Chapter 23
Now
“Oh my God.
I can’t believe she signed the contract.
Even after he said, ‘I don’t make love.
I fuck.
Hard.’ Who says that? She thinks she loves him?”
It’s Tammy’s third chemo treatment.
I couldn’t come last week since I was covering her spot at the hospital.
And today, I worked half shift and ran here as soon as possible.
It’s good to be here with her, laughing and listening to “Fifty Shades of Grey.”
I feel we are teens again, and sadly, it’s her cancer that has ported us back to this closeness.
I will never take friendship for granted again.
I stop the audio and pull out the lotion I bought for her feet.
“It’s lotion time,”
I say, pulling up the covers and removing her skid-free hospital socks.
“Remember, I’m ticklish.”
With this, I can’t help but run my finger quickly up the bottom of her foot.
She jerks it away.
“Jill! You’re awful.
But I love you.”
I begin rubbing and massaging the lotion on her feet.
She closes her eyes and lies her head back.
Ryan didn’t come today, and I told him no worries because I already had dinner ready for him and the girls.
“That feels so good, Jill.”
I’m happy to be giving her some pleasure.
She’ll feel like she has the worst flu for the next few days.
“Now, back to Fifty Shades of You and Michael,”
Tammy says, still relaxed back with closed eyes.
I continue with her feet, moving up her legs and thinking of Anastasia.
People do wonder how you could love someone who can’t love you back.
I understand it all too well, and listening to the audible brings back that desperate feeling of wanting that love.
I haven’t told her about my stupid moment—Michael and my one-nighter.
I try to brush her question under the rug. “There’s nothing to tell.”
I’ve kept my distance, dodging his happenstance appearances—grocery store, my morning walks on days off.
And since my car’s destruction, no flowers have been left on the windshield.
Michael now leaves the flowers and notes on my front porch, along with notes always signed Love, Michael.
“Give me your other foot,”
I tell her and pull off her sock.
“Jill, you’re avoiding my question.
Please tell me.
I might not have much time left.”
I smack her foot.
“Don’t say that.”
She laughs, and I run my finger up her foot again.
“I’ve been avoiding him.
I have to, Tammy.”
“Why do you have to?”
“My God, you were there.
You know how he was.”
“WAS.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You don’t think he’s changed? We’re listening to this book, and if I get the chance to finish it, I’m pretty sure this Christian guy will change.”
“Michael and I aren’t fictional characters written into a happily-ever-after.
And what do you mean not to finish? Stop talking like that,”
I say and lightly smack her foot.
“I’m realistic.”
“No, you’re not.
It’s not about you and not about Michael.
You’ll be fine, and Michael will be onto…whatever Michael does.”
I finish with her feet and struggle to get her socks back on.
“How’s that feeling? Better?”
“Yes, thank you.”
I sit back on the bed beside her and place the earbud back in.
“Next chapter.”
She pulls them out.
“No.
Next chapter of you and Michael.”
She’s grave, and it scares me somewhat.
“Tammy, why are you persistent about this? Weren’t you the one who told me to leave him several times?”
“Back then.
This is now.”
Back then, she told me to leave him.
But I wouldn’t.
He wouldn’t care if I went, not because he forced me to stay.
“Remember when you had to get me back from Seattle in one piece? Do you want another repeat of that?”
“Just think about it.
Michael is older now.
He sees things differently.”
“Differently how?”
She presses her lips, stalling on my question.
“Kind of how I see things now,”
she says, and I know where she’s going with this.
“Things of the past, they don’t matter anymore.
One thing does.
To let go of the hurt and live the rest of your lives together, being happy.
Even now, with Ryan and me. Since the cancer, it’s like we see each other differently—precious and not here forever.”
“Stop it.
You’ll always be here.”
“Jill, we’re all dying.
Some of us have a fast pass getting there.”
How can she talk like that? Is she giving up? Here I go with the tears, and I’m here for emotional support.
She’s so much stronger than me.
“So, you think I should give Michael a chance? Is that what you’re saying?”
“I think you should be open to what he wants to give you.”
The minute she says what he wants to give me, something opens.
And I see it differently.
Maybe it’s not what he wants; it’s what he wants to give me.
“Are you trying to get rid of me? Am I hanging around too much?”
I tease, grabbing her hands and kissing the tops.
She looks at my hair, eyeing it quizzically.
“Weren’t you going to shave your head? Or is that off now, so you look good for Michael?”
“You’re not going to stop, are you? Do you want it shaved? I’ll shave it tonight.”
“No,”
she laughs.
I have enough ugliness to look at, going through this.
Seeing you and your gorgeous blonde curls brightens my day.”
Her eyes soften, and she studies me for the longest time.
“Please, stay perfect.
Stay beautiful, stay…Jill.”
“Oh, honey.
I will always be me, and you’ll always be you.
We’ll always be us.”
. . . . .
As I’m about to get into the rental car, my cell rings with a number I don’t recognize.
My gut tells me it’s Michael as my finger hovers over the accept button.
I think of Tammy and people changing—wanting to be loved.
What Michael wants to give me, I tap the accept button.
“Hello.”
“Is this Jill Danforth?”
It’s not Michael.
“Yes, this is her.”
“Hi, this is Robert from Stafford’s Auto Repair.
Your car is ready to be picked up.”
“Oh.
Um…what’s the damage? I haven’t yet received a check from my insurance.”
“It’s paid in full.
It would be best if you came to pick it up.
We’re open until 6:00.”
“Paid in full? How?”
I hear the shuffling of papers, and then he responds.
“Michael Danforth signed it.”
Michael.
“Well, thank you for calling.
I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”
“Yes, Mrs.
Danforth.”
“That’s not Mrs.…”
The call goes silent.
Well, I wasn’t planning on going anywhere after work.
So, I’m breaking my scrub rule again.
Oh, well.
It’s just a body shop. I start the rental, pull out of the hospital parking garage, and head to Stafford’s. I’ll have to find out the cost, write a check, and have Monica give it to her father.
Before heading to the body shop, I quickly called Monica to see if she would pick me up at the Avis Car Rental and then drop me off at Stafford’s.
I dropped off the rental, and Monica is outside waiting.
“Hey, Mom,”
she says when I enter her car.
“Hi, Honey.
Thanks for picking me up.
Are you back to work now?”
“Yes,”
she says disappointedly.
“Kind of hard to get back in the swing of things after Paris.”
As much as I love my daughter, she has no idea how lucky she has it with Jordan—to have a honeymoon.
“Yes, well…I’m sure the honeymoon is continuing now that you’re home.
You look so happy, sweetheart.”
“Yes, I am, Mom.
What about you and Dad?”
I don’t like what she may be insinuating.
“What about us? There isn’t anything.”
She eyes me suspiciously before turning her look back onto the road.
What has he been telling her? Hopefully, it’s not about our one stupid moment last week.
“I mean, are any old feelings rekindling?”
“Rekindling! There are many feelings, but I wouldn’t call it that.”
Michael never had feelings for us in the first place.
“He’s made various comments, apologizing for the past.”
“And?”
“And that’s it.
Turn here,”
I tell my daughter as we near Stafford’s.
“Mom, I know where Stafford’s is.
You’re ignoring the question.”
“Monica, there’s nothing to discuss.
Right now, I’m more concerned about Tammy.”
“Yes, I’m sorry, Mom.
How’s she doing with the chemo?”
“Mentally, I think she’s remaining strong for my sake.
But physically, I see a decline.”
“Will she be okay?”
“Of course.
I refuse to think otherwise.”
She pulls into the lot of the body shop, and I see my car parked out front.
“Oh, hang on, and let me write you a check for your father,”
I tell her.
“A check? Why?”
“They called and said Michael paid the bill.”
“Why don’t you give it to him? I don’t know when I’ll be seeing him again.”
“I’m sure it will be before me, Monica.”
“Mom, if he came here to pay for it, he probably doesn’t want to be paid back.”
“No, it’s because he was the body shop’s only contact.
He took care of the arrangements.
So now, I need to pay him back.”
She huffs.
“Fine.
I’ll wait.”
After I receive the keys and the receipt, I write a whopping check.
I’ll need to transfer the money and give it to Monica.
“Be sure he gets it soon.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Okay, love you.
Thank you for picking me up,”
I kiss Monica’s cheek.
She leaves, and I hope it’s straight to Michael’s.
I inspect my car, which looks brand new, and then drive home.
As usual, another bouquet, another letter.
Jill,
How was your day? Your car should be done.
I hope you enjoy my flowers.
I owe you many and regret I never brought you any in the past.
I regret a lot of things, Jill.
I’m leaving my number again, just in case you misplaced the last note I wrote. Please call me anytime.
Love, Michael
I smell the flowers and think of Tammy, Monica, and Michael again.
I should thank him for paying and that Monica has his check.
Pulling out my phone, I take a deep breath and press his number.
“Michael Danforth,”
he answers.
I pause.
I could end the call now; Michael would never know it was me.
But what if he calls my number back? I won’t answer.
“Jill?”
he questions, and his voice is soft.
“Ah…hi, Michael.
I wanted to thank you for the car and that Monica has a check for you.
She should be on her way to your place.
That’s all.
Have a nice evening…”
“Jill, don’t hang up.
I’m so happy you finally called.”
“Well, it was just to let you know that I don’t expect you to pay for the damages…”
“I don’t want the money.
I want to see you.
Can I see you, Jill?”
Dammit.
Why’s he being like this? “I just got home.
I’m tired.
I’m going to check on Tammy and…”
“She’s fine.
I just talked to her.”
“What? Why?”
“To see how she is doing.
Why else?”
“Oh, okay…good.
I’m just going to relax and…”
“I’m coming over, Jill.
Have you eaten?”
“No, but I…”
“I’ll be there soon.”
“But, Michael…”
The call goes silent.
Dammit! I should have never called.
Shoving my phone back into my purse, I walk inside and drop it on the counter.
Scrubs! I hit the shower and change into a sundress—modest in front, a little showy in the back that’s opened down to the small of my back.
I even made sure to paint my toenails. Why?
The doorbell rings as I walk barefoot to the living room and meet Michael at the door.
He holds another bouquet of sunflowers and a bottle of wine.
“Hope lasagna will do,”
he says, pulling out a box of frozen lasagna.
“Picked it up on the way.”
“It’s fine.
Thank you.”
He hands me the cold box, and I turn around.
“I’ll preheat the oven.”
“Wow.
That dress.”
I know, I think to myself with a wicked smile.
“Just got out of the shower, and it’s the coolest thing I have for such a hot day,”
I say casually.
What am I doing? I hear him place the wine and flowers on the counter and then feel his warm hand glide across my bare back, followed by a kiss on my shoulder.
“You make it gorgeous,”
he whispers in my ear.
Ahh.
“Did Monica bring you the check?”
I ask, moving away.
“Yes. Here,”
Michael says, pulling out my check, torn in two.
“I told you I’d take care of it.”
“No…”
“Shh,”
he whispers and places his finger over my lips.
“No discussion about it.”
“But…”
“Ah. None.”
I excuse myself to grab water for the flowers and open the lasagna.
“And thank you for dinner and the flowers.
It’s not necessary.”
“It is to me,”
he says.
I try to look away from his pleading eyes, and my heart is saved when a knock on my back door breaks the moment.
“Jill?”
Alan, my next-door neighbor, pops his head in.
“You home, Love?”
Michael gives me a discerned look.
“My neighbor,”
I say.
“Yes, Alan. Come in.”
“Hey, Love.
Kyle and I…Oh. Hello,”
Alan says, all wide-eyed.
“I didn’t know you had company.
That’s great.
The more, the merrier.
Movie night. “The Lake House,”
he says, making a heart shape over his heart.
“Alan, this is Michael…Danforth.”
Alan places his hands on his hips and inspects Michael with charming eyes.
“You’re Monica’s father.
Oh my God.
It’s so nice to meet you.”
Michael holds out his hand.
“Yes, I am.”
“I’m Alan.
My husband Kyle and I live next door.”
Micheal’s eyes trace back to me before returning to Alan.
“Nice to meet you.
Glad you came to movie night.”
Alan turns to me.
“How’s Tammy?”
“As well as to be expected,” I say.
“Good.
Well, I won’t keep you two.
The movie starts at dusk.
Bring wine, and all will be fine,”
Alan, my sweet neighbor, says, waving his hands as he walks back to the door.
“Bye, Love.
Nice to meet you, Michael.”
The door shuts, and Michael smiles with questioning eyes.
“Yes.
Alan and Tyler are my gay neighbors.
They entertain the block with wine and movie night.
They host on their back patio, projecting onto their back shed.
It makes a great outdoor theater. They’re the best neighbors anyone could have, and the block loves them.”
“The movies or them?”
“Both.”
He smiles and wraps his arms around me like it’s all-natural.
I feel myself tensing and break away to open the wine.
“It’ll be a while before dinner is ready.
I’ll open and pour the wine.”
As I open the wine, Michael traces small circles on the exposed small of my back, and I chastise myself for wearing this dress.
It’s doing what I wanted.
Yet, I am tense.
“Here you go,”
I say, handing him a glass.
I take the other, and he holds it for a toast.
“To Tammy.”
“Yes, to Tammy,”
I say, and we sip.
“So, have you ever seen The Lakehouse?”
“No,”
he says and pulls me into his arms.
“Is it a romantic movie?”
“Yes.
So, now’s your chance to run.”
His hand is warm on my back, and I consider his eyes, waiting for his response.
“I know you hate all those sappy, lovey movies.”
Nothing.
He continues smiling into my eyes.
“Hallmark…ish.”
That should do it.
“I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather do than watch them with you.”
“Oh, come on, Michael.
I know better.”
“And so did I…now.”
He moves slowly to my lips and gently kisses me.
My arms are around his neck when we finish the kiss.
I don’t know what’s happening.
“Why don’t we sit on my patio? We can see and hear the movie from there while waiting for the lasagna.”
We move to the patio and sit with our wines.
We’re quiet, and Michael watches me with that smile.
The movie lights up the yard, and the music settles as the perfect ambiance.
“I forgot how much I loved the soundtrack to this movie,” I say.
“You’re beautiful, Jill.”
I try to look away but can’t.
Michael sets down his wine and takes mine.
“Please, I want to dance with you right here.”
I take his hand, and he holds me in his arms.
My heart slams against my ribcage, yet I feel relaxed.
Paul McCartney sings ‘This Never Happened Before’ as I lay my head against Michael’s heart.
He kisses my head, and I squeeze my arms tighter around him as we dance to the song’s cadence.
I don’t know how this is happening, and I’m not sure I care to know, but I’m enjoying this moment because this has never happened before.
I need a tactic.
A tactic to come back to my senses.
“Michael?”
“Hmm?”
“Tell me more about this woman you were going to marry.”
This subject will strike a nerve and open my eyes.
My heart can be easily deceived, but not my mind.
He lifts my chin to meet his eyes.
“She didn’t have these beautiful blue eyes.
She didn’t have this perfect nose,”
he says, kissing my nose.
He traces my cheek.
“She didn’t have these perfect high cheeks or this soft skin.”
He squeezes me tightly.
“She didn’t have this beautiful body.”
He traces my heart.
“She didn’t have this beautiful Jill heart.”
He takes my hand and gently rubs my open palm down his cheek.
“She didn’t make me feel this way when she touched me.”
My eyes blink with confusion and lustful sedation—it’s genuinely distracting.
How does Michael master something that repels my feelings and directs them into drawing me to him?
“You want to hear more?”
I can’t answer but stare into his eyes.
“She never made me feel like I wanted to make love to her the way I want to make love to you right now.”
I’m speechless, and he picks me up and carries me into the house.
How do I stop this?
He puts me down on my feet once we reach my bedroom.
“I never wanted to remove her dress like I want to remove yours,”
he says as he pulls my dress off.
I’m in a complete hypnotic state as he strategically places kisses over my naked body.
He steps to the side and begins to remove his clothes.
“I never undress, thinking how good it will feel to be inside her, like it’s going to feel when I make love to you, Jill.”
He picks me up and lays me down, crawling over me and opening my legs with his knee.
“She wasn’t you, Jill,”
he says, and I feel him enter me.
My chest heaves, and I whisper his name.
“Michael.”