“You’re welcome to play hooky and come back here any time,” Jenna encouraged.
“Oh, I’d love that. More than you know. But the boys are just starting to ... adjust ... if that’s the right word. Alex moved in with her, and the boys hate it. Can’t trust them to stay there more than an hour, forget about a weekend or longer.” Acid dripped from her voice like syrup.
“Bring the boys!” Jenna offered.
“We’ll see ... let me think about it, the kids have school,” Sophia answered softly, closing the conversation.
“Okay, do that. So, what else is new?” Jenna looked towards the clock; she had 30 minutes before she’d officially be running late.
“Eh, nothing really. Same old, same old,” Sophia dismissed Jenna’s concern, which only stood to concern her more. “How are things there?” Jenna caught the implication in her tone.
“Not bad. Mia’s in love with her teacher.” Jenna tapped her fingers on the counter, smiling at the notion of how much her little girl seemed taken by school. “Gabe’s building this huge house in Sequim, so he’s gone a lot trying to finish it all before winter, but he really loves the creative freedom this couple has given him. Apparently, they’re some big deal in Seattle; this is their second home. It’s a monstrosity, absolutely huge and stunning.”
Gabe had finally, after much pestering, driven Jenna out to the job site. The house was glorious, and Jenna felt home envy, wandering about the palatial home.
“That’s great!” Sophia chimed. “Did you ask if they need a designer or maybe a few knick knacks?” Sophia laughed lightly, her voice like sweet bells.
“I’ll be sure to put in a good word,” Jenna mused, snickering softly.
“And how are you feeling Jen? No bullshit.” Sophia’s voice darkened a note.
“I’m good. Tired and my appetite is dwindling. My pain medication is keeping a lot of things at bay, I suppose.” She hated talking about her symptoms, knowing it only upset everyone, worried them.
“And you’re going to the doctor today?” Sophia prodded.
“In ten minutes actually, or I’ll be late. Then I can hopefully do some shopping in town. There are a few things I’d like to find. Speaking of which, do you know if the boys want anything in particular for Christmas?”
“You’re not being serious! It’s only September!”
“I most certainly am! I love the holidays, and who knows what shape I’ll be in when they roll up this year. But Santa Claus comes whether I feel good or not, that’s the way it’s always been—the way it always will be.”
“No one would think badly if you wanted to defer that this year ... ” Sophia’s voice was soft, cautioning.
“I know that. But this is loaded. I can put it off—and then what? Mia has no Christmas? I have to admit that no matter what, these will be the last holidays I can prepare for Mia, the last time I can pretend to be Santa and wrap her gifts. Even if I don’t make it to see Christmas morning, I want her to have happy memories. Life goes on you know.”
“I don’t know what to say ... ” Sophia murmured into the phone.
“You don’t have to say anything.”
“I could help you. I could shop and send the gifts to you,” Sophia offered.
“No. I mean, yeah, you could, but you won’t. This is what I have left in my life—this little patch of room to be a good Mom, and doing these things, it makes me happy. It might seem like I’m worrying about the wrong stuff, but it doesn’t feel that way to me. What else can I do? Crawl into bed? That’s not me, that’s never been me. I’m a mother and this is what mothers do.”
“Oh, Jenna,” Sophia sighed heavily on the other end.
“Listen, I know you’re busy, I just called to say Hi. Give the boys a kiss for me, okay?” Jenna twirled the cord around her finger.
“I will.”
“Okay, we’ll talk soon, I promise.”
“Good. Well, call me later, please. Let me know how things go?”
“As always.”
“Okay, good. I love you Jenna.”
“Love you too, Soph.” Jenna replaced the receiver with a slight click.
She grabbed her fall jacket off the hook by the door, then, grabbing her keys and purse, she headed out.
Jenna’s decline had begun subtly since that horrible night in August. She found herself managing her pain more frequently, brought on by chilly weather of fall or by the natural course of things, she wasn’t sure. Her bones ached, deep pits of vexation dwelled in each joint, and her appetite had vanished, gone with summer.
Dr. Henderson’s private office was a peaceful break from the bland expanse of the hospital at large. The walls were painted a soft sky blue with crisp white bead board tracing the outline of the area. Oak toned hardwood floors gleamed under the soft light of lamps that were dotted around the small, comforting space. Soft, overstuffed furniture created a family room atmosphere with polished end tables that displayed the latest magazines, dotted around in small crystal vases were sugary white blooms. The receptionist was affable and warm, welcoming Jenna with a glass of water, gesturing towards a kitchenette, if she’d prefer a coffee, or snack while waiting. A friendly kid area was enclosed with a white washed fence off to the side. Disney movies seemed in endless supply as little ones lazed on soft beanbags waiting for their parents return. Jenna hadn’t remembered Dr. Henderson’s office being so benevolent before, but the space looked new and Jenna assumed it was a recent acquisition of the doctor’s.
Dr. Henderson had carefully and compassionately laid out for Jenna what she could expect in the coming weeks. The exhaustion, the need for great amounts of sleep, weight loss and muscle loss probably in tandem, difficulty eating or swallowing, compromised ability to speak and a lapse concentration, probably, in the end, a coma.
“Mrs. Chamberland? You can follow me back, Dr. Henderson will be with you in just a moment.” the reception stood, gesturing for Jenna to follow her toward an exam room.
Jenna walked slowly behind the pretty girl. The hallways were a continuation of the bead board, but the blue of the waiting area melted into a lively green, similar to the ferns that lined Jenna’s yard, she thought. Pictures of the Olympic Peninsula's natural wonder hung, framed behind thick glossy glass.
“Right in here.” The receptionist smiled again, pointing to a neatly folded gown resting on the edge of a soft leather exam table. Jenna wished she could remember the girl’s name, to thank her properly, but it escaped her. “Dr. Henderson should be with you shortly. Go ahead and get changed,” she said, the lacquered, glossy smile still pasted sweetly on her face as she turned to close the door behind her.
Jenna hadn’t been in this room before but noted that each room was apparently decorated differently. This room was a soft creamy white, and all traces of medical necessities were enclosed behind dark wood cabinets. The faded and flecked linoleum floor was the only indiction that this was hospital exam room rather than a swank hotel room. A writer’s desk and supple leather chair sat askew under a wide window that looked out onto the landscaping far below.
Jenna finished folding her pants and placing them on a wing chair when a small tap announced Dr. Henderson presence.
“Come in!” Jenna called out, hopping up on the table, the exam paper crumpling loud under her weight.
“Jenna,” Dr. Henderson greeted her, slipping inside the door, closing it behind her.
“Hi, Dr. Henderson.” Jenna forced a smile and nodded towards the doctor.
“So, it’s been a week, which I take to mean that you’ve had no real problems since our last visit.” Dr. Henderson didn’t look at Jenna as she spoke, her eyes glued to the open file in her hands.
“No, not really. More of the same. Just tired, lack of hunger, headaches, achy ... ” Jenna prattled, trying to think if there was something more she should add. “Oh, and I’ve been taking the pain med every night. It seems to be working; the mornings are much easier.”
“That’s good, I’m happy to he
ar that. I would like to run some blood work this morning, and outside of that, if you’re saying everything else is status quo, we should attempt to stay the course. Unless, of course, something shows up,” Dr. Henderson added as an afterthought.
Fishing a pair of rubber gloves from her pocket she began her exam, running her fingers down Jenna’s throat, listening to her breathing, looking into her eyes. Jenna allowed herself to relax.
Dr. Henderson snapped off her exam gloves and moved to sit down behind the writer’s desk, taking a pen from her coat pocket, her hand moving swiftly across the page. “I’m going to write a script for the blood work. You can just go to the lab directly, it’s more efficient.”
“That’s fine,” Jenna checked her wristwatch.
“I should have the results, by oh, early afternoon at the soonest. I’ll call you directly if something needs tending too, all right?”
“Sounds good.” Jenna nodded her agreement.
“Okay, then, that’s all. I’ll be in touch.” Dr. Henderson turned on her heels and took wide strides towards the door.
“Thank you for seeing me,” Jenna called after her.
“Jenna, I’m always happy to see you.” Dr. Henderson tilted her head to the side and a soft smile pulled lightly at the corners of her lips. “I want to help you,” were her last words as she pulled the door closed behind it.
~ * * * ~
“Excuse me, could I please see that jewelry box?” Jenna pointed across the wide counter of the old antique store to a beautiful vintage jewelry box nestled on the high shelf.
“Of course.” The faded old owner reached up and removed it from its roost, laying it softly down on the counter for Jenna to look over.
It was perfect, of course. Exactly what Jenna had been looking for. It was fade white and pink in color, with small hand painted rose buds adoring the exterior. Inside, was a raw silk, pink and pristine, a series of rolled cushions and tiny holes simply waiting to be filled with treasures.
“How much?” Jenna asked, closing the lid and admiring once again the intricate detailing.
“Two hundred, it’s very old and a rare find,” the shop owner reasoned.
Jenna exhaled loudly. Two hundred dollars, for a small jewelry box, seemed awfully steep. “Are you firm on that?” Jenna asked, running the tips of her fingers over the smooth wood.
“It’s not actually mine to sell, it’s a commission piece. Owner’s had it since it was new, hard to part with without the right price, I suppose.” He shrugged and went to reach for the box, running his thick calloused fingers over the delicate lid.
Jenna gnawed the inside of her lip thoughtfully. It was perfect, exactly what she had been looking for, very rare and so beautiful. “I suppose I could do two hundred,” Jenna decided.
“Is it for you?” the old lady asked, folding the box neatly in tissue.
“My daughter.” Jenna beamed.
“Lucky little girl,” the owner eyed Jenna. “Must be a big deal to have such a lovely jewelry box.”
“It is, a very big deal,” Jenna agreed, handing over her credit card.
“Birthday?” the owner pressed, clearly wondering what a child would do with such an expensive jewelry box.
“She just turned seven,” Jenna smiled, “but no. I want her to have something special, from me, and this is really perfect,” Jenna allowed, signing her name in the appropriate place.
“I hope she enjoys it,” the shop owner shot Jenna a speculative look, handing the package across the counter to Jenna.
“Me too. Thank you for your help.” Jenna waved goodbye and floated out the door.
The box was perfect, exactly what Jenna had hoped to find. The idea to give Mia a jewelry box crossed her mind as she was cleaning out her closet. She had acquired, over the years, beautiful pieces of jewelry from Gabe. She had her engagement ring, a rose cut round chip set in a thin, etched gold band, the matching wedding band, a pair of diamond earrings Gabe had given her for their tenth wedding anniversary, a strand of pearls Jenna had splurged on in New York while touring for her first book. Then there were the things that even predated Gabe, the charm bracelet she had worn as a little girl, a butterfly broach that had been her mother’s. All of it would go to Mia, but she would, of course, need a safe place to keep her inherited treasures.
She wandered around the sleepy streets of the town. Toys and games for Mia, sweaters and a handsome watch for Gabe, a pair of warm boots and coat for Ginny, books for her nephews, a pair of gold and emerald earrings for Sophia. She sipped a coffee in the local bookstore, wandering the aisles, filling her basket with everything that looked interesting.
Jenna glanced at the clock in her car as she pulled out of the spot onto the main street, still a few hours before Mia got out of school, but the weather was becoming treacherous. Rain pelted her windshield faster than the blades could sweep it away. She was no more than a few minutes from Ginny’s house, and pulled into a parking lot to turn away. She wanted to finish as much business today as possible.
The gravel drive crunched under the tires of the heavy truck as Jenna slowly inclined towards to the house. Lights blazed inside, a warm glow against the gray low cloud cover. Grabbing her umbrella, Jenna bolted from the car, running towards the front door.
“Jenna?” Ginny pulled the aluminum door away, ushering Jenna into the cozy, warm family room.
“Hi. Sorry, I should have called, are you busy?” Jenna asked, looking around.
“No, not at all, I’m happy you stopped by. Is everything all right?” Ginny reached for Jenna’s coat as she shrugged it off her shoulders, thawing in the warmth of the tiny house.
“Everything’s fine, but I wanted to give you this,” Jenna dug in her purse, pulling the carbon copy receipt from the jeweler out, handing it over to Ginny. “I’m having something made for Gabe, but it will take a few weeks and I’m not sure that I’ll ... ” Jenna trailed off.
“You’d like me to pick it up?” Ginny finished.
“If you wouldn’t mind, it’s just down the street,” Jenna explained, gesturing towards the direction of the shop.
“It’s no problem.” Ginny looked over the piece of paper, walking slowly to a pin it on her board of notes and reminders hanging in the kitchen.
“Thank you, I appreciate it.”
Ginny waved her hand away, brushing off the favor. That was the goodness of her, her willingness to help, and expect not even a thank you in return.
“Coffee?” Ginny offered, pulling a chipped mug down from a small cabinet.
“That sounds pretty perfect.” Jenna smiled, rubbing her hands across her arms, trying to warm them with light friction.
Ginny poured two cups and joined Jenna at the table, sliding a mug to her.
“Mmm, this is so good, thank you.” Jenna took a long pull of the strong, black coffee, feeling it trace warmth down her spine. “Ginny, actually, there was something else. I was wondering if you’d feel like coming back, on a pretty regular basis.”
Ginny looked at Jenna, lowering her own mug and setting it back on the table. “Sure.” Ginny tilted her head to the side before continuing. “Now, what is it you’re not telling me Jenna?”
Last Ginny knew they were still a long ways out needing her back full time. Of course she’d want to know why, suddenly, only three months into things, Jenna would be here imploring her to return.
“Oh, Gin, I don’t know—and maybe I’m over thinking things, but I can feel something coming, a change maybe. It feels like an urgency. Like the pulse of my life is speeding up and I need to get busy with making things happen—before it’s too late.” Jenna lowered her eyes, drawing circles with her finger tips on the faded finish on the kitchen table, tracing a faded water ring.
Ginny nodded slowly, reaching out to pat the back Jenna’s hand in comfort before pulling back slowly.
“I need you to take Mia all day Friday, can you do that? The kids have an institute day, so no school.” Jenna continued to draw circles, av
oiding Ginny’s watchful eyes.
“Sure,” Ginny sipped her coffee, giving Jenna the floor to elaborate.
“I would like you to take her out all day. I can bring her here or give you money for the movies, or whatever else you’d come up with,” Jenna began. “I just need time to do some things around the house ... alone.”
“Sure, we can catch a movie and maybe go to the beach, if this weather eases up some.” Ginny looked out the window, watching the heavy drops splatter viciously against the weak panes of her windows.
“Thank you.” Jenna sipped her coffee slowly, and joined Ginny in her trance, lulled by the steady waves of rain.
“Will you please tell me what is going on?” Ginny asked again, “I will help you in whatever ways I can, hon, but you need to tell me what has brought on this change.”
“Ginny, you know what’s going on.” Jenna shook her head slowly, sadly.
“I know some of what’s going on, but it’s pretty clear there is something you’re still not telling me. This is your business, but Jenna, I love you like family and I’m asking you as a friend.”
“Okay, fair enough,” Jenna began.
Jenna sat in the overly warm kitchen, looking into Ginny’s terrified eyes, and offered what she could, full disclosure. She reminded Ginny about the morning she and Gabe went to Seattle for the last time, about the realization she faced, knowing that she was going to die and knowing that she was going to leave behind her little girl. She spoke of her guilt over making Gabe a single father, and her fears that it would swallow him whole.
“You know that they over estimated things. I never really had six months.”
She told Ginny about the support group meeting, all those years ago, and schoolteacher with her final goal, the tapes. She left nothing out, she filled the quiet home with all of her fears and doubts and hesitations, and finally, her resolve.
“I lost track of time,” Jenna finished, watching Ginny dab the corners of her eyes with a napkin. “I had all of these things I wanted to do with what was left. I wanted to take Mia’s entire life and bottle up in 6 months. But, I don’t have six months. Every day gets harder, and I cannot put these things off any longer, I need your help.”
The Milestone Tapes Page 15