Would she exchange this for the frenetic pace of the New York office? Without a doubt.
“This is Dr. Hernandez.”
When he knew that she was on the other end of the line, his professional tone gave way to the one with which she had become familiar.
“Hey, Nina. How’s your day going?”
“So far, so good,” she answered. “Thanks for your text. I had fun, too. I’d love to get together Saturday.”
“Great. We’ll talk soon about that. In the meantime, can you meet me at the ER clinic around four this afternoon? We can release Manny then, and I can go over what he’ll need. He’s making great progress, and I’m sure he’s ready to be home.”
“Aretha and I have missed the little yapper. Tell him we’ll see him in a few hours.”
Nina then contacted Kelley and her daughter Crystal, and they arranged to meet the next morning over breakfast.
Daisy and Nina had lunch with Elise in her office to work out story assignments. Nina arrived before Daisy and was relieved Elise made no mention of her having been with her brother. While policies existed for office romances, she had no idea how to handle a relationship with a boss’s sibling. Getting ahead of yourself, Nina. One dinner isn’t a relationship, but I wouldn’t mind if more did make it so.
Elise had arranged for a local deli to provide salads and a tray of fruit, with a side of chocolate gelato. “Figured we’d be tossing ideas around, might as well toss salads, right?” She looked at Daisy and Nina. “Guess that wasn’t as funny as I’d hoped.”
Nina expected to play polite tug-of-war over some of the assignments. But Daisy offered to take over the political corruption story without any protest, so Nina could focus on the feature.
“But I thought you didn’t like writing those stories,” Nina said.
“I’m learning to stretch. Besides, you might want to get back to politics after you dabble in the wild side of feature writing,” Daisy said and handed Nina her salad bowl for a refill.
Elise closed her laptop. “Sometimes life works out so much better than we anticipated,” she said and smiled in Nina’s direction.
29
Kelley and Crystal waved Nina to their table where they already had coffee waiting.
“After all those years of using, Carlys surprised us by not dying of a drug overdose. Never would have thought it though. That girl checked in and out of rehab hospitals like they were resort hotels.”
Crystal, her twin, handed her mother a biscuit. “Except that the resorts might have cost less.”
Kelley squeezed her daughter’s hand. “Might be right on that one. Anyway,” she breathed in as if Nina had pressed a stethoscope to her chest, “last time out, she stayed clean for months. Then, we started to notice she was sleeping longer. ’Course we were suspicious, how could we not be? But when Crystal told us about her night sweats and her complaints of fever, we figured one monster of a cold was headed her way.”
The monster wreaking havoc upon Carlys wasn’t a cold. It was AIDS.
“The doctor told us she probably shared a dirty needle with someone who was infected. Of course, Carlys had no idea who that someone might be.” Crystal rubbed her arms like the temperature dropped. “It’s so weird to think a stranger killed my sister, and doesn’t even know.”
“Almost a year later, Carlys died. And she stayed clean. She was proud of herself for that. But . . .” Against a backdrop of dishes clattering, the thick smell of bacon, and the wait staff carrying trays like large brown halos, Kelley shared the pain that ripped through her every night. The wound that would never heal.
“. . . people who knew Carlys, just figured it was drugs that killed her. I never told them otherwise. Couldn’t make myself say my daughter died from AIDS.” She looked at Nina. “What kind of mother lies about why her child died?”
When Nina returned to her office, she didn’t remember eating breakfast at all.
“Do you realize that Kelley’s daughter might have been saved by something that costs less than a dollar?” Nina handed Aretha the article she’d been reading on syringe exchange and needle share programs and their importance in reducing and preventing HIV. “These programs provided a way for drug users to be given free sterile syringes. That one difference could have saved her from being infected.”
Aretha leaned against the pine tree and propped the tablet against her knees. “I’d like to read this. Make sure Mr. Manny doesn’t try to escape.”
“As if,” said Nina. “He’s basking in the outdoors, content to be home.” She carried him outside, as per Greg’s instructions, for what Aretha referred to as his daily “constitutional.” After their first adventure into the front yard yesterday, Aretha told Manny he needed a few less amendments to his constitution.
The sun hadn’t yet disappeared into a pocket of clouds when the three of them settled on a patch a grass, the two women sitting cross-legged in front of the dog, blocking the street. Even if he had a yearning to dash in that direction, there was no way he’d outrun them. So, Manny alternately lifted his head to catch a breeze, then rested it on top of his bandaged leg.
Nina scratched behind his ears, remembering Greg’s litany of instructions when they checked Manny out of the clinic. He helped Aretha settle the dog in the car while Nina wrote a check for his treatment. Once outside, she’d thanked him for his help with Manny and with the charges. “I appreciate all you did for Manny, and I meant it when I said I didn’t want this costing you more than it cost me,” she told him
“Not at all. And even if it did, you . . . I mean Manny, was worth it.”
Aretha was packing a dinner to take to Luke who worked late shift, and Nina had started writing her feature about Carlys when Greg called about dinner and a movie Saturday night. “Or it could be a movie and dinner, either way.”
They were still talking when Aretha came back almost an hour later.
“Did you read it? What did you think?”
Elise and Peyton had stopped by Saturday on their way home from lunch to spend time with their niece, but Greg knew his sister. She didn’t want to just hear his reaction to Nina’s first article, she wanted to examine every pore on his face for a reaction.
Greg relocated a collection of stuffed bears from the couch to the coffee table so his sister and brother-in-law could have a place to sit. Sheets had been loosely tented on the furniture in one-half of the family room. A play kitchen, art easel, and a stack of books took up space in the other half.
“I haven’t had a chance to read it yet because I’ve been a tent-building, water-coloring, tea-partying daddy most of the morning,” Greg said as he picked two dolls and a broken cookie off the floor. “I may need to spend time at the gym to build stamina just to play with my daughter.”
Peyton looked around the room. “Ever thought of putting up a train or a race track? Get one of those, and I’ll join the play group.”
While Peyton talked, Jazarah’s little round singing could be heard coming from one of the flowered tents. “I hiding. I hiding. I hiding.”
“I’ll write them both on your Christmas list, Peyton,” said Elise. “We’ll entertain the princess. You go read that piece that Nina worked on for the past three weeks.” Elise slipped out of her heels, and in a too-loud voice said, “Uncle Peyton, we have to find our little lost niece. Where could she be?”
A soft giggle floated into the room. Greg watched as his sophisticated sister and her husband crawled the short space to where Jazarah hid under a sheet draped over a chair. As Greg left the room, he heard Peyton exclaim, “There you are!” followed by the delighted squeals of his daughter.
In that moment, Greg realized God’s reunion with Lily must have sounded much the same. And if what Greg experienced with his daughter was a mere shadow of what God experienced with His daughter, he knew Lily’s joy was more spectacular than he could imagine.
Have fun, my sweet Lily. Fill the heavens with your laughter.
The features had started weeks
ago when Nina opened her email to read one of Elise’s “see me” directives. Nina closed her laptop and waited for her insides to stop practicing aerobics. At one time, the internal gut-bouncing meant she feared the dragon-lady’s fire belching. Not now. Not today. The knot was her own.
“Nina, these interviews are powerful and poignant. The feedback we’re receiving is incredible. Every story resonates because this disease may be pandemic, but it’s personal. And you’re not only telling stories, you’re weaving in facts that people might not ever know or feel comfortable asking.”
Elise’s office door was already open when Nina arrived. As soon as she walked in, Nina eyed a stack of magazines on her desk.
“Have a seat.” Elise’s voice was the excited impatience of someone waiting for a show to start. “Water?”
When Nina turned down the offer of water, Elise picked up the magazine with her first article, the one featuring Kelley’s daughter Carlys, from a stack on her desk. “The information here about federal funding of needle exchange programs, the number of infections from injection drugs, is getting people’s attention.”
The second interview, with Pam and Eli, already parents of three biological children, told their story of finding their adopted son Jacob begging on the streets. “If Eli had not been there with the medical team, Jacob and his sister would probably have died by now. We saved two children,” Pam had said, “but since 1984, over 14 million children have been orphaned in Southern Africa because of AIDS.” Elise said local organizations contacted her to thank her because they’d experienced an increased interest in volunteer teams after the article published.
Nina appreciated Elise’s enthusiasm, but knew if she didn’t say something soon, her courage would stomp out like an unwelcome visitor. Before Elise picked up another magazine, Nina blurted, “Elise, there’s another story I want to discuss with you.”
Elise’s eyes switched to high beams. “Another series?” She grabbed her notebook.
Nina’s body was firmly planted in the chair across from her boss, but her mind paced up and down the office. “Well, only if a series of dates would . . .” She inched forward. “I don’t know why I’m trying to be clever, here. You know Greg and I have been seeing each other, and I think you and I have handled the boundaries well.”
“If you consider pretending it’s not happening to be handling it well then I agree with you,” Elise said. “Wait, I meant that to be amusing. Peyton’s always telling me I don’t do amusing well. I need to listen to the man more.”
Nina loosened her grip on the chair arms. “Okay, I’m glad you clarified that. I just figured there would be a time when one of us would have to bring it up. And, this is it.”
Elise’s expression was guarded, but Nina had prepared herself for the worst. So far, the discussion was miles ahead of what she expected. “Greg wants me to meet Jazarah this weekend, and I know this is a huge step for him. I care about him very much. The challenge is, I’d love to end the series with an interview with him. But, before I approached him, I wanted to talk to you. Not just because of Greg, but because of what it would mean for you as well.”
Elise tapped her pen on her planner and stared out the window as she was prone to do when she wrestled with a decision. The pen slowed to a stop, and Nina saw a softer, less intense Elise. Even her eyes, usually like two dark drill bits ready to bore into someone, appeared relaxed. “Like you, I’ve been wondering when we’d have to cross the line from colleagues to, well, two women who care about the same man. Once we stepped over it, we’d have to be able to move back and forth, and yet not get our roles confused.” She left her desk and closed the door to her office. She pulled a chair from the corner and moved it next to Nina’s before she sat. “Of course, I’ve known you and Greg have spent time together. When he finally shared the high school and benefit night disasters, I was surprised and impressed that you both moved past that.” She looked away for a moment, and then continued. “Elise, Greg’s sister, who knows that she’s not seen her brother this happy in a long time, has hesitated telling you this. But, Elise, your editor, knows she must.”
Nina, had she been given a minute of privacy, would have checked under her chair to see if her stomach had gone there. Elise couldn’t possibly be setting her up for something negative, could she? Nina wished now she’d taken her up on that offer of water earlier.
“We’re pulling Janie out of New York. It’s a disaster. The job is yours, if you want it.”
30
Nina experienced, for the first time, that exquisite moment of dream becoming reality, when the word surreal becomes palpable, and you recognize that if this one thing is possible, then so is the second or third or anything after. She feared she might not be able to respond to Elise for the horn-blowing celebration marching through her head. “I’m happily stunned. Happily. Stunned.” This time, her grip on the armrests was to prevent her from leaping out of the chair and clapping like a cheerleader.
“Of course, your discretion and confidentiality are expected at this point. And you don’t need to make a decision now or even this week.” Elise looked at her watch. “My cell phone, my telephone, my email will all be assaulted in the next hour after the editor talks to Janie. It’s going to take a solid two weeks for movement, and I’m certain it’s going to be a struggle. But it’s not one you need to involve yourself in.” She grabbed two water bottles out of the small refrigerator near her desk and, this time, Nina accepted one. “I want you to give this serious thought, write down any questions or concerns you have, and we’ll talk next week.”
Nina streamed out a chorus of, “Great. Good. Sure. Of course,” as Elise spoke. She was about to thank her, when Elise said, “Oh, one more thing. And I’m going to cross that boundary, but I feel it’s necessary. If and when you discuss this with Greg or tell him your decision is your call. By the time this is all finalized, should you move ahead, it might be at least three or four weeks. Getting close to Jazarah and then leaving is going to be tough. I’m not suggesting you don’t meet her. Everyone should, she’s an amazing kid. But, be aware that she’s one of those kids who forms attachments quickly. Breaking them is tough.”
“I understand. And, Elise, thank you for this chance.”
“You’re welcome. Just be sure it’s still what you want. I have no doubt you can make it work. But remember, geography isn’t a magical cure.”
Stepping out of the elevator, Elise’s offer bouncing around inside her, knowing she’d been given the choice to stay or to go, Nina’s vision of the office was already one degree of separation away. But the empowerment she felt inside the Trends office didn’t transfer so easily to her life outside of it. The closer her car brought her to home, the less detached she felt about her surroundings.
She wouldn’t be relocating her life as she knew it and reconstructing it in Manhattan. Aretha, her home, her Girls’ Night Out group would stay in Houston. Manny? What would she do about him, especially since she had no idea where she’d live? No backyards in a high-rise to run around in. By the time she unlocked her front door, she’d already started finding the flaws in her diamond.
When Manny didn’t bark at the sound of her key in the lock, Nina dropped everything and ran to the kitchen to check his crate. Once she spotted the note taped to it, her heart made its way down, and out of her throat. Aretha said she and Luke took Manny for his follow-up visit because Greg wasn’t going to be at the clinic Saturday.
About to be annoyed she missed a chance to see Greg, Nina’s brain kicked into gear reminding her she was the reason Greg wasn’t working Saturday. They were taking Jazarah to the Butterfly Museum. And, now, having thought about being with him this weekend, she couldn’t not think about him. Six little mini-Snickers, a handful of jelly beans, and several spoons of Blue Bell straight from the carton later, she still couldn’t stop thinking about him. When the sugar therapy failed, she changed into yoga pants that had never seen the inside of a yoga studio and a T-shirt.
She
decided to start doing research for her interview with Martha. In 1983, Martha and Frank drove to Women’s Hospital when their son-in-law Dan called to tell them their daughter Jill was in labor and about to deliver their first grandchild. They arrived to learn Jill hemorrhaged during delivery and required a transfusion of two pints of blood, but she was stabilized and eager for them to meet their grandson, Adam. Jill nursed Adam for six months. He grew into a chunky little crawler. By the time he was a year old, he’d already started taking stiff-legged steps from one side of the room to the other.
A few years later, Martha made one of the most difficult telephone calls of her life. She’d heard a news report that said tainted blood transfusions could cause something called acquired immune deficiency syndrome. Jill tested positive, but Dan was negative. Adam, because he was breast-fed, also tested positive. Frank and Martha’s grandson died at the age of six. No tested or approved drugs for pediatric patients with AIDS existed at that time. By 1987, Jill was able to start taking AZT, an antiretroviral medicine that the FDA had approved.
Nine years later, Frank and Martha buried their daughter next to her son.
Researching the progression of AIDS for the story, Nina made notes of the three different stages. The first two were characterized as HIV, and the third and final stage of infection is AIDS. As she clicked from one site to verifying information and listing symptoms, she felt like someone playing Jeopardy. She had the answers, but she couldn’t figure out the question.
Nina started again, thinking perhaps she’d just missed something along the way. When the question finally came to her, she wished that it hadn’t because once you know something, you can’t not know it. Which is not the same as pretending you don’t know, and it was that very difference that turned her inside-out.
Threads of Hope: Quilts of Love Series Page 16