by Patti Berg
“Do you really think you have the energy for that?”
Fern’s jaw tightened. Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t even go there, James Bell. This is our weekend. A fun time for just you and me, and if you worry even one more second about me having the energy to do it, I’m not going to tell you the best part of it all.”
James threw up his hands in surrender. “All right. No more worrying. No more cares. Just you and me and Chicago this weekend. So what’s the pièce de résistance?”
“Close your eyes and hold out your hand.”
They hadn’t played games in years, but he wasn’t about to laugh at his wife’s demand. He closed his eyes and held out his hand. It seemed forever before he felt the paper in his palm. It barely weighed an ounce, if that. What could it be?
“Okay, you can look now.”
James opened his eyes and saw the envelope. He opened it and pulled out—“How on earth did you get these?”
“Connections I didn’t even know I had until that Walk for a Cure meeting on Monday. Valera Kincaid from the Dispatch got them for me through a friend of a friend who has a connection.”
James shook his head in disbelief. “Fifth-row seats straight across from the free-throw line for the Bulls. It’s the opening game of the season too. Against the Lakers. Oh man.” James shoved out of his chair and threw his arms around his wife. “We are going to have the time of our lives.”
“Yep.” Fern smiled. “Peanuts, popcorn, and Cracker Jack.”
James hugged her even more tightly, thinking he might just never let her go. “Anything you want, my dear. The weekend is all yours…and mine.”
“Did James like your surprise?” Elena asked, when she found Fern already inside Once Upon a Time at 3:30 that afternoon. The kitschy vintage shop was a favorite haunt of Elena’s. She loved the tinkle of the crystals when she walked through the door, the way the pink chandelier sent shards of reflected light about the place, and the crooning voice of Perry Como playing on their sound system. And the jewelry and clothes. Oh my!
“He loved it. What man wouldn’t love some of the best seats in the house at a Chicago Bulls game?”
Fern spun around, a red 1950s sweater set pressed against the pink sweater set she was already wearing with faded blue jeans and a pair of dark blue flats. She turned to look at herself and the once-loved two-piece sweater in the mirror. She wrinkled her nose. “A little too bright, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know, it looks perfect to me. Then, again, I like red.”
“Well, it is one of the Chicago Bulls’ colors, but I think I want something different, something a little less me.”
Elena couldn’t believe Fern’s comment. She looked just great. “Is it you who wants to try something different,” she asked, “maybe something daring, or are you wanting to try a new style because you think James might like it?”
Fern put the red sweater set back on the rack. “He’s been living with the old me for over twenty years. I thought—”
“You know, Fern, that husband of yours is madly in love with you. I see it every time he mentions your name—every time you’re together. I’m sure he’d love you even if you wore a potato sack. But if I were you, I’d go with your gut instincts. Wear what you feel comfortable in.”
“Are you always such a voice of wisdom?”
Elena shook her head. “That’s Anabelle’s department. I’m the let’s-go-get-’em type. I jump in even if something’s over my head.”
“That’s exactly the way I want to be when I grow up.”
They laughed, then spent the next half hour looking at just about every piece of clothing in a size 2, anything that would fit Fern’s itsy-bitsy frame. They giggled almost like schoolgirls and chatted, trying on old hats and a moth-eaten fur that really should have gone to the dump fifty years ago.
“What about this?” Elena asked, holding up the softest cashmere sweater she’d ever drooled over.
“It’s beautiful.”
“And it’s so you.” Elena pulled it off the padded hanger and handed the dark raspberry–colored sweater to Fern, and then waited anxiously as she went into the dressing room to try it on. When Fern stepped out from behind the curtain, Elena was blown away. She even managed to whistle. “That is the most gorgeous sweater I’ve ever seen on anyone, except maybe Mary Tyler Moore when she was on the Dick Van Dyke Show.”
Fern twisted toward the mirror. “You think so?”
Elena nodded. “I know it’s simple, but you can dress it up or down depending on your mood or what you wear it with.”
“I have a pair of skinny black pants—kind of Mary Tyler Moore–style.”
“Perfect.”
“And pearls?”
Elena studied the sweater and Fern’s brown eyes. “I’m not sure. Let’s see what they have in the jewelry department—something in rhinestones, maybe, but not gaudy.”
The woman working in the store watched them like a hawk. She must have been new because Elena was a regular customer and the regular girls knew she could spend hours in the store, trying on kitschy jewelry and buying pieces she couldn’t do without.
In the end they decided no necklace was the way to go, with a simple pair of fake ruby stud earrings and a matching bracelet, both delicate, which fit Fern to a tee.
“What about you, Elena? You didn’t buy a thing,” Fern said when her retro wardrobe was wrapped in tissue, placed in a Once Upon a Time bag, and paid for.
“I didn’t really need anything.” Elena smiled. “I just like to shop.”
“I haven’t shopped this way in years and years. I might not be cured, but right now, I feel like I’ve been given a new lease on life.”
Fern’s excitement was infectious, making Elena smile and want to spend even more time in her company. “We’ll have to do it more often.”
“It’s a date.”
Fifteen minutes later they were sitting at a corner booth in the quietest spot inside the Diner on the Corner. A few minutes after that, Fern sipped coffee and Elena stared at hers. She felt good. No, she felt terrific. She didn’t want to spoil the moment.
And, of course, she hoped she wouldn’t spoil their friendship by telling Fern her problems.
But it was Fern who spoke up first. “Are you okay, Elena?” The excitement that had been in Fern’s eyes had now changed to concern. “I know you told me after Monday’s meeting that you were fine, but, I hate to say this…I don’t believe you.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“I don’t see you day in and day out like James does, so I can’t tell you one way or another. But James has mentioned the circles under your eyes, and you definitely have circles. He told me the other night that he thought you’d been losing weight, and that’s not something he’d normally notice. So…have you?”
Elena nodded. She picked up her spoon and stirred her coffee, as she told Fern what was wrong. “The thought of eating turns my stomach. If I do eat—even when I don’t—I feel totally bloated.”
“And what happened at the ball game?” Fern frowned. “I could have sworn you doubled over in pain when you went down on the court to give your speech.”
“Okay, I admit it.” She couldn’t hold back any longer. “I haven’t been feeling well. Not so bad that I can’t function, but still…Cesar went with me to the doctor on Tuesday, and I’m having an abdominal CT scan tomorrow.” Elena sighed, fighting back the tears, even though she knew Fern would understand if she started to cry. “Please don’t tell James.”
“I won’t. Not if you don’t want me to.” Fern reached across the table and clasped Elena’s hand. “Does the doctor have any clue what’s wrong?”
“A lot of clues, but no positive diagnosis. He named off a list nearly a mile long of possibilities, and in the end…” Elena’s voice quivered. “He mentioned cancer.”
Fern stilled. That was a word no one wanted to hear. “Oh, Elena. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s only a possibility. He doesn’t even kno
w if the CT scan will show what’s really going on. I just have to wait and see.”
“And worry.” Fern squeezed Elena’s hand tighter. “The first time my legs gave out from under me, I was scared half out of my wits. It seemed to take forever before I was diagnosed with MS, and then it seemed forever to find the right medicines, the right therapy. James was awfully worried. Cesar must be worried too.”
“He can’t sleep. I can’t either.”
Fern smiled softly, understanding completely. “Did you tell your doctor that?”
Elena frowned at the suggestion.
“I know, I know,” Fern said, a hint of laughter in her voice. “You’re a nurse, and you know your body, and you really and truly know how to take care of yourself. At least that’s what James tells me when he isn’t feeling well. But don’t hold anything back. Get on the phone tomorrow and call your doctor. Tell him you can’t sleep.”
“I don’t want to take any unnecessary medicine.”
“You won’t be able to do your job if you can’t get a good night’s sleep. Some people might tell you to take it easy, to take naps during the day; but right now, you need to focus on something other than the tests and the what ifs.”
“I’ve tried.”
“When you’re tired, your mind goes places it shouldn’t go. You begin to worry too much. Worry causes stress. Stress keeps you from sleeping.” Fern shrugged, laughing lightly. “It’s a vicious cycle.”
Elena shook her head at Fern’s wisdom, but she wasn’t surprised by it. “Have you ever thought about being a psychologist? Because you’re really good at counseling people.”
“I’m just telling you what I wish someone had told me when I was first diagnosed. But I didn’t turn to anyone, and like I told you earlier today, I was angry. That didn’t do me any good. If I’d had a support group, I’m sure I would have been much better off.”
“Why didn’t you start one?”
“Me?”
“Yes, you.”
“I’m not sure that’s my style. I don’t usually start things, especially groups where I’m in charge. I was great in school and I’m good with math and money; but I’m not a leader, and I wouldn’t even know how to start a group.”
“I don’t see why not. It’s a piece of cake, really. I’m the queen of starting groups.”
Fern frowned, deep in thought. “You know, there isn’t an MS support group here locally. There’s one in Peoria, and I might have gone to that one, if it hadn’t been such a long drive. There is one online, but that’s too impersonal. Maybe, if I had some help, I could start one here in Deerford.”
“Tell you what. As soon as the Walk for a Cure is over, I’m all yours.” Elena smiled. “If you want to start an MS support group, I’ll help you. I might even need to start one for people with cancer one of these days.”
“Oh, I certainly hope not.”
“Well, until I know one way or another, could I use you as a sounding board?”
“Anytime, Elena. That’s what friends are for.”
Chapter Fifteen
WITH HER READING GLASSES RESTING CLOSE TO THE end of her nose, Anabelle sat at the desk in the Cardiac Care Unit nurses’ station, looking from the scheduling notes she’d made to requests from her nurses for time off in November and December, and transferring notes to the actual schedule, which was kept on the computer. Life had been so much easier before electronic brains became a mainstay in the hospital.
Where did the year go? she wondered as she looked at the vacation requests from the RNs who worked in the CCU. It seemed like only yesterday she had been scheduling summer vacations, which were a piece of cake compared with the holiday season. Nearly everyone wanted to be off on Thanksgiving and Christmas—if not the entire day, at least part of it. She shook her head as she made the big decisions on who would get their request and who would have to sacrifice their time with family to be at the hospital.
There were going to be a lot of unhappy campers, and she was going to be one very unpopular supervisor when she sent out the finished schedule.
She glanced at her watch. It was already a quarter past three and technically she should have been on her way home, but it was Friday and she wanted to get this done before she left for the weekend.
When her cell phone rang, she fumbled in her lab coat for it and answered quickly, anything to stop the Lone Ranger ring tone Cameron had programmed into it so she’d always know when he was the one calling. When Kirstie called, she heard the creepy sound from Jaws, since Kirstie had worked at the Shedd Aquarium last summer; Ainslee’s was a familiar bit of music from the Nutcracker Suite; Evan’s was simply a plain old ring, because Cam had run out of clever ideas.
“Hi, hon,” she said, leaning back in her chair, wishing she could put her feet up for just a moment or two, but that would have to wait until tonight. She had to head straight to the nursery when she left the hospital to help put the finishing touches on the maze and the pumpkin patch before it opened tomorrow.
Everyone she’d come in contact with at the hospital had said they’d be there. She just knew it was going to be a success, in spite of Maureen’s concerns that they might be overdoing it, that Evan had probably invested too much money in something that might not work.
“Are you there, Cam?” she asked, frowning when he hadn’t answered. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d accidentally hit a button and called her without even knowing it. “Cam?”
What was that noise in the background?
“Hi, Annie.”
Something was wrong. Something awful. She could hear it in the dismal sound of his voice.
“What’s happened, Cam? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. So are Evan and Maureen and everyone else at the nursery, but…there’s been a fire.”
Anabelle thought for a moment her heart might stop. She could barely breathe.
“A lot of the maze is gone. Straw burns fast, even when it’s baled.”
It was tough to get the words out, but Anabelle managed to ask, “Is it out? Is the fire department still there?”
“They’re still working on the maze. But there must have been a gust of wind when the fire was raging and…and the roof on the garden center is half gone. The inside’s—” Cameron sighed. “Go home, Annie. You don’t want to see this place.”
“Of course I do.”
“No. Just go home. Please. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“I’m not going home. I’m going to the nursery and I’ll be there shortly. I have to help…if I can.”
“Buela! Buela!”
Elena tugged another weed from the pumpkin patch that curved up and around Izzy’s playhouse, and raised her eyes to see her granddaughter sticking her head out the window where bright lemon-yellow curtains rustled in the light autumn breeze. Fortunately the patches of dark clouds had bypassed them, but she had seen lightning off in the distance. She was grateful it hadn’t rained, because she’d so needed to work in the yard.
“What is it, Izzy?”
“There’s a big ugly bug on the wall and I don’t want to touch it.”
Bug? Elena shuddered. That was Cesar’s territory. Besides, after a hard day at work, even though she’d worked a short shift today, plus her sleepless nights and all the worry, she was too tired to go to war with an insect or spider. Still, life had to go on, and she was trying to make it seem as normal as possible.
And she wasn’t about to ignore her granddaughter.
Elena removed her gardening gloves and shoved them into the back pocket of her jeans and then held out a hand to Isabel. “I think we need a hero to slay—or remove—the bug. Do you know any heroes?”
Izzy skipped out of the playhouse. “My daddy,” she said emphatically.
“Yes, he’s definitely a hero, but he isn’t home right now.”
Izzy stopped, adjusted the plastic emerald and ruby crown on her head, and stared at her grandmother. “Tito’s getting kind of old to be a hero, but I suppose he could get
the bug out of my castle.”
Elena smiled. “I think your grandfather’s in the side yard. Why don’t you—”
“Be right back.”
Izzy was gone in a flash, her long dark hair bouncing up and down as she skirted the edge of the fence surrounding the pool, the train on the emerald green princess gown Elena had made for her trailing through the grass clippings that hadn’t yet been raked up.
A moment later, the buzz of the lawnmower died, and Izzy returned at a run, dragging her grandfather behind her.
“It’s big, Tito. Really, really, really humongous”—Izzy threw her arms wide—“and it’s icky too, and it’s trying to take over my castle.”
“Well,” Cesar said, straightening his shoulders and thrusting out his chest, looking exactly like hero material, except for the dark circles under his eyes. “I’m not about to let some old bug mess with my little girl’s castle. You wait right here.”
Cesar ducked inside the playhouse he and Rafael had designed and built last year, back in the days when Rafael was dead set against being a cop. Now he was simply waiting for the results of his polygraph test and the background investigation, and riding along with some of the cops his dad knew, getting a feel for the job. As soon as he passed with flying colors, he’d be off to the sheriff and police academy. Time and prayer sure had a way of making things right.
Outside the castle, Elena and Izzy heard grunts and groans as if a fight were going on, and at long last, Cesar emerged, lightly clasped hands outstretched. “Got him.”
Izzy wrinkled her nose. “Is it dead?”
“Nope. This isn’t the kind of bug you want to kill.”
“Why not? It’s scary and icky.”
“But this one’s good in the garden because it eats bugs that want to destroy our plants.”
Cesar opened his hands to reveal a seemingly stunned insect resting on his palm, looking desperate to get out into the pumpkin vines where it could hide. “It’s a praying mantis,” Cesar said. “See the way he’s holding his legs?”
Izzy moved in cautiously and stared at the creature. “Yes.”
“It looks like it’s praying, doesn’t it?”