by Kay, Debra
Jenny held my hand as I stumbled to the car, pale and drained. My mind had become numb, and the actions of the world were in slow motion. Finally, I came out of my trance. I glanced out the car window and saw the world as I knew it zoom by. I wondered if my remaining days would have the same feeling as if life whizzed by and I simply watched, frozen. The birds still chirped, and the children still played, but for me everything felt—different.
Then I looked over at Jenny driving without blinking, her hands gripping the steering wheel white-knuckled as she navigated the familiar streets. Sweet Jenny, my pride and joy, who was on the verge of becoming a woman. More than anything, I wanted to see her graduate from college, start a career, and hold her children one day. She had become such a strong person and would be fine without her mother, but I didn’t want her to have to live that way. Not yet . . .
Regardless, I did not want to give in to this deadly disease, and I felt determined to fight for my life. I must fight!
Ten minutes later, we arrived home. As we walked into the house, I had this overwhelming feeling of living in a bad dream. I pinched myself, trying to wake up from this nightmare. No use. This situation had become powerfully real.
Jenny said the words I had been thinking. “Well, what should we do now?”
“What choice do I have?” I asked in a weak, defeated voice.
I will be strong and face the enemy; I will find strength!
And then in a louder, stronger voice, I said, “Don’t look at me through eyes of grief because I won’t look at myself that way. I only have one life, and I’m going to enjoy all of it. I will not waste a moment having a pity party for myself. And I don’t want your sympathy, either.”
Impetuously, I blinked the tears that tried to fill my eyes, and I gave Jenny a forced smile. My nerves got the best of me, and suddenly I could not stop talking. “I’m not going to let anything get me down,” I blurted out, surprising myself with my gumption. “Not the divorce from your father or this cancer. Nothing is going to depress me.”
Jenny smiled tight lipped and then hugged me. “I love you, Mommy.”
“I love you, too.” When I looked at her, I realized I loved her more than I thought was possible. I wanted to protect her from the world. My own mother sometimes seemed overbearing, but really she must feel this protective urge.
“How can I help you?” Jenny asked.
“I know you need to get back to school, dear.” Jenny nodded reluctantly. And I added, “I’ll be fine.”
Jenny looked at me, and with what sounded like forced cheerfulness, said, “Yes, you are the most resilient person I know. But nonetheless, I’ll stop by Sunday night. I can pick up a takeout meal for us. Or maybe we can go to a favorite restaurant like the Angus Barn? There’s nothing better than a perfect steak.”
“That’s a great plan, sweetie.” I smiled appreciatively. And suddenly I felt a surge of strength.
Jenny glanced at me as if she wondered how I could look so calm and relaxed now. Maybe I had come to peace with how my life was unfolding.
Despite her hesitation to leave, Jenny walked out the door. I followed with Elky at my heels. I stood on the front porch, proudly watching my grown daughter. I loved every day of being a parent; it was the most gratifying experience of my life.
At first, the idea of motherhood had unleashed a series of apprehensive thoughts. But from the first glimpse of my adorable baby girl, I became a devoted mother. Of all the names I had been called in the past, Mommy was my favorite. I tried my best to give my daughter everything. I was always active in the PTA. I embraced every sport, musical, and academic endeavor she pursued over the years.
Just as Jenny was leaving, she stopped and turned in my direction. “Thank you for being a wonderful mother. I know you made sacrifices to put me first. I want you to know that I appreciate you,” she said, her voice filled with gratitude. “And if anything ever happened to you, I don’t know what I would do. I can’t imagine being in this world without you. You’ve always been my best friend.”
Hearing Jenny’s sweet words, I was not sure if I felt sorrier for myself or the struggles I would be putting her through. It felt so painful to think about Jenny suffering in any way. But I would insist that she continue her college education, regardless of my health.
Although Jenny looked to be in better spirits than she had been earlier, she still seemed dazed. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll be here for you,” she said in a scratchy voice. She suddenly looked years older.
In such an ironic twist of events, Jenny wrapped her arms around me as if she were the one comforting a child. She smiled at me, and I found myself smiling back at her.
“Thank you, dear,” I said gratefully. “And thank goodness,” I sighed, “for your support today.”
A moment later, she spun around to leave. And with heart-wrenching sorrow, I watched her walk to her car. Jenny slid into the front seat, closed the door, and waved good-bye. She glanced in the rearview mirror for one last look in my direction. An instant later, she drove out of the driveway, to travel back to Chapel Hill.
I stepped into the silent house. Once safely inside, I jerked forward, sobbing. My body trembling, my throat began to constrict, and I spread my hands across my face, wiping the tears. The long shadow cast by this disease was taking its toll on my emotions.
Although I felt like I was being pulled into a sinkhole, I was determined to fight my way out. I looked at my reflection in the foyer mirror and studied myself with hopeful eyes.
And with lightning speed, I switched my emotions. It was time to ignore the bad scenarios and only focus on good things. Some circumstances better help one appreciate what one has; that was for sure. When life gives you a rainy day, play in the puddles. And playing with someone who keeps you laughing will make it that much better. Blake!
A few hours later, the telephone rang. It was my mother again. I let the call go to voicemail. When I retrieved my message, she was on the other end saying, “Dixie Elizabeth, this is your mother.” Oh my, I meant to call her as I had promised. Her message continued. “Jenny told me the news, dear. We’re sorry to hear about your suffering. I think a few months in Florida with us will help. This was your mother calling.” I sighed. I love my parents and feel grateful they are in my life, but I think I’ll stay here.
Before I had time to reconsider, the doorbell rang. Standing on my front porch was Jane, looking unusually serious. I opened the door. She grabbed me, threw her arms around my shoulders, and squeezed so hard I had to pry myself free.
Jane wiped her eyes and gave a sympathetic smile. “Jenny just called and shared your news. I hope you’re not mad. She knew you wouldn’t tell me.”
“She was probably right,” I said. And how could I be mad at people who cared enough to worry about me?
“Would you like to talk about your doctor’s appointment?” she asked.
“To be honest, I’m tired of crying. Let’s go have fun and play some tennis instead.”
“Are you sure you’re feeling up to it?”
“I think so; anyway, I have some nervous energy that I need to work out of my system.”
Without hesitation, Jane said, “Okay, I’ll meet you on the court in fifteen minutes.”
Our club consisted of a large, pillared brick building. The two-story structure overlooked the tennis courts. Along the back of the property was an Olympic-sized swimming pool. And next to it was a bathhouse.
When I arrived at the club, I saw Jane’s minivan parked in front. Her car was easy to spot with all the magnets that hugged her bumper. She was clearly proud of her honor students and her dog.
I stopped and greeted a few ladies from my supper club and headed toward the tennis gate. As I approached the first court, I saw Jane stretching.
“You’re going to need a bigger car soon. Those magnets are multiplying and taking over,” I said.
Laughter flickered in her eyes. “My kids keep getting me those. At first a few magnets were cut
e. But now it looks like I’m driving a big refrigerator.”
For the first time all day, I laughed. “I especially like the one that reads: It doesn’t get any better than this.”
Jane giggled. “Did you notice that I put that magnet on top of the dent in my car? If you peel it off, you will see silver duct tape.”
“I didn’t even see the dent. I’m going to make you one in the shape of a tennis racket that reads: Game, set, match . . . don’t mess with my hatch.”
“No, I don’t think I have anything to worry about,” she said. “No one’s going to bother that mom mobile. One glance inside the car and a thief would run away in disgust.”
“I remember those days. For such small people, kids sure have a lot of stuff,” I said, touching my toes.
“You got that right.” She lunged forward with her left leg and straightened her right.
“That would be fun to make humorous magnets.”
“You’re the artist. Can you make me one in the shape of a swimming pool that reads: Game, set, match . . . if you look like Chase, come play with my snatch?” She tossed her head back and laughed. “You know I’m joking, right?”
“I saw the way you were leering at him. I’m not so sure,” I teased.
“We better get on the court before I start daydreaming about having a pool of my own,” she said. She stopped stretching. “I’ll take the side with glare, if you serve first.”
“Sure, I’ll take the shaded side. Thanks.”
“Did I see you talking to Darla and Lacey from our supper club?” she asked, unzipping her tennis bag.
“Yes. It’s been a bit awkward to go to the dinners alone, but I haven’t been kicked out yet,” I said, walking onto the court.
“Nor will you. It’s not a requirement to bring a husband.”
“Maybe not, but I’m the only single person there.”
“Just because you’re divorced doesn’t mean you have to make new friends.” She slid on her visor. “Are you ready to play?”
“Let’s just hit back and forth first. I haven’t been out here in months.”
“You got it.”
Twenty minutes later, I wiped the sweat off my brow. “That’s it for me. You wore me out,” I said in a breathless voice.
As we stepped off the court, Jane said, “You did great. Let’s play again soon.”
“You were nice letting me win one game.” Just last year, she couldn’t get a game on me. I could play for hours. And now I was struggling to keep up with her.
“Don’t look up,” Jane said, glancing toward the balcony dining area full of people.
My smiled faded. “What are you talking about?”
She turned her attention back to me. “Trust me. Let’s just go.”
I quickly gathered my belongings and walked off the court. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of what upset Jane. Standing by the rail overlooking the courts, I saw her. It was a younger version of me, holding a baby.
I gasped. “When did Sabrina start coming to the club?” I lowered my voice. “She’s staring at us.” Why is she staring? She has my husband.
“Let’s just keep walking,” Jane warned. “I didn’t want you to have to deal with that sight. I saw her here last week and hoped you’d never cross paths. I’m especially sorry you saw her today.”
I sighed. “Now I can’t even relax on the tennis court.”
“It’s not surprising that your no-good ex-husband couldn’t find a different club to join.”
“I’m going home to finish my art project,” I said, approaching our cars. “Thanks for kicking my bottom on the courts.”
“Let’s play again soon. And next time, it’s all you,” she said. “Please call me or stop by if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” I said, closing the car door and fighting the urge to look in Sabrina’s direction. Really, what’s the point of dwelling on the past? But still, the image of her baby stayed with me. I wondered if Sabrina knew just how much her baby looked like Jenny at that age.
The next morning, I woke up with a feeling of inexplicable hope and a plan of action. Numerous times I had heard of holistic medicine but had never taken an interest in it—until now. I planned to see a nutrition specialist for a vitamin therapy regimen. Maybe acupuncture would be part of the plan and an occasional massage. And sleep—lots of rest to help my body rejuvenate.
This plan of action probably wasn’t going to shrink the growing tumor, but why not try?
Before I could think of other options, the telephone rang, startling me. As I fumbled to answer, I saw that it was Blake.
“Hello,” I said excitedly. I could hear the faint sound of Usher’s song “OMG” in the background.
“I’m missing you,” he said. I could picture him dancing in his boxer briefs. I wanted to rub my hands down his ripped abs.
I sighed. “I know we talk on the phone every day. But I want to snuggle up to you.”
“For now, I’m counting the days and nights until I see you again. Four days to be exact. I’ll check in with you later,” he said.
“It can’t get here soon enough for me. In fact, I am having my imaginary way with you right now.”
“Take it easy on me in your fantasy.” Blake laughed. “Better yet, be rough with me. Bye, babe.”
“Good-bye.”
Finally, the day arrived, for Blake, to set foot in my door. And when he did, I gasped because that first sight of him always took my breath away. Call it love; call it infatuation or simply raw desire. Nonetheless, his presence made my heart flutter.
Blake rushed over. He gave me a bear hug as if we had been apart for months and boomed, “I missed you, baby.” He smiled brightly, filling me with cheer. I felt the excitement in the air.
He scanned the room and saw a framed photograph of us back in college, just before a formal party. He walked over, picked up the photograph, and stared at it without blinking. “Is that really us?” he asked.
“I was wondering if you would notice that picture. I found it the other day. I thought you would get a kick out of seeing it. Does it take you down memory lane?” I asked, all ears.
Blake turned to face me. “You bet, like I’m racing full speed in my old Camaro with sexy you sitting next to me. We’re relaxed and happy like we don’t have a care in the world. You remember how it used to be?”
“I sure do.”
“Well, I would like a copy of it when you get a chance,” he said, putting the picture back on the table. “You know I tore up all of our old photos and sent them to you after we broke up, along with your shocking letter.”
I had to look away after that comment. “Yes, I remember that day clearly.” I refrained from giving him an earful about how angry those shredded pictures made me. Instead, I said cheerfully, focusing on today, “I packed my camera to take some new pictures this weekend. To better days . . . I’m ready, if you are.”
Blake gave me a bright grin. “Let’s start this new adventure.”
Chapter 9
Blake grabbed my bag and put his other arm around me, and we walked to his light blue Corvette parked on the driveway. We were leaving for our next destination, the Appalachian Mountains. As Blake slid into the driver’s seat, I gushed, “I love your new car. But please don’t drive faster than our guardian angels can keep up.”
He nodded. “This car has an incredible amount of power, but I promise I won’t use it all today. And if I do get pulled over, apparently saying, ‘I thought you wanted to race,’ is not, I repeat, not a good way to get out of a speeding ticket.”
I laughed. “Now you’re making me a little apprehensive about this trip,” I said, closing my door.
Driving out of Raleigh, we lowered our windows so we could enjoy the crisp October air. The mountain forecast predicted unseasonably low temperatures and snow. I leaned my head back on the beige leather seat and thought about how wonderful it was to begin another adventure. As soon as that thought crossed my mind, Blake leaned
over and caressed my leg.
Fortunately, we never ran out of conversation. A couple of hours into our trip, the Appalachian Mountains appeared to erupt from the landscape as we ascended the mountain highway. While journeying into the elevations, Blake reached for the control panel and turned on our heated seats.
Seeing the peaks hovering above us, from the crest of the first incline, reminded me how majestic nature can be in its varying forms. On this fall day, it was a true symphony of colors with vivid shades of red, yellow, orange, and green blending in harmony. The vantage point from this high elevation offered a sweeping spectacular panoramic view, and the rolling hills seemed to go on forever.
After talking effortlessly, like best friends, Blake cleared his throat nervously.
I glanced over. “Is everything all right?” I asked.
His jaw tensed. “You left me with so many words unspoken. I’m not sure if this is the right time to bring up the subject. But this question has tormented me for years,” he said.
My smile vanished. I shifted my weight in the seat, trying to feel more comfortable, but nothing worked.
I pressed the glass and felt the cold air seeping inside. Even with the cool air spilling into the car, I almost choked on the tension. We both knew this talk was inevitable, whether we liked it or not. A lot of questions had crossed our minds over the years. We needed to discuss the past because it was like a dark cloud looming over us.
I paused. “I guess we have some unfinished business to take care of, don’t we?” I asked. The trip was beginning to feel bittersweet.
Finally, Blake began to speak. “We were so much in love back then.” He looked at me with years of pent-up frustration visible on his strained face. “This question has always puzzled me. Why did you break up with me? I thought we were happy together. Were you angry about the scholarship?”
Suddenly, it was like being trapped in a heat wave. The tension was so thick that it altered my breathing rate.
I hesitated while trying to find the right words. “After I transferred, we were going to different colleges and had separate lives.”