“You ... you can rest now. I’m here and I’m going to stay for as long they need me. I don’t want you to be afraid, I want you to be brave.”
Sophia recapped the polish and blew lightly on Jenna’s tones.
~ * * * ~
Hours passed slowly, Sophia kept watch but Jenna never stirred. She must have dozed off when she felt a hand lightly brush her shoulder.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to you wake you.” Gabe spoke softly just above her. “Can I talk to you, in the hallway?” He tilted his head towards the dark hall.
Sophia couldn’t help but think he looked better, rested. He was still sloppy and needed a shower and shave, but she could see that the hours of unconsciousness that done him some good.
“Did you sleep well?” Sophia asked, following him out and slumping to the floor in the hallway. She could hear Ginny and Mia chattering in the kitchen, along with the smell of something spicy and rich cooking. Her stomach rolled, almost painfully empty she hadn’t had anything to eat since Ginny had called her early yesterday morning.
“Yeah, thanks.” Gabe also sank to the floor across from her, his knees pulled up and arms resting slightly askew on them.
“Is this shift change?” Sophia asked casually, craving a hot shower, warm meal and soft bed, in that order.
“I wanted to talk to you really quick,” Gabe began thoughtfully, pulling the words with intent. “Jenna told me that when your mom was sick, you took care of her. Jenna was away at school, and that you did most of the heavy stuff.”
“That’s all true.” Sophia nodded.
“You were just a kid ... ” Gabe voiced trailed off as his gaze followed the voices in the kitchen.
“She was my Mother, she needed me.” Sophia leaned her head against the wall and looked at the ceiling, wishing there something else to say.
Gabe nodded once before continuing. “Did it hurt you? Like now, do you wish you hadn’t had to be there, to see her like that?”
“Sometimes. But, I can’t imagine it any other way. I think, if I hadn’t been there, it would bother me more.” Sophia looked towards the bedroom, remembering the way Jenna carried her guilt like a wool blanket for the rest of her life. Sophia didn’t share the same burden, and for that, she was grateful.
“Is that how you remember her?”
Sophia closed her eyes and thought of her mother. Maybe it was the moment she’d shared with Jenna or maybe it was genuinely how she remember Elizabeth, but the first thing she remembered was how Elizabeth used to paint her toenails when Sophia was just a little girl. After a warm bath, she was tell Sophia to prop her toes up on her lap, and her mother would skillfully sweep the tiny brush coated in a shiny lacquer over her tiny shell pink nails. Sophia smiled. Her toes always looked like tiny pink sugar coated gumdrops.
“No, Gabe, that’s not how I remember her.” And that was the truth, she needed to be sure, but it was the truth. “I remember her being sick, of course I do, but I remember all the good stuff first.”
“Hmm,” Gabe mused.
“And to answer your other question, no, I don’t regret it, not for a single minute. I’m happy I was there, happy I got to hold her hand and tell her how much I loved her. It brought me peace,” Sophia continued. “Actually, I think I found a deeper peace with Mom passing than Jenna did. I was able to help her pass on. Jenna, I know, regrets not being able to be there ... She told me that, Gabe. She’d want Mia there, not for the scary stuff, but for Mia’s own everlasting peace.”
“Are you sure?” Gabe asked, searching Sophia’s face.
“I am Gabe, one hundred percent sure.” She climbed to her feet, stretching her back, which felt stiff and brittle, patted him once on the hand and wandered towards the kitchen.
~ * * * ~
“Momma?” Mia walked slowly towards Jenna’s bedside. Each footfall tentative. Gabe and Sophia stood nearby, gently encouraging her forward.
“Hi baby,” Jenna welcomed her, voice splintering over each word, the sound of labored breathing padding the room.
“Hi Momma.” Mia sat on the edge of the small chair beside the bed, looking at her mother.
“I’ve missed you.” Jenna reached for Mia’s hand, and Mia, meeting her half way, smiled weakly.
“I miss you, too Mommy.” Tears slide down Mia’s cheeks. Sophia turned away, biting hard on her lip.
“How’s school?”
“Daddy is letting me stay home.”
“That’s fun, it’s always nice to play hooky.” Jenna smiled at her daughter. Her lips cracked and spread into a feeble smile.
Mia stared at Jenna, her eyes wide and uncertain, scared.
“Gabe, Sophia ... I’m okay. Can I have a minute alone with Mia please?” Jenna asked softly.
“I don’t—” Gabe began, taking a small step forward.
“It’s fine Gabe, really. I just want to talk to Mia for a moment, it won’t take long.” Jenna halted him, an urgency in voice told him to let her win this one.
“We’ll be right outside,” Gabe cautioned.
“I’m counting on that,” Jenna chuckled softly, ever aware of the protectiveness Gabe felt for his girls.
Jenna waited until she heard the knob click quietly closed before she continued. “Scary, huh?” she turned to Mia, looking into her eyes.
“Kind of,” Mia conceded, looking embarrassed, a rosy blush creeping over her cheeks.
“It’s okay, baby, I know. This is scary, and it’s okay to be afraid, you’re just a little girl,” Jenna soothed, stroking the top of Mia’s hand lightly with her thumb.
“I don’t want to be scared,” Mia defied, trying to be strong, always so brave.
“Being scared is okay. Sometimes life is scary, and when it is, it’s brave to say you’re scared.”
Mia nodded softly, trying to understand the message behind Jenna’s words. “Are you going to get better again soon?” Mia asked.
“No, baby, not this time,” Jenna answered honestly, but she couldn’t bring herself to talk about death and dying and would come next. She didn’t want to spend this precious time, with so little left, on that. “You know I love you, Mia?”
Mia nodded again.
“And you know that you are the best thing that I’ve ever done, the greatest gift, that you’re everything to me?” Jenna affirmed; she needed to know that Mia knew that, felt it, understood that she was the reason for Jenna’s whole life.
“Yes, Momma, I know.” Mia’s little lip trembled with unshed tears.
“Come lay down with me,” Jenna asked, lifting back the corner of the blanket for Mia to crawl beside her.
Mia snuggled down on Jenna’s side, resting her head on Jenna’s shoulder.
“When I first found out you were coming, that you were this tiny little being warm and safe inside me, I thought that was the happiest day of my life. I had wanted you so badly, for so long, I thought nothing could be better,” Jenna began, her voice no more than a hushed whisper in the cool, dark room.
“And then you were born, and I thought, no, that was the happiest day of my life. And then one day, you called me Momma, and I realized, I’d been wrong all along, that that must be the happiest day of my life. And then one day I realized that there is no one singular happiest day of motherhood, that every single day is the best day. You gave me that.” Jenna leaned down and kissed the top of Mia’s head.
“I love you so much Mia, and I want you to have the most beautiful life. I want you to chase your dreams, and dream big. I want you to have every opportunity, and set this world on fire. You are an amazing little girl, and I have been so blessed, beyond words, to be your Momma.” Tears slid down Jenna’s face, and in her arms she felt Mia shake with quiet tears.
“And soon, I won’t be able to be with you anymore, I have to go be with the Angels in Heaven. But I promise, I will always be watching over you, I will always be your Momma and even if you can’t see me, you can trust that I’m nearby, with you always.”
“Please
don’t go Momma,” Mia begged.
“Oh, baby, I don’t want to go, but I have to,” Jenna wept; it broke her heart to know the words were true, and that she would give anything to stay, but how could she possibly explain this to a child in a way that would make sense, when it hardly made sense to her?
“Momma, my heart hurts.”
“I know baby, mine too.” Jenna held Mia close, letting the quiet settle over them like a warm blanket.
~ * * * ~
Hours later, Gabe slipped into the room. The nurse had come to get him, a panicked look spread across her face.
“Mr. Chamberland, you need to come get Mia, quickly!” She turned and sprinted back down the hall, Gabe and Sophia close on her heels.
Jenna’s breath came in short, frenzied spasms. Mia sat beside her, holding her hand, her eyes wide with horror.
“Mia, baby, come with me,” Sophia coaxed sweetly to her niece, prying her hand away from Jenna’s.
“Ginny!” Sophia screamed down the hall as Ginny ran towards the room. “Take her, please!” Sophia transferred Mia’s hand into Ginny’s and hurried back to Jenna’s side.
“What’s going on? What’s happening?” Gabe pled with the nurse to answer him, but she was fixed entirely on Jenna, rolling her slowly to her side, rubbing tenderly at her hand.
“She’s having trouble breathing, Mr. Chamberland,” the nurse’s calm voice sang, compassionately reserved and focused only on making Jenna comfortable.
“Jenna, Jenna,” Gabe repeated, kneeling close to her face, smoothing his hand through her hair. “It’s okay baby, I’m here, I’m here, you’re going to be okay. Please be okay.”
“Mr. Chamberland, please,” the nurse implored, trying to gain more access to Jenna. “Can someone page her doctor?” She turned to Sophia, knowing Gabe wouldn’t be moved.
“Of course.” Sophia sprinted from the room.
Jenna’s breathing slowly, ratcheting her chest, but the gasping subsided. Gabe collapsed into himself, his face hitting the soft mattress, throttling his tears.
“What the fuck was that?” Gabe managed, staring coolly at the nurse.
“She was having trouble breathing, she was on her back for too long. Her system is depressed, Mr. Chamberland. That, unfortunately, will become more frequent,” the nurse explained sympathetically, pressing a stethoscope to Jenna’s back, listening to the gurgling breath.
“So she’s going to suffocate? Is that what you’re telling me? My wife is going to choke to death?” Gabe’s adrenaline melted into pure fury, locked only on the nurse.
“I will try to keep her as comfortable as possible, Mr. Chamberland.” The nurse folded her tool and slipped it back in her pocket, wrapping a sheet around Jenna.
“Dr. Henderson is on the phone,” Sophia breathlessly returned, holding the portable phone out as an offering.
“I’ll take it in the kitchen.” The nurse reached for the phone, walking smoothly out towards the common area before pressing it to her ear.
“Should you be leaving her?” Gabe yelled out to her, concerned that without the nurse things would escalate again.
“Keep her on her side and talk to her, she can hear you,” the nurse called over her shoulder.
Gabe slowly pulled himself into the chair, only then did he look at Jenna and see her, her eyes wide with panic, horror and pain.
“It’s okay baby, you’re okay, it’s over now, you’re okay,” Gabe murmured, but Jenna remained locked in her silent agony.
“Gabe, you should go talk to Mia, she’s really shaken,” Sophia whispered to him. “I’ll stay with Jenna, don’t worry, go take care of Mia.”
Gabe turned with a look of uncertainty, but slowly stood up. He knew what Jenna would want, she’d want him to go to Mia, comfort and protect her.
Sophia began to hum, climbing into the bed beside her sister, wrapping her arms around. The song was one their mother used to sing to them when they were little. She held Jenna close, swaying her softly; it was all she could think to do.
Gabe wandered down the hallway, following the sounds of Mia’s jagged cries.
“Mr. Chamberland?” The nurse intercepted him. “Could I speak to you for a moment?”
“Sure.” Gabe motioned for her to join him in his office, and she followed quickly behind.
“This won’t take long, I know you want to be with Mia.”
“Okay.” Gabe felt numb, hollowed out and broken, going through the motions of all this while really in the middle of it, like he was watching a scary movie and living it in the same moment.
“I just spoke Dr. Henderson. She’s prepared to admit Jenna into the hospital right now, I just have to call for an ambulance, and she’ll meet us there.”
“The hospital?” Gabe’s eyes widened.
“Yes. If this is too much, and sometime’s it is, the hospital is an option. Jenna can stay there, get the best care, and when things like … what happened ... arise, a full staff is waiting to help … it can be less ... traumatic for the family,” the nurse carefully worded her thoughts.
“I don’t want that for my wife,” Gabe realized, this was scary and this hard, but he wanted Jenna here. He wanted to keep her surrounded by the things she loved, by things that comforted and consoled her, not in some hospital bed.
She’d always hated being sick, but at home it was better. The hospitals terrified her; she always felt like the next time she walked in, she’d never leave. He wouldn’t do that to her. Not now. Not ever. This was her home.
“I figured you might feel that way, which is why I told Dr. Henderson I wanted to speak with you first.” The nurse nodded understandingly.
“Can you be straight with me? How bad is this going to get?” Gabe sank into the vintage leather chair behind his drafting desk.
“It’s not going to get better. The struggled breathing, that will only become more frequent. The breaking bones, the periods of unconsciousness, it’s all going to become more difficult.” The nurse hesitated, worrying her hands into tight, veiny knots.
“How long do you think she has?” Gabe asked, choking over the words.
“Days, maybe,” the nurse offered. “Everyone is different, but Mrs. Chamberland has gone downhill very quickly, and that concerns me.”
“Days?” Gabe gasped.
“I can’t say for certain Mr. Chamberland. I’m just going off of what I’ve seen in the past, each patient is different,” the nurse consoled. “It could be longer.”
“My wife is going to stay here, in her home, with us,” Gabe finalized, the numbness spreading through his body. “Can you call Dr. Henderson and tell her that?”
“Of course.” The nurse took her leave, heading swiftly back towards the kitchen.
Gabe rested there for a moment. Thinking. Days. He felt like he was living in a vacuum, that suddenly all the air around him had vanished. Their whole life, all their time together, dribbled down to a few days. There wasn’t anything left he could do. He could rub her feet, her hands, brush ice over lips, hold her hand, love her—tell her that every moment of every day left. But then there would be nothing.
But Mia.
Mia would remain. She would stand to remind him of what was shared between them. The love that built this house, built this family. Jenna would be inside of Mia, in her wavy hair and sweet smile. She would remind him that Jenna had existed, that all of her goodness hadn’t been imagined, wasn’t a dream that was dashed by the unforgiving morning light. That Jenna, for a time, had been his wife, his lover and his best friend. And that though he’d miss her, he would carry on for his—for their—little girl.
The thought pulled him from his office, hurried him down the hall. He had a job to do now, a purpose; he had to be a father.
Gabe saw Ginny holding Mia. They sat together in the comfortable recliner, Ginny’s arms cradling Mia, her voice to low and methodic, soothingly slow and steady like a song.
“Ginny, I can take Mia,” Gabe interrupted, reaching out for her.
“Daddy, I’m sorry,” Mia whimpered, leaning in closer to Ginny for comfort.
“You need nothing wrong.” Gabe lifted Mia from Ginny’s lap.
“I hurt Mommy,” Mia shamefully owned, taking her share of responsibility innocently, wrongfully.
“No, you did not, Mia, you did not hurt your mommy ... you made Mommy happy baby.” Gabe carried Mia around the room, cradled in his arms, like he had when she was an infant, pacing the floor. He had haunted this room with her at night, lulling her to sleep.
“She couldn’t breathe,” Mia sobbed into Gabe chest, tears soddening his shirt.
“Baby, that wasn’t your fault.”
“I was scared, Mommy said it was brave to say when I am scared. Mommy said she wasn’t getting better.”
Gabe said nothing, the words clinging to the walls of his throat. He knew she wasn’t getting better, but he couldn’t say the words out loud, to hear them echo off the walls. He’d known as much all those months ago, sitting stoically beside her as she decided to take herself out of this life. He’d thought about what it would mean, to be without her, driving the empty roads of this sleepy town. He’s tried to imagine what after would be like, the adjustments and changes, but still, he never really believed she’d be gone.
“But, I want her to get better,” Mia pled softly.
“I want her to get better too, sweetheart.” Gabe could say that much; he had prayed those exact words for years now.
“I miss my Mommy.”
Gabe thought of all those private moments he’d seen shared between Jenna and Mia. The way they would collapse in laughter over a joke that Gabe didn’t find remotely funny, or the way Jenna would absentmindedly stroke Mia’s hair, snuggled close watching a movie as though it was the most interesting thing in the world, the way Jenna’s patience seemed without measure as she sat beside Mia working out the complexities of homework. For the two of them, mother and daughter, halves of a whole, it was natural.
The Milestone Tapes Page 18