by Jolene Perry
My legs shook so hard I felt like I could crumple. The hammock seemed impossibly high. I stood there staring at it for a moment.
“You know I actually like touching you, wife of mine.” He smiled down at me.
I sighed. “Fine.”
With careful hands he lifted me and set me easily on the middle of the hammock.
“That wasn’t so terrible was it?” He was trying to engage me in something, but leaned away when I didn’t respond. “Okay, well let me know if you want me to take a walk with you back inside or want to share a snack, okay?”
I nodded and turned my face toward the warm sun. He stood there for a moment and then left me. Finally. A few minutes later I heard Megan.
“Hey Leigh, are you trying to sleep?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“Mind if I sit?”
I shook my head again.
“Brian must be busy?”
“He’s inside,” I said. I didn’t want to make small talk, but turned to look at her anyway. “You’re starting to look pregnant,” I noticed.
Her arms immediately wrapped around her stomach. “I know.” She smiled. “I look down and I can’t imagine my stomach getting any bigger but the nurse side of me knows that I have a lot of growing room left. I’m gaining weight at an increasingly rapid pace.”
“And I’m losing it.”
She paused, looking at me for a moment. “You’re kind of scaring me, Leigh.”
“What do you mean?” I knew what she meant. I just didn’t see how I could change anything right now.
“You’re just not yourself.”
“You wouldn’t be either,” I pointed out.
“Yeah. Probably not, but still, I just wanted you to know that I’m worried about you.”
“Is that why you’re here?” I asked. To lecture Leigh?
“No.” She smiled wide.
“What’s going on?”
“We’re having a boy. We wanted you to know first. It’s always felt like you cared more than anyone else.”
“Well, that little boy will make me an auntie to someone I’ll actually get to see once in a while.” I’d only seen Joseph’s kids the one time. He still hadn’t made it out this way. I was starting to get annoyed with him.
“End of July,” she said.
Wow. The end of July. I thought about how many months away that was. It seemed like an impossibly long time. “I’m glad you’re having a boy. Boys are fun.” I tried hard to keep my composure.
“You okay?” She turned her head sideways to look at me closer.
“Tired,” I managed to say.
“Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll take off.” She leaned over and gave me a very gentle hug. “It was good to see you, Leigh, even for just a few minutes.”
I nodded and closed my eyes. I felt squeezed. Like all the weight of our conversation held me and wouldn’t let go. I’d stood in Andy’s room and thought about how I’d hoped she’d feel better when I came back in a couple of weeks. She hadn’t made it that long.
Megan was planning months ahead. To make it worse, she was having a boy. She’d get to have all of those first moments and years that I hadn’t gotten to have with Nathan. I found myself, once again, wishing to sleep through the next six months.
- - -
Brian and Jaron asked everyone over to my porch for the afternoon. I felt tired, grumpy, and didn’t want to try to make nice. They all slowly gathered while I rested on my hammock. Nathan wanted me to read stories, but I didn’t have the strength. I closed my eyes in the sunshine and listened to the growing number of voices. It felt good at first, but then the voices started to blend together.
Just like Christmas morning, I could feel the noise through my body. The first wave of nausea hit, and all I wanted was my cool bedroom and my bed. I opened my eyes and searched for Brian. Nathan saw me first and came over.
“I need your dad,” I whispered.
“Okay,” he whispered back. He ran his small fingers across my bare head. His small gesture overwhelmed me close to tears.
Julie, Stuart, Cassandra—who wasn’t much of a baby anymore, Jaron and Megan were all there happily chatting away.
Brian stood next to me in a minute.
“Walk with me inside?” I asked.
He helped me off my hammock onto the porch.
“Sorry,” I whispered as I looked around. I should have said something else then, something to their expectant, worried faces, but I didn’t. There weren’t any more words than that.
Brian half carried me to our room and helped me back in bed. The dark, cool and quiet was what I needed. And to be alone.
“I’m sorry, Leigh. It seemed like a good idea. I thought if you had your friends around you again that—”
“That I’d magically get better?”
“No.” He looked down. He didn’t know what to do. “We’ll wait until it’s your idea next time.”
“I’m going to take a nap.” I scooted further down in bed.
“Okay.” He breathed out and then left the room.
I felt alone. Tired. Sinking.
- - -
Three more days until number ten. I was getting close, but not close enough. I knew it would be months after my last time in before I started to feel like myself again. Still swimming, still dark, still didn’t care.
“Can I help you to the couch?” Brian asked.
“I can walk,” I insisted. I started to stand up. I should not have felt so weak. This was the time I should have the strength I wanted to do things. Something, anything. I took a step and Brian had to catch me.
“Hey there.” He smiled at me in his arms. I felt weak and sick and like I didn’t want to be close to anyone.
“Sorry.” I looked down and tried to push away from him.
“Leigh, just let me walk with you, okay?”
I fought back tears of frustration and put my arm around his waist so he could help me to the couch.
“See?” He smiled down at me. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“Stop saying that!” I said. “It is that bad!”
He dropped his arms, unsure of how to respond.
“I really, really just want to feel alone for a little while. Why don’t you take Riley for a run or something?” I suggested.
“I’m just worried—”
“Really?” I set my jaw. “What on earth is going to happen in thirty minutes?”
“Okay.” He looked down, hurt, but went into our room to change.
He came back out a few minutes later. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Have fun.” I closed my eyes and sunk into the couch.
“Can I get you—”
“I’m fine, Brian. Please just get out of here for a while.” I hadn’t meant for it to come out quite as harsh as it did.
“Okay.” He walked out the door and I heard him run before he left the steps. He needed to get out of here.
I needed out of here, but that much activity was no longer worth what it did to me in the end.
About ten minutes after Brian disappeared, I heard a knock on the front door and then it opened. That was one of the downsides of having family nearby and having good friends that lived close.
“Leigh?” Jaron’s voice.
“You’re having a boy,” I said. I didn’t move.
“Yep.” He smiled at me. “How are you?”
“That’s against the rules.” My voice sounded rough. My throat was sore from throwing up.
“What?”
“Never mind.” I sighed. “What can I do for you, Jaron?”
“I’m just here to say hi.”
“No you’re not. I can tell by the way you’re standing there, you have something you want to talk about or something you want to say.”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Brian’s just worried about you. We all are. You started this . . . so well, and now . . .”
“Yeah, well, when you try spending between four and five months doi
ng this… Losing a close friend whose been fighting the same thing you have. Losing your hair. Losing any sense of intimacy with someone you’ve been married to for only months. When you do that, then you can come in here and criticize.”
“I’m not criticizing you, Leigh. But you have to let us help you out, talk to you.” He sat on the chair next to me.
“I let Brian help me out to the couch just a little while ago.” So, ha.
“But were you nice about it?” Sometimes it was really annoying having someone know you so well. I wasn’t in the mood.
“I’m tired, Jaron.”
“Okay.” He stood, but didn’t move. “But give it some thought. It just wouldn’t be that hard for you to make Brian’s life a little easier. All you have to do is let the man do things for you.”
“It’s all he does, Jaron. He takes care of me and he takes care of Nathan because I can’t. It’s all he does.” How did everyone not see that?
“We’re not getting anywhere here.” Jaron still looked at me. “Don’t forget to be prayerful, Leigh.”
“Yeah.”
“What?” he asked.
“I’ve tried that.”
“And?”
“Nothing.” I couldn’t believe that I’d just admitted that out loud.
Jaron paused and let out a breath. “Sometimes we just need to lean on each other.”
“It’s all I’m doing.”
“No. It’s not all you’re doing. It’s the one thing you’re not doing. Tell Brian. Let him pray with you. You’re married. He’s a good guy. He can carry this part of you for a while.”
“Andy was carrying that hopeful, happy part of me.” I realized it as I said the words.
“And now she’s gone,” he said quietly.
I nodded.
“So, now it’s time that you turn that back to your husband. Let him carry that part of you again.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. I turned my head back toward the ceiling and closed my eyes, wandering back to the same thought I’d had over and over.
I just wanted to sleep for the whole rest of the process. Just sleep until it was all over. The next few days I did my best to do just that.
- - -
Sunday before treatment day again, Brian set me up outside on my hammock. After I’d gotten comfortable, I heard someone come up the porch steps. I opened my eyes.
“Josie.” I turned my head toward her. Too many people, too much monotonous routine.
She stopped at the top of the steps and quickly tried to regroup. She looked at her feet for a moment before looking at me again.
“Hey, Leigh.”
“You can come sit.” My voice was quiet and still sounded awful. She walked over and sat down, setting her hands in her lap. Hey eyes darted from me to our surroundings on the porch.
“We’re up here to visit our parents for spring break,” she explained.
“And how’s married life?” I asked. I tried to smile. When I’d been married as long as her, I’d just come out of surgery.
Her face spread into a smile. “It’s great.”
“Good.”
“Leigh… I didn’t expect you to look so…”
“Sick?” I offered.
She bit her lower lip.
“I just lost a good friend, Josie.” It hurt to say the words out loud. I pushed hard for my chest to go back to feeling tired and heavy. It was better than sad.
She nodded, still thinking. “Are you dying, Leigh? Am I allowed to ask that?”
“I don’t know,” I answered. I thought saying those words out loud would bother me, but they didn’t. I simply didn’t care. Caring exhausted me.
Josie nodded and took in a deep breath. She leaned over me and gave me a long hug. I expected to feel love or sadness or something. I felt nothing, only the weight I’d been carrying for a while.
“I should go,” she said. “Brian warned me that you’re really tired.”
“Good seeing you.”
She smiled at me again and walked off the porch. Well that was it. I wanted no more visitors. It was too hard. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the relief of being alone.
“How’s Josie?” I heard Brian’s voice as he opened the door to come outside.
So much for alone.
“Good,” I answered. I didn’t open my eyes.
“I brought you a shake,” Brian said.
“I’ll try.” I reached out and took it from him. He’d gotten smarter, making me small ones now. I’d never been able to drink a whole big cup full.
Brian looked at me with that horrible look—the one where he tried to hide his sadness but totally failed. He sat next to me and took my hand in his.
He wanted to talk. I wanted to sleep.
“I love you, Leigh. Can you give me something to do? Is there something we could do together?”
I was confused. He was already working so hard.
He started again, “I just hate feeling like there’s nothing I can do to make you more comfortable or happy…”
“You take care of everything.” I stared. “Everything.” It was an admission of the horrible nothing that I was doing.
He squeezed my hand gently, looking for something else.
I didn’t have the energy to figure out what it was.
“Okay.” He got up and walked slowly back into the house. He looked as heavy as I felt.
I felt a small pang in my chest as the door closed between us. If I internalized that, that small gesture, I would have a lot more to think about.
So I didn’t.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Ten of Twelve
Heavy
“Hello again, Leigh.” Tory smiled. “Back for more are we?” she teased.
She stood there and looked at me for a moment, waiting for me to say something. I didn’t.
“No pithy comebacks today, huh?”
“I’m trying to be cooperative.” I managed a weak smile.
“Hmm… we’ll see.” She raised an eyebrow at me as if she didn’t believe me. “I’ll come and check on you later.” She walked out of the room.
Brian still hadn’t sat down. He stood at the foot of the bed, watching.
“Leigh. What’s going on? This is killing me,” Brian pleaded.
“I’m being cooperative.” I rolled my head to look at him.
“No you’re not! You’ve just given up! You’re never totally cooperative! It’s one of the things I’ve always loved about you! You have to have the last word and you only cooperate to the point you have to. Now, you’re just sitting here!”
“It’s exhausting, Brian, fighting so hard all the time. I just thought I was being good.”
“No you didn’t!” He threw his book across the room. He stopped for a minute then and looked down at the floor, trying to regroup. “You’re not doing anybody any good right now! Least of all yourself! I know what it’s like to lose people you care about. I don’t pretend to completely understand what Andy’s death meant to you, but I’ve lost friends too, Leigh.
“Gabe, from Texas, he was the best shot we had. He died next to me. Louis, a man with three kids at home and a wife he worshipped. Michaels, a raving lunatic who made us all laugh when we thought we’d go crazy if we had to spend one more night fighting in Iraq. Ian who thought he knew everything about everything…”
“Stop.” I couldn’t take it anymore. Each name pounded into me like I’d lost Andy all over again.
He walked next to my bed. “Please, Leigh. Fight a little bit.”
“What if we just don’t have a say, Brian? What if nothing we do changes things and you have to add me to that list?”
“Don’t do this.” He took my hand in his. “We have a say as long as we keep working together. Andy had an inoperable tumor on her spinal cord. You’re going to be fine.”
“It doesn’t feel like it,” I said quietly and then shut my eyes, and hoped I felt terrible enough to go to sleep.