Chapter 25
Now
As I drive to Ryan and Tammy’s, I contemplate what I’ve been doing with Michael.
Every day for the last month and a half, it’s flowers, Love Michael notes, some special dinners, and sometimes just burgers on the grill.
But whatever Michael does, it’s laced with…love, romance…and sex.
I’ve yet to let him stay the night—though his pleading doesn’t stop.
After the great sex, I put on my mask and pretended it was all recreational.
It’s called survival.
And survival is a tricky thing.
You must remember where all things lead—what to expect. At seventeen, I knew nothing about survival. When the one-way-loveless-marriage escalated to unbearable levels, I had no emotional strength at twenty-two—the day life slapped me in the face. Denial is lost when survival skills don’t exist. At the ripe old age of forty-two, I repeat my mantra daily. The best way to predict future behavior is past behavior.
Pulling into Ryan and Tammy’s drive, I cut the engine, repeat my mantra, and clear out Michael’s text: ‘Have a good day, Jill.
I love you.’ I won’t allow myself ever to say the words back and go inside only to find Tammy not ready for her chemo treatment today.
She looks gaunt.
Her hair has entirely fallen out, and recently she wears a terry cloth hat now.
But today, she’s not wearing it, and the life chemo has taken is fully showing itself today.
“Hey, honey.
Is everything okay? I’m here to take you…”
I don’t finish the words because even though I’m happy to be taking her, it’s killing her and me.
Chemo is nothing but poison, taking you to the edge of death.
“I’m sorry, Jill.
I thought Ryan called you.”
“No.
Ryan didn’t.
But it doesn’t matter.
I’m here now.
You can tell me.”
“I don’t think I can make it today, Jill.
I’m too weak.”
“Well, I can see that, honey.
Okay, do you want me to make you a comfy place on the couch or outside? Have you canceled your appointment?”
“Ah…I think Ryan did.”
“Let’s get you to the couch.
Tammy, haven’t they given you something to deal with the effects of chemo?”
“Yes, it’s this patch,”
she says, lifting her arm where a patch is stuck.
“But it doesn’t seem to be helping.”
“I will call the hospital and see if they have something stronger.
This is ridiculous.”
“No.
Don’t, Jill.
I don’t want any more chemicals in my body.
It’s draining the life out of me.”
“I know.
But I hate seeing you suffer.
You know that.”
“It’s part of it.”
She walks to the couch, where I follow her and help her lie down.
“What can I make you to eat?”
“Nothing.
Just smelling food makes me vomit.
No offense, Jill,”
she says, thinking she can lighten the situation.
“You need something.
You’ve lost too much weight.”
“Good.”
“Stop it.
You just don’t stop.”
She looks at me.
“I’m stopping now, Jill.”
“Well, good.
About time you… What do you mean you’re stopping now?”
I don’t like what she is insinuating.
“Chemo.
It’s only making me worse.”
“Tammy, we both know that’s how it does the job.
I know it must be so awful for you.
But we’ll get through this, and it will all be behind us.
You are stronger than this.
I’ll take care of you. I’ll do everything, so you don’t have to lift a finger.”
“Jill, you already are, and so are the girls and Ryan.
I don’t want to continue the treatment.”
“Stop it, Tammy,”
I yell, and it shocks us both.
My chest tightens, and I feel the burn behind my eyes.
“You are going to finish this, and you are going to be strong.
Beat this thing.”
“Jill,”
her voice is hoarse, and I feel bad that I must upset her
“Let’s get you some sunshine.
Lots of vitamin D.
I’ll take you to our private spot.
Just you and me.
You’ll feel better.”
“Jill, I know what you are trying to do, and I appreciate everything you have done.
But this is not about you.
It’s about me.”
“No, it’s not.
It’s about all of us.
You would be doing the same thing if it were me.
Remember how you lectured me, gave my ass a big kick, and told me to get my shit together? Well, get your shit together, Tammy.
We’re both going to kick this cancer’s ass.”
“Jill! Stop.
The cancer has progressed.
The treatment has had no effect on it.
It’s now about quality of life.
The life I have left.”
My body shakes, and all the survival tactics I had learned fly out the window.
Denial invades that spot once again.
“What? What are you saying?”
“Jill, we both have medical backgrounds.
You know what I’m saying.”
“No, I’m not listening to you.
You’re mistaken.
You are tired and weak, and I understand and…”
“Dammit, Jill.
Stop it and listen to me.
I don’t know how much time I have left.
And I don’t want to waste it fighting with you.”
“Oh, my God. Tammy…”
“Jill…”
I don’t have any words to offer—to her or myself.
So, I hold her—and we cry…and cry and cry.
I can’t believe this.
I don’t want to think about this.
How? What will I do without her? I don’t know if I should be angry at her or myself. Nothing makes sense at this moment. Nothing is fair at this moment.
“It should have been me,” I say.
Her chest heaves with cries and laughter.
“Now, why would you say that? Think you’re better than me?”
“Oh, Tammy.
It’s just that you have young girls and a wonderful marriage to Ryan.
Me? No marriage.
Monica has Jordan, so who would miss me?”
“Everyone, Jill.
Monica would be devastated if something happened to you.
She’s going to have babies, and you’ll become a grandmother.
And what about me? I will miss you so much.”
“Oh my God.
Let’s stop talking about this,”
I yell.
Just the thought of her not seeing her girls graduate, marry, or have children only adds to this atrocious unfairness life loves to heckle upon us.
I kiss her cheeks and taste our mixed tears.
I want to hold onto her for dear life, and maybe she will never be gone.
Since the age of four, there has not been a day we have not spoken or been in each other’s thoughts.
Our lives began when my mom babysat Tammy, and we grew up together—had chickenpox together.
We held hands as we started our first day of kindergarten together. We began our periods on the same day. My life coincides with hers, and I don’t know how I’ll go on.
“Jill.
You know what I want to do…today?”
“Anything you want,”
I say, crying.
“Have you got the next book in Fifty Shades?”
She smiles.
Minutes after telling me she doesn’t have long to live, she smiles.
The least I can do is smile at her.
“Yes, I downloaded it this morning.”
“I have to know what happens.
I’m all in now.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.
Let’s get all comfy on the couch or wherever you want.
The beach?”
“No.”
She looks out the back window.
“Up there in the girls’ treehouse.
It will be like old times when we used to steal your mom’s “True Romance”
magazines and read them in your treehouse.”
“Remember when we found Scott’s “Playboy”
magazines?” I say.
“Oh, God.
We had him blackmailed for life.
Your mom thought you and Scott had the best brother-sister relationship the way he took us wherever we wanted to go.
She had no idea the hell we were putting him through.”
“You go out to the tree house, and I’ll meet you there.
My purse and phone are still in the car.”
She thanks me with a kiss on the cheek and walks out the patio doors.
I watch her weak body climb the ladder, but she does make it, and I run to my car.
When I do, I see a text from Ryan.
Ryan: Jill, I didn’t call because I thought she might change her mind, or maybe you talked her out of it.
Me: I tried.
But even now, your wife is more vital than me.
I wait for his response, which doesn’t come, and head to the treehouse.
Tammy is all glassy-eyed and smiles.
“You ready?” I ask.
“Yep.
I need to know if Anastasia comes back.”
We curl up under the open spot in the treehouse, where the sun shines in, leaving the phone behind our heads as we lay on the blanket and start chapter one.
‘Fifty Shades Darker.’
. . . . .
Dear Jill, how was your day? I miss you.
Please let me take you to the lake tonight as we watch the sun go down together.
Love, Michael, the note on my car reads, along with a single red rose.
Coming to work today was hard after learning Tammy has so little time left.
I asked to be put on leave—to be there for Tammy and her family. The hospital said they would work with my schedule and give me the time needed.
I give Michael a quick text.
Me: I’ll be your guest.
Michael: Thank you.
I love you.
I read it, and I know he’s waiting.
But I won’t let my defenses down.
So, I drop the phone in the passenger seat and head home.
I change into a sundress and sandals when Michael rings the bell.
I open the door to another bouquet and a kiss.
“You are beautiful as always,” he says.
I assess his attire—cargo shorts and a white T-shirt.
He is handsome, but I’ll only address his look.
“You look…beachy.”
“If that’s a compliment, I’ll take it.”
“Have you eaten, or shall I make something?”
I ask, taking the bouquet to the kitchen.
Each day, a new bouquet—a patient gets flowers.
If I kept them all, my house would burst at the seams.
“We’ll get something in town,” he says.
“Oh? Well, just let me put these in some water.”
He waits and then holds my hand as we walk to his car.
Maybe I shouldn’t be with him tonight.
But Tammy made me promise I would give him a chance.
She doesn’t know I’m only using him for comforting sex.
And that makes me ashamed of myself.
In the car, he smiles differently at me.
I can’t place it and give my usual smile back.
I told him about Tammy’s decision, so maybe that’s what the lake is all about.
I tell myself I’m doing this for her—not myself or Michael.
He parks, and we walk hand in hand down to the beach.
To all the watchers, we are a couple in love.
Little do they know.
I’m not going in blind this time; sooner or later, I will need to end this before the new wears off and the old Michael shines through.
I know it will be coming. I just want to be in the driver’s seat for a while.
The sun is still high, and it’s early before the sun sets.
He suggests we walk down the coast and find a spot alone to watch the sunset.
As we walk, I can’t help but think of Tammy and how few sunsets she has left to watch.
Michael senses my despair and pulls me in.
“I’m truly sorry for Tammy.
I know how much she means to you.
Let me know if there’s anything I can do. I might know a doctor she could call—seek more advanced treatments.”
“You do? Yes, thank you, Michael.
I’m still not ready to give up on her.”
He kisses my forehead.
“I know.
Life is such a gift,”
he says, looking deep into my eyes.
We continue our walk along the coastline, ending with a sharp bend.
“We better go back and grab something for dinner before we miss the sunset.”
“It’s right around this bend.”
I crane my neck.
“Around there? I think that’s private property.”
He looks back.
“Yes, I believe you are right.
However, that is where our dinner is waiting.
Besides, they don’t own the water’s edge.”
He takes me by the hand and leads me around, stepping over large driftwood of trees and roots.
A small dam separates the beach from the other side, and he picks me up and carries me across the water.
“Michael, I don’t want to get yelled at for being on someone’s beachfront property.”
“There,”
he says, setting me to my feet.
Up ahead, I see a private cabana set with a table and chairs.
A breeze blows the curtain, displaying someone’s dinner and champagne.
Closer to the water, a fire burns low in a pit.
“See, that’s what I mean.
This is someone’s private property.”
“Yes, I know—mine. Come on,”
Michael says, pulling me along in the sand.
I was right.
Dinner has been set: lobster and corn on the cob.
“How did you get this all set up?”
“Monica and Jordan are staying here.
But tonight, it’s ours.”
“You bought this place?”
“Yes, it’s ours.
To use anytime.”
I look up the steep stairs and see Monica and Jordan smiling down.
I wave, and they wave back.
“Should still be hot, Dad,”
Monica yells down.
Michael gives her a thumbs-up.
“You two—I don’t believe this.”
“You like?”
I look around—private.
Quiet waves move in and out on the sand.
The sun sparkles down on the water, and I can’t help but be amazed.
“Yes, Michael.
It’s all charming.
But I hope you didn’t buy this place to have dinner.”
“I bought it for us, Jill.
I know you always wanted a place on the lake—camp on the beach and listen to the waves at night.”
He recalls something from our past.
Another request I had, only to be called dramatic and delusional.
“That was a long time ago, Michael.
People change.”
“Yes, I know.
People do change.
Stay with me on the beach tonight.
We can talk about anything you want.
You can cry in my arms for Tammy, and I’ll cry with you.”
“Why are you doing this, Michael?”
He gets down on one knee and takes my hand.
“Because I love you.”
He reaches into the pocket of his cargo shorts and pulls out…a ring.
He doesn’t say a word and pushes the ring up my finger.
I’m speechless—in shock.
He then looks up, and his eyes are full of remorse.
“Marry me, Jill.
Don’t answer now.
Wear the ring and think about it for a few days.
I know you have a lot on your mind with Tammy.
But…wear it, feel it on your hand, and know I love you and will always be here for you.”
“Michael…I…”
“Shh,”
he says and kisses the hand with his ring.
“Not now.
Let’s have dinner and enjoy the sunset.”