My Once and Future Love

by Carla Krae

“Thank you. Bye.”

  She hung up and I set my phone on the cradle with a sigh.

  Maybe Mom was making something good for dinner.

  ****

  Jacob called Beth back every time she left a message, but he never seemed to reach a time in her schedule when she was home, or not asleep. The time difference was on a sticky note next to the phone, but hell, he could barely keep track of his own schedule, let alone hers. Might be his lack of touch with time lately, but she seemed to be out more this semester, too. Was it the classes, or had she met new people?

  He tried to recall if she’d mentioned new names.

  “Hey, Jake, that’s us!”

  “Yeah.” He slung his guitar on and walked onstage. The crowd roared. After two months they were becoming a well-known bar band.

  One more concert with Bethie in his heart.

  The set would’ve amped him up last summer, but all he wanted now was his bed. Every gig left him exhausted as he put his all into giving the crowd the best damn show they’d see that weekend on the off chance a scout was in the back. Their manager kept saying big things would happen soon.

  If he survived that long. Carrie drove him home.

  ****

  Another breast lump. One big enough to be a marble and invading one of her ribs.

  When the biopsy came back as cancer again, I felt betrayed.

  “How is it this big so soon?” I asked her doctor.

  “Cancer can be unpredictable. With an aggressive strain like your mother’s, things can progress quite rapidly. Of course, without any follow-up treatment after the last surgery, I couldn’t guarantee a non-recurrence.”

  “What follow-up treatment? Mom?”

  She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I didn’t feel the size of the tumor warranted chemotherapy.”

  “God, you’ve been in denial the whole time, haven’t you? I can’t believe you’d do this to us.”

  I stormed out of the office and didn’t stop until the parking lot, so mad I was almost seeing red and kicked a trash can, then the hubcap of a car. Ow.

  She told us she was cured. Told us she was healthy and done with cancer. She lied. She knew the risks and gambled with our family for…what?

  “Elizabeth.”

  “Don’t. Not now.” I was trembling, tears and adrenaline fighting for dominance, and I didn’t want to regret what I did or said next.

  “The door’s unlocked.”

  I wouldn’t look at her. “I’m going back to school.” Hell, we were at UCLA Medical Center. The bus would suit me fine.

  She didn’t argue; a testament to her guilt. She would’ve ordered me in the car if she felt she had a leg to stand on.

  Soon as I got in my dorm room, I called Jacob. Didn’t matter what time it was, today of all days I needed him. The line connected.

  Laughter was the first thing I heard. Husky, alto, female laughter. “Jake’s place. He’s in the shower so he can’t come to the phone right now.”

  Had to have dialed wrong. I looked at the phone display.

  “Hello?” she said.

  I glanced at the clock. 6:10PM.

  “Hello?”

  That meant it was two in the morning in London. Two in the morning with a sexy-Irish-accent-voiced female answering my boyfriend’s phone while he’s in the shower. On a Saturday.

  Meant she went home with him from a gig.

  “Is anyone there?”

  No…oh, God, not today…not today…

  I curled in a ball on my floor and sobbed.

  There’d never been such pain. Words couldn’t describe the feeling of breaking apart—of literally breaking into pieces inside. The phone buzzed with the dial tone then started putting out the, if you’d like to make a call message. My hands couldn’t be bothered to shut it off.

  I had no sense of time until morning light shone through my window.

  Losing Mom and Jacob…I don’t know how I got through that week. Probably looked like a zombie. When Jacob left one of his “hey, sorry I missed you” messages, the tears started to well again and I deleted it.

  Michelle was the only person I told about that call. “God, Beth, I’m so sorry,” she said after I blubbered all over her shoulder. “That bastard. What are you going to do?”

  “F-forget. My family comes first…and I’ll need all my…my extra to pass my classes. I can’t deal with…with…” I fell apart again.

  She wrapped her arms around me. “You don’t have to. From now on, he’s He Who Shall Not Be Named. Except he no longer exists in this sphere. And if he bothers you, hand him over to me.”

  “Thanks…”

  When Jacob started to say “hey, why haven’t you called me back” I threw out the answering machine. I couldn’t hear his excuses…not now.

  ****

  Jacob stormed into his mother’s house. “Maybe you can tell me why Beth won’t return my calls!”

  She set down the newspaper and arched a brow. “Good morning to you, too. What did you do?”

  “Nothing, Mother! I called back after her last messages and I’ve left messages since, until today the phone just rings and rings like she disconnected the machine. I have no bloody clue what’s going on.”

  “Darling, I’m as in the dark as you are. We converse by letter and I haven’t received one in days.”

  “Well, maybe she’ll pick up the phone for you.”

  “I’ll ring when it’s a suitable hour, but Jacob, we don’t shout in this house.”

  “Yes, Mum.” He sat in the chair across from her. “I’m scared…what if she’s been in some horrible accident?”

  “Have you tried calling her parents’ house?”

  “No… I could worry them for nothing.”

  She sighed and moved next to him. “Do you want me to send you back to California?”

  He shook his head. “Not unless there’s an emergency. I can’t take the time off school for a question.”

  “Are you missing class now?”

  “No. You’ll call tonight?”

  She squeezed his hand. “I promise. I’m sure she’s fine.”

  He nodded, kissed her cheek, and left.

  Scenarios had been running through his mind for two weeks, getting darker and more disturbing as time passed with still no answer. Beth never missed her time to call him. Consistency and punctuality were defining traits. Maybe she was just super busy with a project. Maybe she’d missed paying her phone bill. Maybe his phone was having issues and not connecting her calls. But what if she was sick or hurt?

  What if she met someone else and didn’t have the courage to tell him it was over? No…if she wanted to break up, she’d make sure he knew, especially if he pissed her off.

  Mum called right after he got home from his last class. “I couldn’t reach Elizabeth, but I spoke to her mother.”

  “And?”

  “She said she saw her yesterday. Elizabeth is fine.”

  “Did you ask her why Beth isn’t returning calls?”

  “No. She didn’t have long to chat. You’ll just have to keep trying, dear, maybe from the house phone.”

  “Yeah.” Dammit. “Let me know if you get mail.”

  “Sleep well, Jacob. I’m sure this will blow over.”

  “Goodnight, Mum.” He hung up.

  Sleep might come, but it wouldn’t be good. His dreams had been more like nightmares the past few days.

  “Why didn’t I tell her I love her when I had the chance?”

  He kept calling, trying her dorm at all hours, then finally leaving a message at her parents’ house.

  A letter did come the next time post was delivered.

  His mother was at the door, envelope in hand, when he arrived. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

  He tore open the flap. One sheet of white printer paper was inside. He opened the folds. One sentence was written in the middle: Stop calling me. No explanation, no signature…she didn’t even bother to yell at him.

  “Jacob? What’s wrong
?” His mother rushed to his side and brushed wetness off his cheek.

  He hadn’t felt the tears. “I’ll be outside.” He broke away from her and strode to the garden door, slamming it behind him

  There wasn’t enough garden to outrun how he felt and when he reached the old cottage, he punched the wall, kicked the door, then slid to the cold ground wondering what the hell happened.

  “No, I’m not giving up. If she wants to end this, she’ll have to say it.”

  So, he sent e-mails, kept calling, and finally tried her folks’ house again.

  “Lawson residence.” The man had a deeper voice than her father’s.

  “I’d like to speak to Beth.”

  “Who’s calling?”

  “Jacob Lindsey.”

  “Oh, you. Stop harassing my sister.” So this was Andrew. In California?

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. Leave Beth alone.”

  “Is she there?”

  “She’s out.” Bullshit.

  “Sure she is. We’ve known each other for over six years, mate. She owes me an explanation.”

  “You made her cry. She doesn’t owe you anything.”

  “I made her cry? Made her? I’ve done nothing all semester but work my ass off for her! Is. She. There?”

  “No. She’s at the hospital.”

  His stomach clenched—what if her avoidance was because she was sick? “Is she alright?”

  “She’s healthy, if that’s what you want to know. Leave her alone, or next time I make you cry.”

  “That a threat?”

  “A promise. Good bye.”

  Jacob heard the click of the phone placed in the cradle, ending the call. Son of a bitch…who did that wanker think he was? Barely in her life for ten years and suddenly he thinks he’ll play big brother? And why now of all times?

  Left with more questions than answers, he left phone calls to his mother and tried writing.

  His letters were returned unopened and the e-mails never received replies.

  By the end of the term, he gave up and accepted he and Beth were no more. Always thought they’d go out with a bang instead of a whimper.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I went to every oncologist visit and took notes. Never again would I trust my mother with relaying all the necessary information. The doctors might hate seeing me come through the door with all my questions, but hell or high water; she was beating this if I had to do it for her.

  They started her on radiation and chemo right away. I cut out everything I didn’t have to be doing to focus on my mother and made sure Andrew was in the loop, too. He was coming to L.A. as soon as he could.

  I wanted to take a leave of absence, but Mom wouldn’t hear of it.

  “I will not be the reason you don’t get a degree, Elizabeth Lawson.”

  She was propped up in a hospital bed, tubes everywhere. Her weakened immune system had allowed her to catch an infection they were treating with IV antibiotics. The infection scared me even more. Thousands of people died from hospital infections every year.

  “But Mom--”

  “Honey, please. Be young, live, have fun. Call Jacob.”

  “I can’t do that. You need me.”

  “Let me know my kids are going to be okay when I’m gone, will you?”

  “Don’t talk like that. You’re going to beat this.”

  She coughed, and wiped a little blood from her chapped lips. “You heard the doctors, Elizabeth. And I’m okay. You and your brother are wonderful adults, and your father and I had a lot of great years.”

  “Years he honors by not being here.”

  Ever since the doctors upgraded her cancer stage, Dad had taken every business trip offered to him, and when he did spend time at the hospital, it wasn’t long. He brought her flowers and left again.

  “He’ll come when it’s time. Until then, try to understand, Beth. This is very hard on him. Maybe harder than it is for me.”

  “Aren’t families supposed to support each other in times of crisis? Andrew’s on a plane right now.”

  “Elizabeth, please. Enough.” She sounded close to tears.

  Guilt struck my heart. “Yes, Mom. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m going to get some air.”

  She nodded and closed her eyes.

  Despite Mom’s chemo treatments, they discovered it was spreading. We practically lived at the hospital after that. I wouldn’t forget seeing my mother bald and skeletal. Just like I knew I’d never forgive my father if he wasn’t here if she died.

  When.

  My throat closed up at the thought of that word. I knew what I saw…the degradation, the sympathy on the doctor’s faces, the calm acceptance my mother recently showed…I knew it was when, but God…no one wanted to admit it.

  No one wanted to say they were going to lose their mother at eighteen. I was firmly stuck in the Anger stage of grief, if for no other reason than it was easier than Despair.

  The platitudes and sympathetic smiles…school was a sanctuary. My professors knew I had a family emergency, but only Michelle and Chris knew what was really going on. I stopped socializing outside of classrooms and study groups. Anything frivolous got cut from my life. Free time gave me room to think and I just couldn’t handle that.

  ****

  Jacob did what any artist did with pain—channeled it into his work. Songs once filled with love and happiness and hope took a darker turn as he poured out his shredded heart. Angry guitar lines accompanied the lyrics and the fans loved the new raw sound.

  Oh, irony.

  It wasn’t Beth’s belief that propelled his rise to fame—it was her cruelty. The sheer cowardice of not giving him a clean break-up pissed him off and he channeled every bit of that energy into his performances. Always knew he’d thank her if he got a break, but not like this…never like this.

  He squeaked by the rest of the term for his mother’s sake and pulled his application to join a Los Angeles university in the fall. No need to go to California now.

  ****

  Two weeks after my nineteenth birthday in late May, Mom slipped into a coma. Sometimes she opened her eyes and babbled incoherently, but she never showed signs of recognizing we were there. The cancer had invaded her lungs and nearly everything else and it was only a matter of time.

  The three of us surrounded her bed when they shut off the machines. She’d been out of it for a while, the machines and tubes the only things keeping her alive the past week. Andrew held my hand. Dad stood next to the doctor as she flipped the switches and all the beeps and wheezes and hums fell silent.

  I kissed Mom’s cheek while she was still warm.

  At the hospital we settled in to wait. That was what you did in hospitals. You waited. People went past and you watched but you didn’t. Instead, you focused on the wall, on trying to decide what the exact shade of paint was and wondering if the people in the room knew your mother just died.

  We made the choices for her funeral as a family, but Andrew and I were the ones voicing them. My father seemed to have gone numb. Normal, I guess, but not helpful. Andrew and I opted for a closed casket. Most of her friends had last seen her before it got bad, so we chose a good picture and had it blown up to set on an easel at the mortuary.

  Days passed. I know because I kept crossing things off my checklists.

  I did things. I drew lines. I kept going. She needed me to finish this.

  It was a lovely service and Mom had many friends, but if I had to say “thank you for coming” to one more person, I would have screamed. Was there a list somewhere of Approved Things to Say to the Bereaved? "I'm so sorry for your loss" seemed to be right up there. At least it was heartfelt, even if the words were empty. "She'll be missed" was another, and usually from someone who couldn't possibly miss her more than I did.

  She was fine before. Better. Things were...and now we'll never have hot chocolate again, and laugh, or go shopping. She'll never come home with another story about a gallery, or greet me whe
n I come home for the weekend.

  She was gone. Really, really gone and I never got to say enough.

  It was only after the funeral, after packing up Mom’s things, after returning to school, that I realized I’d forgotten Jacob entirely for months. I never called or wrote him about what was going on.

  ****

  Summer was filled with more than a few post-gig drunken parties where he woke up not knowing where he was. Mum dropped by one morning when he was nursing another hangover.

  “Son, you can’t keep going like this.”

  “I’m fine. Selling out every gig.” He shuffled to the refrigerator for an energy drink.

  “I’m not talking about your career, Jacob. You love her, don’t you?”

  “Past tense. And I told you I don’t want to bloody talk about her.” He guzzled the drink and wiped his chin.

  “This isn’t the way to deal with heartbreak, Jacob. When was the last night you stayed sober?”

  He glared at her. “I’m not an alcoholic.”

  “I didn’t say you were, but…darling, I hate seeing you in pain. You need to let this out before it consumes you.”

  “That’s all I do on stage, Mum! Five months and it still doesn’t make a lick o’ sense. I lost…there’s a hole and nothin’ makes it better, so I keep pourin’ my heart out night after night until somethin’ changes. God willing something changes.”

  Her eyes mirrored his pain. “Come stay at the house for a while. You’re not alone in this.”

  Jacob shook his head. “I’ll be fine. Just a bad week.”

  “You head back to school soon?”

  “Should I?” What was the point anymore?

  “If you want your trust fund on your next birthday, you will. It’s your last year, Jacob! How can you think of quitting now?”

  “I don’t care! Don’t care about any of it. We’re this close to getting a deal, Mum. I don’t need a degree to get a recording contract.”

  “There are no guarantees you’ll get one, either. You need something to fall back on and I did not raise you to take the easy road. I know Elizabeth hurt you, but that’s not an excuse for your conduct this summer. You’re capable of better.” She opened his front door. “I hope to hear you are in attendance on the first day of school.”

  She left, and he threw the empty can across the apartment. Damn her for bringing up her name.