn't help but smirk.
"I guess you did. Now, grab your daughter and clean the icing off her face and hands."
He winked, and I felt the old Michael back with me. But how long would I have him?
Now
We help Tammy down the sandy trail, carrying her IV and set up to watch tonight's sunset. Ryan and the girls are all gathered, and it's a beautiful evening. It's Monday, and we've had three more days to have Tammy with us. Sadly, her health has declined dramatically since our arrival.
I wrap her in a blanket to protect her from the chilly wind coming off the lake. She's nothing but skin and bones now. Ryan sits next to her in the sand and holds her in his arms. The girls also sit by her side, and we all search for something to say. You can only say how beautiful the sun is a number of times before it starts to sound like an insult to the one person who has so few left.
"Come on everyone, speak up," Tammy jokes. The girls are so strong, but I know it's tough. The last few days, she has become so much closer to them. And it hurts to know they won't have her much longer.
"Are you warm enough, Tammy?" I ask.
"Yes." Ryan pulls her close and rubs his hands up and down her blanket-covered arms. Casey holds her mother's hand and gently smooths her fingers along her pale skin. Callie massages her feet and asks if it feels good. "Yes, it does, Callie. It feels so good."
"Mommy, you want me to massage something?" little Hailee asks.
"I think all my parts are covered at the moment. But can you do me a favor?" Hailee nods her head. "Show me all the things you've learned in gymnastics. Can you do them here in the sand?"
"Yes, I can do that, Mommy."
"All right," I say as Hailee gets up and sprints through the sand. We clap as she completes three backflips in a row and lands perfectly on her feet.
"Awesome, baby girl," Tammy says in a weak voice, and the girls help to cheer her on.
Hailee gives us an outstanding performance—walking on her hands, falling gracefully into a backbend and then takes off down the beach flipping her athletic body into several more backflips.
"Gosh, she so good," I tell Tammy. "How long has she been competing?"
"I think we started her when she was…" She looks up at Ryan, "Two?"
"Yep. We couldn't keep her in her baby bed, and she scared us with all her jumping and climbing." Ryan then kisses Tammy softly on the lips.
"Well, she is absolutely amazing. Monica took gymnastics for a little while. But she was never that good." It feels like a breath of fresh air to have something so simple and ordinary to talk about.
Hailee comes flipping back, and we all laugh and cover our faces as sands whips through the air. "How was that, Mommy?"
"That was amazing. I could watch you all day, Hailee," Tammy tells her and then reaches for her hand. "Come here." Hailee plops down in the sand and smiles at her mother. "Don't you ever stop. You're going to be a star."
"You think so?"
"I know so." Tammy hugs Hailee into her chest, and the girls continue to rub Tammy's hands and feet. "Oh, girls. I love you all so much." The tears come, and there's no stopping them. But somehow, they're comforting. Like little off a little pressure to accommodate the pain.
"Look, there it goes," Ryan says as the sun begins to slip into the water. Will this be her last sunset? "Pssst." Ryan makes a sizzling sound as the sun sinks deeper.
We all sit in silence as the sun slowly disappears, ending another day. I reach over and rub Tammy's shoulder. "You still warm enough?"
"Yes." She smiles at me and her eyes have a look of peace in them. "You know what I want to do now?"
"I sure do."
"I want us all to have a slumber party in the living room. You think we can all do that?"
"I think it's a great idea," I say.
"I want to sleep with Mommy," Hailee says.
"I think we'll all sleep with Mommy." I pull Hailee into my lap and squeeze her tightly. "I can believe how fast you've grown. I remember the day you were born."
"Me too," Tammy says, reaching over and pinching her cheek.
We make our back to the cottage and find every blanket, sleeping bag and pillow that we can and arrange them all together. I pull the cushions off the couch and make a soft bed for Tammy. Ryan helps her to lay down, and I can tell her pain is back and needs more morphine. She eyes Ryan, suggesting he find an excuse to grab the girl's attention. She doesn't like them to watch when she needs more.
"Hey girls, did you bring the s’more stuff?"
"Yeah, Dad. It's in one of the boxes."
"Oh, s’mores. Girls, will you make me one?"
"I will," yells Hailee.
"Come on, girls. Grab the box and let's go out on the patio."
Tammy squeezes Ryan's hand, and when they all are outside, she looks at me. "Shoot me up." I unzip the bag with the regulated vials from hospice and fill the needed CC's to subside her pain.
"Better?"
"Not yet. It seems to be taking longer now. Thanks, Jill." I quickly discard the empty vial back into the bag and then stash it in my suitcase. The girls come running in with a plateful of s’mores. "Ooo, just want I need," Tammy says, picking one up and licking the oozing marshmallow. I can tell the morphine is kicking in.
"Ah, perfect," I say and stuff my mouth full.
We cuddle in, and Ryan runs through the menu on Netflix. "What do girls feel like watching?"
"Stranger Things," Hailee says with a mouthful of s’mores and crumbs fly out of her mouth.
"Sound good, girls?" Ryan asks the other two.
"Sure," Callie says, and Casey shrugs her shoulders.
"Okay, Stranger Things it is." He starts the program and snuggles down next to his wife. I'm on her other side, and all three girls crowd around our feet. I watch Tammy and see the love that surrounds her. She squeezes my hand and then mouths ‘thank you' to me.
"You're welcome," I whisper back.
The backlight of the TV illuminates the room, and we're six episodes in. Hailee has fallen asleep, and Casey and Callie play on their phones. Ryan is now on his sixth cup of coffee. Afraid of falling asleep, Tammy and I keep the night alive reminiscing of our past.
"Remember when your mom used to babysit me?" She coughs and it's a struggle for her to continue.
"Take your time," I say and rub her hand.
>
"Remember the attic? Your mom was so creative—how she made it look like the Grand Ole Opry."
"We played up there for hours. It was the perfect playroom. Monica used to play up there too. You know, I think we were the kids in the attic long before that book. What was it?"
"Flowers in the Attic."
"Yes. I loved that book." I quietly laugh. "Maybe Mom fixed the attic up to keep us out of her hair."
"Oh, …it was the perfect place. I never forgot about that attic. Even as we grew older, we still loved to stay in there." Tammy says. There's joy in her voice, and it gives me comfort.
"I think we have some cigarettes still stashed up there. And remember when we stole Scott’s Playboys and would look at them?"
She takes a deep breath and laughs. "Oh my, God. Why would we do that? We were girls."
"Yeah, but we were still curious."
I think about that room in my childhood house. A place where we played, told secrets, hid secrets, cried, laughed and grew up in. Even today, it holds magic from the past. And when Michael first left me, I cried up there for a week. It some ways, the room grew up with us, and there was nothing we couldn't solve in that room. The place is a time capsule, filled with toys, teen treasures, things outgrown and things waiting to be used again.
"You know, I think Heaven will be like that room," Tammy whispers, not wanting the girls to overhear. "And…I'm okay with that. That's how I have it pictured."
My eyes well up and my chin quivers. "Yeah? I think you're right," my voice squeaks.
"Can you believe we never got caught doing the stay-over game? Every morning when I got home, I just knew this was it—we'd been found out," she says.
"Oh, I know. I wonder how many times Monica played that game on me." She squeezes my hand like she knows something. And I'm sure she does.
As I look at her through my teary eyes, I can't believe this is it. This is all there is for her. Yes, she's had a great life, but why does it have to end so early? I rub her cheek, and with my thumb, wipe the tear running down. She knows. She knows the end is near, and all I can do is keep her comfortable.
"How's the pain," I whisper. Ryan rubs her arms.
"I'm as comfortable as I can get. I want to stay sober for as long as I can. Please, no more morphine," she whispers.
"Tammy, if you need more and need to rest, please let me know."
Her eyes slowly move to the corner of one side as she looks at me. I know that sad, painful look. She knows, once her eyes close, this is it. Oh, God. Should I keep her talking? Keep her alert? Or, let her pass on in peace. Peace knowing we're all here. Then something strikes me. It's not up to me. I have no more power over her than I did Michael. This is up to her. Up to God. Not that I'm happy about it. And for once, I wish I had all the control. I would keep her here with me forever. I would be stuck to her side, so much that she'd be sick of me. But I wouldn't care. I might not have control over her or when she goes, but I do have control over myself. And I will keep her talking.
"Do you remember the time we had that party at your parent's house when they left for the weekend?" Her lips form a smile—weak, but it's there. She knows that night. "We hid all the cars behind the barn so that when your brother drove by to check on us, it would look as if no one was there." Tammy's brother was older and married and lived just a few miles out of town. "If it wasn't for that damn plane taking aerial shots." Her chest heaves with a laugh.
"It was the perfect plan," she strains.
"I think your parents bought that portrait just to haunt us." Two weeks after we thought we had gotten away with the party, a salesman should up with aerial portraits of their property. We were busted. There, plain as day, were the six cars parked behind the barn. "Your dad tried so hard to find out whose cars they were," I laugh.
"He wrote down every make and model and carried it with him everywhere. Every time he came upon a car that matched the description, he would literally drag the driver out of the car," Tammy says softly.
"I think once the story got out, all those guys sold their cars."
"All but Ryan," I say.
She turns to look Ryan in the face. He cups her cheeks and says, "I wasn't afraid of your dad. I knew someday I would marry you." They look at each other, lost in the silence and holding onto this moment. And then, he kisses her softly on her dry, chapped lips. How utterly awful to know this could be your last kiss, your last gaze into your loved one's eyes, your last expressions of love for each other. Maybe it's best to be alone; alone like me. I won't have to look into someone's eyes and know it’s the last time. Or vice versa. No regrets of leaving them behind or being left behind. Is it better?
"Jill, remember that time we told your parents we were going to the hayride?"
"Oh…yes. My first kiss."
"That's all we talked about in the attic that night. How you broke it down, piece by piece until the tongues touched." She struggles to laugh. But she is laughing. At death's door—she is laughing. "Oh my, God. After that, you were the expert of French kissing and walked with merit. I was afraid you were going to do a term paper on you and Tommy Sommers, on how to properly French kiss."
"Oh, God, it seems like a million years ago," I say. Yet, time hasn't been long enough. Long enough for her. I look up at Ryan. "I remember the day you called and told me Ryan asked you to the homecoming dance." He smiles. "You were afraid I would be upset."
She turns to Ryan again. I want this moment to last forever for them. And somehow, it will. It will be one of their last memories they both share. "Well, I'm sure you would have if it weren't for Michael asking you to go."
"Pssst, please," I tease. "We all know what that was about." Although, after all these years, I don't. I don't think I will ever understand Michael. Looking down at his ring, I remind myself to give it back. I know it's wrong, but for just a short time, it feels good to have actually had an engagement ring. But I don't want to think about Michael and me.
She grabs my hand and brings it to her dry lips. As she looks at me with tired, half-closed eyes, she kisses my hand with the ring. She knows what she's doing. Her fingers brush over the ring, and she says, "Promise me you'll marry Michael."
I don't know what to say. I can't say no and feel I am betraying her dying wish. I can't say yes, because I can't marry Michael. I just can't.
I brush her hair and kiss her forehead. "I only want to think about you and us and Ryan. Michael is not invited to this party." She gives a weak smile and her eyes close as she coughs. Ryan reaches for her water and helps her take a sip.
"Party," she mocks. Lucky him. Who in the hell invited me here," she laughs, and her coughing returns.
"You're incorrigible, you know that? You need to concentrate on you. Not me."
"Why? What's the fun in that? My time is done. Kaput. No mas."
"Will you stop?"
"I will…I promise. Soon there will be no more words coming from my mouth. So, until then, I will just keep saying it. Marry Michael."
"I love you," I say and press my lips on her forehead. She squeezes my hand, and her eyes close. I look at Ryan, and although we are expecting it, our eyes capture that fear in each other. I check her pulse. "She's just resting," I whisper. I watch her chest slowly move up and down. I look at the girls, hoping they are engrossed on their phones or anything but this moment. But they're not. All three sit at the end of our makeshift bed on the floor, staring at me with glassy, scared eyes. Should they be seeing this? "Girls, it's up to you…if you want to leave the room. I'm here, and I will not leave her side. Neither will your father." They all three shake their heads, holding each other tightly. "Okay. Just know, she's in no pain. She is at peace…and she knows you are here. She can hear you. So, if there's anything you want to say, you can say it."
"I love you, Mom," Casey says, choking out the words. Followed by Callie and Hailee.
I feel Tammy squeeze my hand and I smile up at the girls. "She heard you. She says she loves you too."
&nb
sp; We all cuddle together, each of us touching Tammy and lay our heads as if we could just go to sleep. I listen to Tammy breathe. Each breath farther and farther apart…until…no more. I know she is now gone. But I want to keep this from the girls, if only for a little more time. Let them believe she is still with us.
I touch Ryan's shoulder and sadly nod. When he breaks out in a full cry, the girls know.
I have to be strong. I have to be there for them. There are no words I can say to them. Nothing can take away this pain. All I can do is cry with them. And that's what we do. We hold each other. We hold Tammy…and we cry.
Then
Christmas season had just begun, and Michael's company was hosting their annual Christmas party. I was surprised he had asked me to go, because, for the last two years, he had gone by himself, telling me it was all business geared and that I wouldn't enjoy it. This year, he told me to buy a nice dress and asked if Mom or Tammy could watch Monica. Ever since the Drake incident, he had become more attentive toward me. I was now finished with school and starting my internship at the hospital. Michael didn't like the fact that I worked three twelve-hour night shifts. Which meant he had to pick Monica up from daycare, and a few times, have dinner ready when I walked through the door at 7:30. Things I felt were moving in a positive direction for our marriage and as a family. I was now contributing to the household income, and Michael showed a bit more respect toward me.
Tammy and I were shopping at the mall, like we had in the old days, as teens. Now, here we were, married and employed. And to tell you the truth, I couldn't believe Michael and I were still together after three years. Maybe we had defeated the odds.
I wanted a dress that spoke, classy, elegant—that little black dress. I found exactly what I was looking for—short, sassy, yet sexy. It had a scalloped hem that was mid-thigh, tight waist to show off my slender curves and snug in the bust. It was perfect.
"Damn! You sure this is a Christmas party?" Tammy stated as I swung around stepping out of the fitting room.
Love, Michael: A second chance romance Page 24