by Jewel E. Ann
We escaped to Chicago for a long weekend since Mac and Evan were in Paris. After grocery shopping, we boarded The Sage for four spectacular days. I loved sleeping on the boat and so did Jake. The Sage was the only part of my life that screamed money. Everything about her was luxurious and over the top, the polar opposite of me. But I couldn’t imagine ever selling her, and I knew my parents would be happy to know I was still enjoying her after everything that had happened.
Our last night on the boat was perfect, the lake calm and the moon full. Since I had been selfishly taking advantage of Jake and his culinary skills over the past month, I decided to treat him to an Addy specialty. He waited patiently on deck while I worked on my top secret recipe. As soon as I brought our perfectly garnished meals up to the table, Jake started laughing.
“Mac and cheese? This is your top secret recipe?”
He was wearing board shorts and nothing else. His sun-kissed, tattooed skin was off the charts sexy. I pinched his nipple and twisted it hard.
“Ouch! I’m just kidding. You don’t have to get rough.”
I sat down across from him with my hot pink string bikini covering very little as well.
“It’s macaroni with spicy cashew cheese sauce, roasted brussels sprouts, kale, and sun-dried tomatoes. The ultimate vegan comfort food.”
“That’s what I said. Mac and cheese.” He grinned as he took a bite.
Without hesitation, I grabbed his bowl and tossed it over the side of the boat.
“Oh my God! What the hell?” he yelled in disbelief.
I casually started eating as if nothing had happened. “What? You disrespect my cooking, you disrespect me.”
“What are you, the Culinary Mafia?”
He grabbed my bowl and started shoving the macaroni in his mouth using his hand as a spoon.
“Hey!” I yelled as I got up.
Then he stood and moved away from me, trying to keep his back to me so he could keep shoveling it in. I jumped on his back and we both fell to the padded L-shaped seating area.
“You shit.” I laughed as I moved to straddle him.
He rested the bowl on his chest, but most of it was gone.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Here, did you want some too?” He grabbed what was left and shoved it toward my mouth, smearing it all over my face.
The bowl fell to the floor, luckily landing in one piece, as I leaned in and kissed him, making a point of rubbing my face over his so we were both a cheesy mess. He licked my lips and my cheeks.
“Mmm, I stand corrected. This is definitely one of your best recipes.”
“What are you, five?” I smirked.
“Yeah, because I was the one who threw an entire bowl of mac and cheese, including the bowl, into the lake. Not very eco-friendly of you.”
I scooted off him and grabbed the legs of his shorts. A couple of quick tugs and they were off and Jake was gloriously naked in front of me.
“We’re done talking about this.” I smiled.
He sat up and pulled me to him so I was standing between his legs. I stared down at him, shamelessly admiring his young, beautiful body.
“Jake Matthews, you are sex personified.”
He looked up at me and smiled as he untied my top.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
He sucked in one of my nipples and grazed his teeth across it before turning his attention to my bikini bottoms. Stepping out of them, I straddled his lap as his mouth found my breasts again. I eased onto his waiting erection until it filled me. His hands rested on my butt as he guided me up and down over it. My hands fisted his copper-blond hair that had finally grown enough to grasp in my hands. Pulling his head to my breasts, I arched my back. Sex with Jake was raw and carnal. We didn’t share emotional sentiments and rarely even shared words at all. We were bathed in moonlight and surrounded by the sounds of our flesh moving together, our labored breathing, the occasional moaning, and the lapping of the waves.
I was surprised how easy it was for me to separate my feelings for Jake. We had worked together for three years and I cared about him as a friend, but when we had sex, it was purely physical for me. It was like I became a different person when he was inside me. I no longer thought of him as Jake my friend or owner of my Café. I experienced a total emotional detachment. It made it easy for me to walk away the moment we were done. I had no desire to cuddle, spoon, or snuggle under the covers wrapped in his arms. I didn’t miss him when my bed was empty in the morning, and I was never jealous when young beautiful girls flirted with him. He was my distraction … he was my Olivia.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Journal Day 35
Grateful for mac and cheese.
After we returned to Milwaukee I received a call from Elena. It was great to hear her voice and talk with her again. It didn’t matter that I ended it with Quinn. Elena felt like a surrogate mother to me, and I never intended for our relationship to end when mine and Quinn’s did.
“Elena, so good to hear from you.”
“Addy, how are you? I think about you all the time. I’ve wanted to call more. I’ve even wanted to come for a visit, but—”
“But Quinn is your son and you love him dearly so keeping in contact with me is awkward. Elena, I understand, I really do. I’m just happy to be speaking with you now.”
“Oh, Addy, it wasn’t just Quinn, it was you too. I felt like my voice, my texts, my presence would have been too much of a reminder of what happened between the two of you, and I wanted to give you time to heal. Honestly, I wouldn’t be calling you now, but I need your help.” Her voice was sad.
“Name it.“
The line was silent. I wondered if we’d been disconnected.
“Elena?”
“I’m here.” There was another pause. “Addy, I need you to fly me back to Spain.”
I was instantly confused and unsure of what to say, ask, or answer.
“Um, sure.” I was hesitant, almost fearful with my next words. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m sick, sweetie.”
My heart sank and the lump in my throat was too big, words couldn’t escape.
“It’s pancreatic cancer. It’s the real reason I left for Spain after Lucas died. Quinn and Alexis don’t know anything about it. Alexis has young children and I couldn’t burden her with my problem so quickly after losing her father. And Quinn had his plate full with Lucas’ business matters. Chase and my sister agreed to help me through the chemotherapy and only contact Quinn and Alexis if I didn’t improve. After eight weeks of chemotherapy, the doctors were optimistic. Then by the time you came for Quinn’s birthday, I was in remission.”
I wiped the streams of tears from my face and dug deep to gain some composure.
“It’s back, Addy, but now it’s spread to my liver.”
“So you’re going back to Spain for treatment?”
Her next few words were controlled and spoken with finality. “I’m going home, Addy. Valencia is my home … I’m going home to die.”
Oh. Dear. God.
It was like finding my parents murdered in their house all over again. I smelled the smoke and heard the screeching sound of the fire alarms coming from my house, walking around confused as my lungs burned from smoke inhalation after going back into the house when Malcolm didn’t come out. I was hearing the news that my whole life had been taken from me in a matter of a few minutes.
Then I heard it, and only it. Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump.
“Addy? Addy? Addy, are you still there? Sweetie, did you hear me? Addy?”
“Yes.” My voice was flat, emotionless.
It was all I could manage to say. Elena had no idea what she was asking of me.
“Yes you heard me, or yes you’ll take me back to Spain?”
The tears wouldn’t stop. I licked the saltiness from my lips and closed my eyes, hoping they’d stop.
“Both. I’ll get a flight out in the morning.” I went to push the END button when Elena spoke.
�
��Addy, nobody else knows and I want to keep it that way. Okay?”
“Elena—”
“Nobody, Addy. It’s how it has to be.”
*
Journal Day 36
Grateful for perspective … fucking perspective.
My mom used to tell me that death put everything in perspective. She said without it the circle of life would be incomplete and the world would be out of balance. I often wondered if my mother was partaking in any sort of afterlife. If so, would she say the tragic deaths of everyone who mattered most to me were a necessary sacrifice to achieve balance?
If there was an upside to being an orphaned adult, it was lack of accountability. No official family, no official job, and very few friends made it easy to leave town indefinitely. Both Mac and Jake trusted me enough to respect my need to leave for a while without much explanation. Mac was concerned at first, but I assured her I was fine and my secrecy was for someone else, not myself.
I arrived in New York by noon and hailed a cab to Elena’s. The possibility of running into Quinn was extremely remote, but I couldn’t help being a little on edge until we were safely boarded on a plane to Spain. When I arrived at Elena’s, she was in the middle of sorting personal items into three boxes labeled Quinn, Chase, and Alexis.
“Addy!” she yelled with genuine excitement.
Elena was a naturally thin lady, but she had lost weight, too much weight. Slightly yellowed skin, I imagined she was probably jaundiced. She sat at the kitchen table but made no attempt to get up. I leaned over and hugged her frail body.
“How are you feeling today?”
She dismissively waved her hand at me. “Ah, it’s just another day. I’ve had better … I’ve had worse.”
I pulled out a chair and sat down next to her as she continued to sort through some old photos. “What can I help you do?”
“I have an old jewelry box upstairs on my dresser. Could you go get it?”
I placed my hand over hers and squeezed it. “Sure, I’ll be right back.”
Her bedroom wasn’t the one Quinn and I stayed in; hers had black and white photographs of her children and grandchildren covering almost every inch of the wall. The one that hung over her bed was a wedding photo of her and Lucas. It was a candid shot and they looked happy and blissful. The opposite wall had baby pictures of Quinn, Chase, and Alexis. All parents think their babies are beautiful, but Elena’s really were. They all had dark hair and dark eyes with flawless skin. There was one picture where Elena was breastfeeding Alexis with Chase on one side of the chair and Quinn on the other. Chase’s wide eyes were looking at his baby sister while Quinn’s dark eyes were fixed on his mother. My gaze drifted from one picture to the next. Each one portrayed a loving, nurturing mother and her beautiful children. Tears raced down my face as I felt Elena’s pain, what would be her children’s pain, and the unearthed pain of my own past.
I stepped into her bathroom, taking a moment to wipe my eyes and nose, before I returned to the kitchen with her jewelry box.
“The photos that adorn the walls of your room are just so beautiful and intimate. You must feel surrounded by such love when you’re in there.”
She smiled as I handed her the jewelry box. “Yes, it’s my favorite room in the house. As you probably noticed, it’s not the master suite. When Lucas was going through his … rough patch, I made that room my own. I feel love in that room. I feel loved in those pictures. Motherhood is the ultimate expression of a woman’s soul.” She placed her hand on my leg. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Her comment and empathetic smile shook me to my core. My whole body tensed as I fought back the tears. I looked away from her gaze while giving a slight nod.
“Now, let’s see what treasures I have to bestow upon my lovelies.”
She wasn’t going to let me cry. Like the flip of a switch, she was all smiles as she rummaged through her jewelry box. Most of the contents went in Alexis’ box, but there were some men’s watches and cufflinks that must have belonged to Lucas that she sorted into Chase and Quinn’s boxes. She’d periodically hold up an item to share the history or sentimental value behind it. My mind wandered to all my mom’s jewelry that was either packed away or in a safe-deposit box. Eight years later, and I still couldn’t bring myself to go through their stuff. I had very few things that should have been of sentimental value, but what I did have was sentimental because someone wanted me to think of it that way. I still owned The Sage because I promised people I loved that I wouldn’t sell it, not because of personal sentimental value. Things seemed more appealing to me when I had people to share them with. Since I’d lost those people, the materialistic things had turned into excess clutter with bittersweet memories.
“Here, my dear. I want you to have this.” Elena held up a rosary. “This was my mother’s Spanish colonial rosary with mother of pearl beads. I know you’re not Catholic, but Quinn told me you meditate. Maybe you can use them for prayer or meditation beads.”
“Elena, you don’t have to—”
“Addy, I want you to have it. When I’m gone I want you to occasionally light a candle, hold these in your hands, and pray for my family. I want this to be a symbol of our connection … nothing else, just you and me.”
“Thank you.” I held out my hands and she set the rosary in them then covered my hands with hers.
“Now, these boxes need to be taken to my closet. Nobody will think to go in there until after I’m––”
I saw her take a slow swallow as the sharp edge of reality cut into her and she stopped short of finishing.
“I’ve got them.” I grabbed the first box and headed up the stairs.
We spent the rest of the afternoon sorting through personal items. Although I did all the foot work, Elena was still exhausted by dinner. She didn’t eat much and insisted on going to bed right after she was done eating.
“Early flight in the morning, dear. Don’t stay up too late.”
“I won’t,” I replied as I gave her a warm hug.
She embraced me with love and whispered in my ear. “You know I’ll never be able to repay you for what you’re doing for me?”
“I don’t expect anything,” I whispered back.
Then she turned and slowly made her way up the stairs. “That’s why I chose you.”
*
Journal Day 37
Grateful for Elena.
We left early the following morning, not on a private jet like I did with Quinn, but first-class commercial. I silently stood by and watched Elena leave her family home for the last time. I held her hand as the plane took off because I knew she was looking out the window and saying goodbye to America for the last time. She was saying goodbye to Quinn, Alexis, and her grandchildren. She was saying goodbye to Lucas, whose body was buried in a cemetery a few miles from their home. I imagined part of her was actually thinking, “See you soon.”
We said very little on the flight to Valencia. The conflict that had to be going on in her mind and her heart was unimaginable. I never had the chance to say goodbye to my loved ones; Elena did, but chose not to. Goodbyes don’t ease the pain and they don’t give closure, at least not to the living. It was admirable for Elena to save her children from what was to come, but I also ached for their broken hearts that would be mistaken for anger. They would resent her for not telling them, and they would long for the goodbye they never got to have.
When we arrived in Spain, I promised myself it was my last visit. The world was too big to spend time in a place that held so many painful memories. Spain represented the beginning of the end for me and Quinn. I knew when I left again it would hold new memories … the memories of Elena’s last days on Earth and the burden of guilt that I was the only one who shared those days with her. The thought crossed my mind if Elena considered how her children would feel about me after finding out that I was the one to be with her. Maybe I was the scapegoat. If they hated me, it would only leave love for her. Honestly, I was fine with that. I loved Elena and I wa
s willing to do that for her. I was willing to do that for her children.
She had arranged for transportation, but we didn’t go to her sister’s house. Instead, we ended up at a small beach villa with an amazing view of the Mediterranean.
“I assumed we’d be going to your sister’s?” I questioned.
Elena eased her way out of the car with my help. “Addy, I told you nobody else. You’re the only one that knows I’m dying, except my doctors and the at-home hospice nurse who will join us in a few weeks.”
Her words cinched the massive knot in my gut.
“Are you sure? You said your sister and Chase helped you through this before. I’d imagine they’d want to be here too,” I pleaded.
“That was different. They stood by me while I ‘fought’ the cancer. I’m not fighting it, Addy. They wouldn’t watch me die if they thought there was even a remote chance I could do something to prolong my life, even if only a few months.”
As we walked into the villa, she turned toward me. “They would think I was giving up, but I’m not.”
I closed my eyes and nodded in understanding as the words effortlessly fell from my lips. “You’re letting go.”
*
Journal Day 38
Grateful for the beautiful view of the pristine aquamarine waters of the Mediterranean and of course, Elena.
Journal Day 39
Grateful for wicker rockers, hot tea, and Elena.
Elena’s health quickly started to decline within the first couple of days after arriving at the villa. It was as if her body knew she had reached her final destination and it no longer had to be strong. Her back pain worsened by the day, and she vomited at night. Fruit was about the only thing that tasted good to her or that stayed down. By the end of our first week, she looked at least ten pounds lighter and an equal many years older. I made herbal teas to help with the nausea and to help her sleep.
Journal Day 44
Grateful for exhaustion and Elena.
Every day I suggested we call the hospice nurse to come stay with us, but Elena insisted she wasn’t ready for that yet. The pain and nausea would eventually wear her out and she would collapse into a sleep. Every time she closed her eyes I wondered if it was for the last time. She never gave me instructions as to how she expected me to break the news to her family, so every time she opened her eyes a wave a relief came over me.