His absence was putting a distance between them that scared her and left her with no one to talk to, no place to vent her fears. During their few minutes together, Jade refused to share her true feelings with him. If fear was what kept him away, she was determined not to give him more reason to be gone.
Especially now, when she needed him so badly.
Because the truth, regardless of what she wanted to tell Tanner, was obvious: The medication was changing her.
She began to notice the changes two days after the second seizure, when Dr. Layton increased her dosage and assigned her Helen, a full-time home nurse.
Jade was more tired than she imagined possible, and no amount of sleep made her feel better. Though her brain might intend to spew out three quick sentences, her mouth would only respond with one. One very slow, very deliberate string of words that sounded monotone and robotic, even to Jade. About the same time walking became difficult. Every step required thought and planning, and so her pace was half her usual quick-footed gait.
Then there was her lack of balance. The medication—or the tumor itself—was affecting her equilibrium. There were times, even when she otherwise felt good, when the room seemed to slant so drastically she would fall to her knees if not for the help of someone at her side—usually Helen or Ty, since Tanner never seemed to be home until after she was in bed.
At first it was easy to pass the symptoms off as coincidence, signs that she needed more rest. But after two days of sleeping practically around the clock, Jade could no longer lie to herself.
These thoughts simmered in Jade’s mind while she lay stretched out on the sofa in their den. The den was just off the kitchen and for the past two weeks, since Helen had come to live with them, it was the place where Jade spent most of her time.
She reached for the water bottle on the end table and took a long, slow sip. Her Bible was on the floor beside her, but Jade couldn’t remember why. Had she read it? Was she intending to read it? The water slid down her throat, soothing the parched feeling that was almost constant these days.
The sun was making its way toward the western ridge of mountains behind their house, so it had to be afternoon. But was it Tuesday? Wednesday? And where was Ty? She lifted her wrist, struggling to steady her hand in front of her. The numbers on her watch came into focus. Three-thirty. Ty would be home in ten minutes unless he had practice or a game. Jade had no idea what his schedule was. For that matter she had no idea about Tanner’s schedule, either.
Helen took care of everything now. The woman was kind and orderly, a believer in her late fifties with no family. She was conscientious about her work and took little time for small talk.
Jade wondered how the woman was with Ty. When she took him to his baseball games, did she cheer for him? Ask him how he made a tough catch?
Tears poked pins at Jade’s eyes. Before getting sick, she had never missed her son’s games. Help him understand, God … help me get better so I can be there for him.
The baby shifted position, and Jade’s eyes fell to her swollen abdomen. Hold on, baby girl. You can make it. Just a few more weeks.
The number became a giant in her mind, stomping out every other thought she’d been thinking. Three weeks? She had to exist this way, like a rotting vegetable, for three more weeks? The idea seemed as impossible as scaling Mount Everest.
Jade’s eyelids grew heavier. If there was a silver lining in the fog of medication within which she existed, it was this: She had no trouble sleeping. When she couldn’t remember what day it was or where Ty was supposed to be or whether he had a game or what time Tanner was supposed to be home, she could close her eyes and let all of life slip away.
She drew a slow, steady breath and smoothed her hand over her abdomen. The road ahead was long and dark, wrought with terrible possibilities. What if the tumor grew again before the baby was born? What if it killed her? Would the doctors find a way to save their tiny daughter or would she die, too? And what if they both survived until October 7, the date doctors had set for her C-section? Instead of relishing the birth of her daughter, she would be faced with two weeks of intense chemotherapy and radiation. And after that there would be surgery—an operation that carried with it dire risks in the best of circumstances.
A sad, shaky sigh leaked from Jade’s throat and two tears trickled down her cheeks. How will I survive, God? I need Tanner …
Do not be afraid.
The words echoed in her heart, and Jade wondered if she was imagining them. It was terrifying to live with a brain that no longer responded the way she expected. God? Can you hear me? I’m scared.
Do not be afraid, daughter … I am with you.
A subtle reassurance settled over Jade, and she knew the still small voice in her soul was nothing less than God’s own comfort. She closed her eyes, grateful that He still had His hand on her, still loved her and stayed by her even though she was sick.
Especially because she was sick.
Am I dying, Lord? Are You taking me away from Tanner? Away from Ty and our baby girl?
In response, Jade remembered the verse that had been on her heart constantly the summer she and Tanner found each other again. The words soothed her soul and she played them over in her mind again and again.
“I know the plans I have for you … plans to give you a hope and a future and not to harm you …”
A door slammed in the distance and Jade’s eyes opened. “Ty?”
“Hey, Mom.”
She heard him trudge inside, toss his backpack in the corner, and fling his baseball cap on the nearby chair. His footsteps grew closer, then his warm face was up against hers, kissing her cheek and stroking her hair.
“Hi.” He sat back on his heels. “You look tired.”
Jade managed a grin. “Thanks, buddy.”
“Sorry.” Ty must have caught her hint of sarcasm. “I didn’t mean it like that. You look great, really.”
She messed her fingers through his wheat-colored hair. Tanner’s hair. “That’s okay; I know what you mean. I am tired. Too tired lately.”
“You’re not worse, are you?” Concern flashed in Ty’s expression.
“No.” Jade reached for his hand. “I’m fine.”
“Do you need anything? A cookie or juice or something?”
“No, champ, that’s okay.” Jade struggled to sit up and swing her legs over the side of the sofa. “Let’s get a snack together. We can eat out on the patio.”
Helen walked past and stopped at the sight of Jade working herself up onto her feet. “I can get the chair …”
The chair. Jade appreciated the way Helen didn’t call it a wheelchair, but that’s what it was. A wheelchair in case she wanted to get out or be pushed around the block. Dr. Layton had said she would only need it until the baby was born. Between now and then, too much walking could stimulate tumor growth and more seizures.
“No, thanks.” Jade smiled at the older woman. “I’m not going far.” She held her elbow out toward Ty, and he took it in a way he’d long since perfected.
When he wasn’t at school or busy with sports, Ty was constantly at Jade’s side, checking on her needs and offering to help her walk from one spot to another when she felt unsteady. This was one of those times.
Arm in arm, she and Ty moved into the kitchen. Jade sat on a stool while Ty put together a tray of apples, crackers, and cheese. He carried the tray outside, placed it on the patio table, and poured two glasses of orange juice. When the snack was set up, he led Jade across the kitchen and through the back door.
“Sort of a preview, huh, Ty?” Jade’s head was spinning and the room tilted. She clung to her son’s arm, determined to make the walk without falling. She managed a chuckle. “What life’ll be like when your mom’s an old lady, right?”
“Nah.” Ty led her to a patio chair and helped her sit. “You’ll never be old.”
Once they were situated, Ty filled a small plate for each of them. Jade reached for an apple slice and took a bite.
>
“Mom …” Ty wrinkled his brow. “Aren’t we going to pray?”
“Oh, sorry.” Jade set the apple down. “Go ahead.”
Ty bowed and paused a moment before starting. “Dear Lord, thank You for this snack, thank You that Mom feels good enough to eat it with me, thank You that she’s not getting worse. And please God, make her better soon.” He opened his eyes and grinned. “Now we can eat. I’m starved.”
Jade’s heart swelled. Ty had always been that way. Even when he was a small boy, he would catch Jade starting a meal before praying. It didn’t matter if it was Sunday dinner or a midday snack, her son’s dependence on God was as natural as breathing.
“You won’t believe it.” Ty grabbed three crackers from his plate and shoved them into his mouth. “Guess who quit the baseball team?”
Jade pulled one foot up onto the chair and rested her chin on her knee, pretending to think hard on the question. “Carl the Mugster?”
“No …” Ty made a face and chomped on an apple slice. “The Mugster wouldn’t quit. He might be having a bad year, but still.” Ty’s eyes grew wide. “Really, Mom, guess who quit? You won’t believe it!”
The apple tasted like metal and Jade ran the napkin over her mouth, spitting the pulp into the paper and wadding it up in her hands so Ty wouldn’t know. “I give up; tell me.”
“Okay. It’s a long story, but it started last week after we lost to the Reds, remember?”
Jade nodded, doing her best to keep a serious face.
“Well … after the game the other team’s pitcher came over to our dugout and …”
The rays of sunshine warmed Jade’s shoulders, and listening to Ty and his stories made her dizziness less severe. She couldn’t bring herself to eat, but that was okay. Helen was bringing her protein drinks three times a day, so even if food didn’t look good, at least she and the baby were getting the nutrients they needed.
The smell of jasmine, rich and sweet, filtered up from the landscaped grounds, and a light breeze stirred up a handful of puffy clouds against the deep blue sky.
Jade breathed it in. She loved this time of the year, the way the heat eased up and the Santa Ana winds cleared away the smog. Would she be alive next year at this time? Or was this her last Southern California fall?
“Mom, are you listening?”
At the frustration in Ty’s voice, Jade was pierced with guilt. “You were telling me who quit the team, right?”
Ty huffed and fell back against his chair. “I finished that story. Now I’m telling you why Miss McMacken doesn’t like my math work.”
Jade shook off thoughts of everything but her son. “I’m sorry. Tell me again.”
“Okay.” He smiled his forgiveness. “But listen this time.”
He was just about to move on to another topic when Helen poked her head out the doorway and held up the cordless phone. “Mr. Eastman, for you.”
A current of electricity ran through her heart, the same as it always did whenever she heard Tanner’s name. Even now there were times when her life felt like a dream, when she feared she might wake and find Tanner was nothing more than the stranger he’d been for ten years after Ty was conceived.
She reached for the phone. “Thank you, Helen.”
“Tell him I got an A on my history quiz.” Ty helped himself to another handful of crackers. “But don’t talk long. My game’s in an hour.”
Jade nodded and held the receiver to her ear. “Hello?”
“Hey …” Tanner sounded close enough to be next to her. “How’re you feeling?”
“Fine.” Disappointment blew through the hallways of her heart. If only he’d start the conversation some other way. Jade, I love you … or Jade, I miss you. The dizziness was back, and she closed her eyes. “How ‘bout you?”
He sighed. “Busy.”
Jade could almost see him, elbow planted on his desk while he sorted through a file. “Looks like it’ll be another late one.”
Her eyes welled up, and for a moment her throat was too thick to speak.
“Are you there?”
“Yes.” She coughed. “Ty wants me to tell you he aced his history quiz. And he has a game in an hour.”
“Good.” Tanner’s answer was quick. “Tell him I’m proud of him and I wish I could be there. Maybe next time.”
Jade wanted to scream. What was so important that he couldn’t come home at a decent hour? And why weren’t Ty’s games a priority any more? Tanner ran the office; he could take the time if he wanted to. But she had neither the energy nor the desire to fight with Tanner now.
Instead she brushed the sleeve of her sweatshirt beneath both eyes so Ty wouldn’t see her tears. “Fine.”
“Fine?” Tanner sounded irritated. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Never mind.”
“That isn’t fair. Don’t tell me you’re mad again. Look, Jade, the cases I’m working are demanding, okay? Maybe it isn’t good timing, but what can I do? The office needs me.”
She shifted her gaze to the passing clouds, her voice quiet, sad. “We need you, too.”
“This isn’t the time.” Tanner exhaled hard. “We’ll talk later. I love you, Jade.”
“Okay.” Jade pulled the phone from the side of her face and ended the call. Okay? Jade had always been quick to confirm Tanner’s declarations of love with one of her own. But this time the words simply wouldn’t come.
Ty finished his story and brushed the crumbs from his hands. If he noticed the fact that the phone call had upset Jade, he didn’t say. Instead, he kissed the top of her head and darted toward the door. “Gotta get dressed. Helen’s taking me to the game.” He paused before going inside. “I’ll hit a home run for you, Mom. That’ll make you feel better.”
She gave him a thumbs-up, touched by his tender heart. “Can’t wait to hear about it.”
Jade stayed outside, staring at the hills behind their house. If she focused hard on one thing—a tree trunk or a cloud—her sense of balance seemed almost normal. She stayed that way for a long while, refusing to think of anything but the beauty around her. Eventually she heard the front door open and minutes later the sound of the car pulling away.
Certain that she was alone, Jade let her mind drift back to the conversation with Tanner. It was wrong for him to spend so much time at work. Couldn’t he see how badly she wanted him home? Did he think a nurse could replace having him at her side?
Betrayal and anger rocked her soul. There were no answers, at least none she cared to think about. Jade pushed her plate back and stared at her wedding ring. An ocean of tears spilled from her heart and down her face.
She missed Tanner so much she could barely stand it.
What if she died? Tonight even? Was this how she and Tanner would spend their last days, distant and frustrated and rarely together?
“God …” Sobs tore at her, and the sound carried on the breeze. “I’m so scared and alone. I need him. Why doesn’t he want to be home? What have I done to push him away?”
Since her diagnosis, life had become a nightmare of second-guessing and doubts.
Sweet Hannah, her dependable friend, had begged Jade not to blame herself for what was happening, but it was impossible not to. If only she hadn’t called Tanner three years ago when she needed legal help. If only she’d been a quiet wife for Jim, maybe he never would have left her.
Maybe then she wouldn’t be sick.
Jade leaned her head back and lowered her eyebrows. What was she thinking? God wasn’t using her cancer to punish her for what happened with Jim. Besides, Jim had tried to take Ty away from her! She’d had no choice but to call Tanner. Ty was his son, after all. And Jim would still have divorced her whether she’d called Tanner or not.
And if she hadn’t called, Jim would have taken Ty with him.
Still …
The pendulum of her emotions swung back the other way. Enough people had pointed a finger at Jade since her divorce that sometimes she wondered. Was God angry a
t her for marrying Tanner? Certainly there were reasons for the hard times they were facing, but was her cancer His way of punishing her? At least in part?
The idea flew in the face of everything she knew about the Lord.
Jade had studied Scripture on the matter and realized there were two schools of thought. The first read that anyone who divorced, except for reasons of marital unfaithfulness, and then married another was guilty of adultery. The second group tended to look past the exception and see only the last part of the verse. Marriage after divorce was adultery, pure and simple.
Most of the time Jade sided with the first group. The idea that God would be merciful to a person whose spouse had chosen to take up with another seemed more like God than the second viewpoint.
But sometimes … Jade wondered. What other reason was there for the trial they were suffering if God wasn’t angry with her? With both of them? Her sobs returned with a vengeance.
She didn’t know how long she stayed there, silently begging God to forgive her, but after a while, the back door opened and Helen appeared. “Ty’s going home with his friend. He’ll be spending the night there if that’s okay.”
“It’s fine.” Jade hung her head. “Thanks.”
Jade couldn’t take another evening inside waiting for Tanner’s return, trying to stay awake long enough to exchange a few shallow sentences. Her head hurt worse than it had in weeks and she couldn’t keep her fingers from trembling. Maybe death was right around the corner; maybe the Lord would come for her tonight.
Her tears came harder. “Helen, I need … to get out of here.” She turned so she could see the older woman, and the effort was exhausting.
“Well, I don’t know …” Helen was at her side, concern etched between the wrinkles on her forehead. “Maybe you should sleep first.”
“No!” The tears made it almost impossible to talk. Jade held her breath and shook her head. Calm down, she ordered herself, but her heart raced in response. If this was her last night alive, there was no way she would spend it sleeping. When she could speak, she looked at Helen. “I have someplace to go. I’ll need my chair.”
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