Comfortable Distance

by Kenna White

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I know you don’t. I’m sorry but please, if you love me, don’t force this.”

  “Is that the problem, Dana? Is that why you moved out? Are you not satisfied with our sex life?” Shannon grabbed Dana’s arm and turned her around.

  “No. It isn’t the sex.”

  “Then what?” Shannon said, raising her voice.

  “I don’t know,” Dana replied as tears filled her eyes. “I just don’t know.”

  “You don’t know what’s wrong, but you know we can’t fuck. How am I supposed to understand this? How can I help if you won’t tell me what I should do?” Shannon stared at Dana.

  “I’m sorry!” Dana began to cry. She turned away, burying her face in her hands. As she sobbed, all Dana could hear was the door slamming behind Shannon.

  Chapter 15

  Jamie knocked on the door of the houseboat, expecting Dana to answer with her usual warm smile. When no one answered she knocked again. The miniblind moved and she heard the lock being turned. The door opened a crack and an eye appeared in the opening.

  “Hello, Jamie,” Juliana sniffled.

  “Hi, Juliana.” Jamie expected her to open the door and let her in, but she didn’t.

  “Aunt Dana isn’t here.” Her voice was weak and vulnerable.

  “Are you okay, Juliana?” Jamie squinted through the crack. Juliana’s eyes were red and swollen. She’d clearly been crying.

  “I can’t let you in. I’m not supposed to be here.”

  “Dana doesn’t know you’re here?”

  “No. You won’t tell her, will you?”

  Jamie immediately assessed the situation. Something was wrong. Juliana was upset and had fled to her Aunt Dana’s for refuge but no one was home.

  “That depends on what’s wrong. Why don’t you tell me why you’re hiding out in Dana’s houseboat? Then, we can decide how much of it she needs to know.” Jamie leaned closer and whispered through the opening. “Maybe we can figure it out together.”

  Juliana sniffled and slowly opened the door just enough for Jamie to slip through.The houseboat was dark and smelled stuffy. All the blinds were drawn. Juliana was wrapped in a blanket. The pillow on the sofa told Jamie she had been napping. Her hair looked like two otters had been fighting in it. Tearstains streaked her cheeks. Wadded tissue littered the floor next to the sofa. The head of a stuffed animal peeked out the top of the blanket that Juliana kept clutched around herself. Jamie thought it must be pretty severe if whatever was wrong warranted a stuffed animal for comfort. Juliana stood by the front door, the blanket wrapped up around her neck, exposing only her eyes, nose and the top if her head. She looked frightened.

  “Shall we open a couple of windows? I’m sure Dana wouldn’t mind,” Jamie said, raising the blinds over the table.

  “NO! Don’t,” Juliana said, covering her face with the blanket.

  “Why not? It’s stuffy in here.” Jamie raised one window a few inches and waved her hand in front of it, encouraging an exchange of air.

  “I don’t want anyone to know I’m here.”

  “Juliana, are you playing hooky?”

  “No. It’s still summer vacation.”

  “Then what’s the big mystery? Are you supposed to be doing something you don’t want to do?”

  “No,” she whined. “Do you know where my aunt is?”

  “No. I thought she’d be here. She left her jacket at my office and I was returning it.” Jamie hung the jacket over the bathroom doorknob. “Do you need her? I could call her on my cell and see where she is.” She unhooked her cell phone from her waistband.

  “Don’t do that,” Juliana insisted.

  “I could just tell her you’re here and find out when she’ll be back. I won’t say anything else,” Jamie said, hoping to reassure Juliana she was on her side.

  “She’d just freak out and rush home to see what’s wrong.”

  “Okay. I won’t call her, at least, not yet. But you’re going to have to give me a reason why I shouldn’t. I’m your friend, Juliana. If you’ve got a problem and your dad or aunt aren’t around to help you, I’ll be glad to listen. I’m a pretty fair listener. At least that’s what my students tell me.” Jamie winked.

  “You can’t help.” She peeked over the top of the blanket. “No one can.” She started to cry again.

  “I can try to help.” Jamie draped an arm around Juliana’s shoulders and held her as she cried. “Come sit on the sofa and tell me what’s wrong. You might be surprised. You’re smart and I’m older. Between the two of us, we might be able to figure it out.” Juliana cried even harder, burying her face against Jamie’s side. “Oh, sweetie,” Jamie cooed, wrapping her in a bear hug. “Don’t cry. It can’t be that bad.”

  “It is,” Juliana said, muffled against Jamie’s shirt. “It’s terrible. It’s worse than terrible.” She continued to sob, her tears and nose making a wet spot on Jamie’s shirt.

  “Let’s sit down and decide just how terrible we’re talking about here.” Jamie guided her to the sofa and sat down, Juliana still clinging to her side.

  “The worst kind,” she said, wiping her nose on the blanket.

  From her personal memory of being twelve, Jamie had made a mental list of possible catastrophes Juliana might be facing. Massive pimple breakout. A best friend moving away. Allowance reduction. Being grounded. At twelve, surely it couldn’t be a problem with her love life.

  “Could I have a hint?”

  “It’s way too bad to tell you,” she said dramatically.

  “Here’s how you do it. Pick a word to describe the problem. Just one word. The absolute worse thing you could say about it and spit it right out. That way you’ve got the bad part out of the way. For instance, if the problem was about a boyfriend, you just say Mike or Josh or whatever his name is. Just spit his name right out there. Now, I’m going to count to three. When I get there, you say the word and we’ll take it from there. What do you say?” Jamie smiled encouragement.

  “Okay,” Juliana said meekly.

  “Here we go.” Jamie kept an arm around her for support. “One, two, three.”

  “Even if it’s really, really bad, you won’t hate me?”

  “I promise.” Jamie held up her hand as a pledge.

  “Okay. I’m ready.” Juliana hunched her shoulders as if bracing herself.

  “One, two, and three.”

  “Cancer,” Juliana said then turned her face up to Jamie. “I’ve got cancer, Jamie.” She said it as if the weight of the world was on her young head.

  “WHAT?!” Jamie gasped.

  “It’s true. I’ve got cancer. It’s the really bad kind. Libby’s mom has cancer. She has to wear a bandana because all her hair fell out. My hair has already started to fall out.” Juliana’s chin quivered as she told her fate.

  “Does Dana know about this?”

  “No one knows yet.”

  “Who told you you’ve got cancer, Juliana?”

  “It’s one of those things you just know,” she said fearfully.

  “Juliana.” Jamie combed her fingers through the child’s tangled hair. “Just because you are losing some of your hair doesn’t mean you have cancer.”

  “Oh, I know.”

  “What makes you think you have cancer?”The fear Jamie felt with Juliana’s first statement was fading. The word cancer held a powerful sense of dread. She didn’t want to belittle Juliana’s problem but Jamie was beginning to think the diagnosis was just a little premature.

  “I just know it, Jamie.”

  “How long have you had the symptoms?” Jamie decided to try a different tack. “A long time or just a few days?”

  “Not very long.”

  “How long?”

  “Since last night.”

  “That recent? Sweetie, where is your cancer? All over or in just one place?”

  “My stomach.” Jamie could tell even through the blanket, Juliana was holding her lower gut.

  “
Juliana,” Jamie said, locking a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear. “Have you been throwing up and had diarrhea?” “No. That just means you have an upset stomach. This is worse. Way worse.”

  Jamie had eliminated the most obvious ailments. There was another possibility.Diagnosing this would open a box of questions she wasn’t sure she was the right person to answer.

  “Sweetie, did it start with cramps way down low in your tummy?”

  “Yes. Really bad ones.”

  “Then you got out of bed and there was blood on the sheets?”

  Juliana looked up at Jamie with terrified eyes and trembling chin.

  “Yes. There was blood everywhere. Tons of it. I’ll probably need a trans, trans, trans-something.”

  “Transfusion?”

  “Yes. Libby’s mom had one. That’s where they give you more blood from somebody else. But it doesn’t hurt. Libby said her mom was listening to her iPod and writing Christmas cards while she had one.”

  Jamie bit down on her lip to keep from smiling her relief. What Jamie suspected Juliana had was a very rude and early introduction to her menstrual cycle.

  “Juliana, I don’t think you have cancer. In fact, I’m sure of it,” she said confidently.

  “Yes, I do, Jamie. My whole insides are leaking out.”

  “I think what you are experiencing is your first menstrual cycle. You’re a little young. It usually starts around thirteen or fourteen but some girls start early. And your first time can be a shock.”

  “You mean my period?” Her eyes widened.

  “Yes.”

  “I know all about that. We had a movie in school about it. But mine is much worse. The teacher said we would lose about two tablespoons of blood. I’ve lost way more than two tablespoons. I’m telling you, it was gallons and gallons. It was everywhere.” She extended her arms from under the blanket and broadcast them.

  “Sweetie, has anyone talked with you about starting your period? Told you what you need to do?”

  “Dad brought me some panty liners you stick on the inside of your underwear. He put the box under the sink in the bathroom. That’s how I know this is not just my period. I’m bleeding way too much for panty liners. I’d need a whole box.”

  “Are you wearing anything now?” Jamie asked, resisting the urge to check Dana’s couch.

  “Not those tiny liner things. They’re useless.”

  “What then?”

  “Don’t tell but I’m using one of Aunt Dana’s hand towels. I used three from home. I threw them away. I don’t want anyone to get my cancer.”

  “Juliana, you do not have cancer,” Jamie said, intercepting another onslaught of tears. “You have started your period. That’s all. I know it seems like you’re going to bleed to death sometimes but you really haven’t lost that much blood. I don’t want to go into details but take it from me, a veteran of many a monthly campaign, you are just doing what all women do. I know it’s gross and messy. But it will get easier.”

  “You still have your period? I thought old people didn’t do it anymore.”

  “Sure.” Jamie chuckled. “I’m not that old. And I bet your Aunt Dana has them too. Most women have them until they’re fifty or so. It’s one of those cruel jokes of nature. Even when the factory is abandoned the plumbing still works.”

  “You mean I’ll bleed like this for forty years?” Juliana gasped in horror.

  “No. It won’t always be like your first one.” Jamie saw no reason to scare the child. “You’ll have some months when you barely know you’re having a visit from your friend.”

  “Friend?”

  “That’s what some girls call it.” Jamie wasn’t going to tell her what that meant either. She would leave sex education to her family.

  The rattle of the doorknob caught their attention. The door opened and Dana stepped in, gasping in surprise.

  “Hello,” Jamie said.

  “Hi, Aunt Dana.”

  “Hello. Should I be expecting company?”

  “I stopped by to return your jacket,” Jamie said, standing up. “You left it in my office that time you came to see me.”

  “Oh,” Dana said, staring down at Juliana. “Honey, what are you doing here? Are you okay?”

  Juliana looked up at Jamie.

  “Juliana would like to have a little talk with you. She isn’t feeling well and could use a bit of support.”

  “Are you sick?” Dana dropped her purse on the sofa and felt Juliana’s forehead. “Do you have a temperature? You look pale.”

  “She doesn’t have a temperature. That isn’t where the problem lies.”

  “Do you have a stomachache?” Dana asked, sitting next to her on the sofa and stroking her face. Juliana nodded feebly. “Did you eat something that didn’t agree with you? Let me see if I have some Pepto-Bismol.” Dana headed for the bathroom.

  “Maybe you should see if you have any Midol instead,” Jamie said, smiling down at Juliana.

  “Midol?” Dana asked curiously then looked over at her niece. “Juliana? Oh, my gosh. Midol?” Dana rushed back to the sofa and took Juliana’s face in her hands. “You’ve started your period?” Dana made it sound like she had just won an Olympic medal. “When?”

  “Last night,” Juliana said only slightly less than tragically.

  “Oh, honey.” She wrapped her in a hug. “That’s wonderful.” Dana held onto Juliana but rolled her eyes up to Jamie and grimaced as if to say this was a surprise.

  “I have to go,” Jamie said, opening the door.

  “You don’t have to leave,” Dana said.

  “I’m interviewing a new lab tech in an hour.” She checked her watch. “By the way, Juliana may need to discuss adequate and appropriate feminine supplies.”

  “Thank you, Jamie,” Dana said. “I appreciate your help and concern. Juliana does too, don’t you, honey?”

  Juliana peeked out of Dana’s hug and nodded.

  “Thank you, Jamie,” she said.

  “You’re welcome, kiddo. Anytime.” She gave her a wink. “And Dana, drop me an e-mail and let me know how things are going with your dilemma.” She smiled then left, closing the door behind her.

  Chapter 16

  For the next two weeks Dana and Jamie e-mailed back and forth about everything from Jamie’s research to Dana’s family and her work on Ringlet. Dana was not afraid to reveal her innermost feelings and fears about what she should do. In return, Jamie offered understanding and support. Her advice opened Dana’s eyes and let her guide herself. Jamie asked how Dana felt when she was with Shannon. How did she feel when they were apart? What were Shannon’s good points and her bad? She encouraged Dana to be honest with herself. And for her efforts, Dana seemed happy, happier than she had been in months.

  It was midmorning when Dana took her laptop out onto the deck, sat cross-legged in the wicker rocker and opened Jamie’s e-mail.

  Good morning. What’s new in Budd Bay? Let me guess. You’re sitting on the deck, sipping coffee and drawing cartoons? -- J.H.

  Dana grinned as she opened a reply page.

  Good morning, Jamie. You’re close. All but the cartoon thing. I did that earlier. I’m taking a break. How about you? How’s the algae? You said you were having trouble with the tests. Anything I can do? Of course, I wouldn’t know an algae if I met one but I’m willing to offer assistance. It’s only fair. After all, you have been there for me. -Dana.

  Dana sent it, laughing at what Jamie was going to think. The reply took only a minute.

  I’ll be glad to introduce you to one of the algae species next time you come to the lab. Any plans to do that? P.S. Loved Ringlet yesterday.

  - J.H.

  Dana smiled curiously as she wrote her reply.

  I didn’t know Ringlet was being carried in biology journals. Or is the professor actually reading real people magazines? I can’t believe it. I have actually influenced the scientific community after all. Ringlet will be pleased. -Dana.

  Dana hit the send key then went
to make a cup of coffee, expecting Jamie’s reply to be waiting when she returned but she had nothing in her inbox.After several minutes she was beginning to think she had said something wrong.

  Are you there? - Dana

  She sent the message and waited again. A few minutes later, an e-mail popped up.

  Yes. Sorry. I was attacked by a rampant herd of algae. –J.H.

  Dana burst out laughing and sent a reply.

  Explain, please. Do I need to send paramedics? -Dana

  Another few minutes went by before Jamie replied.

  I spilled a beaker of algae suspension down my pants, converting clean tan slacks into a lovely asparagus green color. –J.H.

  Dana quickly replied.

  My sincerest sympathy. Might I suggest you go change? -Dana I may have to do that. But first tell me what you drew for Ringlet. I could use a good laugh. –J.H. I’ve scanned them into the computer. I’ll e-mail you one. –Dana

  Dana looked through the sketches she had entered, deciding which one to send. She chose the one with Ringlet curled up on the foot of her human’s bed. It was the middle of the night. The woman was sound asleep with her mouth open and she was snoring loudly. Ringlet’s ears were back and her forehead was furrowed disgustedly as she watched her human sleep. The bubble over Ringlet’s head read: She can make THAT noise but I can’t bark at the mailman. Go figure.

  Dana attached the cartoon to her e-mail and sent it to Jamie. She sat back and waited for her reply. It didn’t take long.

  LOLOLOL I love it. GREAT CARTOON!!! How did you know I snore like that? –J.H.

  Everybody snores, don’t they? I’m sure I snore loud enough to keep the seagulls off the roof. -Dana

  Dana waited but there was no reply. A few minutes later her cell phone rang. It was Jamie.

  “Hello, Dr. Algae pants.” Dana said with a little giggle. “What’s the matter? Are you getting writer’s cramp?” She loved the way she and Jamie could joke about almost anything.

  “Yes. As a matter of fact, I am.” She laughed. “But it wasn’t from e-mailing you. I’ve been working on a report.”

  “A report on what? And remember I’m not a science brain so use small words.”