Chapter 35
Now
It has been six months, and I’m still holding my breath.
Every day with Michael, now my husband, has been a complete paradise.
I wake with kisses on my face, breakfast and coffee waiting for me when I leave the shower—and sweet notes inside my lunch bag packed by Michael.
Some days, I feel I’m in the twilight zone, and it will all fall apart sooner or later.
I don’t want to think this way, and I fear my thoughts will keep me locked in the past. Michael says we can’t rewrite the past, but we can write our future. Each day, the present is now our future. And I must remember this.
We live in my house—well, our house again.
Michael says this summer we’ll live at the beach house he bought.
The place he proposed to me.
And to tell you the truth, I’m looking forward to living on the beach.
It’s February now, and today is quite a snowy day. Even though there’s enough room for both vehicles in the garage, Michael keeps his outside, giving me complete access. Strange from the old days—the old Michael. The old Michael kept his car in the garage, and parked beside his car was his covered Corvette. My car always remained outside.
He waits for me at the garage entry door, holding my lunch.
And though there is no need, Michael has the garage door open with my car warming up inside.
He also drives me to the hospital each day.
It’s kind of cute.
While he drives, I catch up with Monica on the commute or talk to Ryan and the girls—checking in on things. It’s been tough with Tammy gone, but Ryan says they are coping.
Michael pulls from the drive, and I put Monica on speakerphone.
“Good morning, Sweetheart.
How are you and Jordan?”
I ask, and Michael also gives his greetings.
“Hi, Mom and Dad.
We’re great.
In fact, we were going to invite you and Dad over for dinner tonight.
If you don’t have any plans.”
“I don’t think so,”
Michael says.
“It will have to be late.
I’m working a twelve-hour shift.”
“That’s fine.
Jordan won’t be home until seven anyway.
I’m taking the day off.”
“Anything you want us to bring?”
Michael asks, now that he’s the stay-at-home husband.
“No, I have it covered.”
“Great, we’ll see you tonight.
Love you, Sweetheart.”
“Love you too,”
Michael says.
“Love you both. Bye.”
“Bye,”
we both say, and I end the call.
“Hmm.
I wonder what’s up,”
I say, and Michael shrugs his shoulders.
“Maybe she misses us.”
He smiles over at me and then pulls up at the hospital door.
“Maybe.”
He leans over and kisses me before I get out of the car.
“I love you, Jill.”
This has become his mantra each day…and little text throughout the day.
So not like the old Michael.
“I love you, too.”
Exiting the car, he pulls me in for one last kiss.
“See you for lunch?”
I look down at my bag.
“But you already packed me lunch.
But, yes…great.
I’ll meet you.
Just text me, and I’ll let you know where I’ll be.”
“Thanks.”
Now out of the car, I wave before walking through the doors.
It was hard coming back to work, knowing I would never see Tammy here again.
It’s hard knowing I’ll never see her anywhere again.
And she was right, I needed Michael for when she was gone.
It’s like she just knew. Maybe there is wisdom in death. One thing is for sure, it’s non-negotiable. I shiver just thinking about it and how she was so brave.
Stepping into ICU, my new position, I grab the chart and run through the patients on my schedule today.
Dorothy, Dotty she likes to be called, is first to have her meds administered through her IV.
I reference the correct dosage through the hospital depository and set forth to her room.
I feel my phone vibrate in my scrub pocket and give it a quick check.
Michael. Miss you already. I’m so happy, Jill. And so very lucky. I love you. With my hands full, I will have to remember to text him back.
When I walk in, Dotty is sleeping, and I notice her pale skin, but her vitals are stable—a little on the weak side.
She did go through surgery, and this can be rough for a seventy-eight-year-old lady.
Logging into the BCMA, I scan Dotty’s wristband, and the system accepts her as a patient.
I then scan her meds.
All is good, and I administer it through her IV.
“Don’t forget to text Michael back,”
I hear that whispery voice of Marilyn Monroe.
There she is, sitting in the bay of the window.
The morning sun glowing around her like an angel.
Of course, she’s an angel.
She’s my Tammy.
“It’s good to see you,”
I say, logging out of the BCMA.
“You’ve been quiet lately.”
“I’ve been busy spooking around the Kennedys.
The ones I can find, that is.”
I laugh and finish recording Dotty’s information for this morning.
“I will text him back.
Don’t worry.
Of all the places you could be, you came to work?”
I tease her.
But I’m glad she is here.
She hops down and straightens her white dress and walks over to Dotty’s bedside.
“She was always my favorite,”
she says.
“I took care of her through both hip replacements.”
Tammy—Marilyn, rubs her fingers down Dotty’s cheek.
Dotty stirs a little and then opens her eyes.
She looks at Tammy like she can see her and smiles.
“It’s you,”
she faintly croaks out.
Tammy looks at me.
“I thought you were just my imagination.
Dotty sees you?”
“Yep.
Dotty can.
I’m here to care for her.”
And when she says this, her eyes turn sad.
“You…what? What are you? Some Marilyn Monroe angel of death?”
“Yes.
I’m sorry, Jill.
But Dotty’s not going to pull through this one.
She knows it, and she’s ready.”
My eyes swell with tears.
“Oh, my God,”
I whisper.
Poor Dotty, I think and look down at her.
Her eyes are closed, and there’s a smile on her lips.
I hold her hand, and she gives a weak squeeze.
She knows I’m here and she is telling me she is ready. I lean down and kiss her cheek. “You’re in good hands, Dotty. In some ways, I’m jealous. I hope she comes when it’s my turn,”
I whisper close to her face.
Again, she smiles, never opening her eyes.
I look up, and Tammy’s gone.
I look back one last time before leaving her room, hoping to see Tammy again.
But she’s not there.
But I do hear her whisper.
Text him back.
. . . . .
Michael opens the car door as I exit the hospital.
It’s dark, and the snow is still falling.
With a kiss on the lips, he smiles and tells me he misses me and loves me even though he was just here for lunch six hours ago.
“I love you, too,”
I tell him.
“How are the roads?”
“Not too bad.
The plows have been keeping up.
It’s beautiful though.
Don’t you think?”
Michael asks, looking over at me.
I laugh.
“You? You think the snow is beautiful? You hating snow was how Monica learned the word, fuck.”
Placing my hand over my mouth, I laugh and start to cry at the same time.
He touches my leg.
“Hey, Baby.
What’s the matter?”
I shake my head, wiping under my eyes.
“I lost a patient today.
Dotty.
Tammy and I were her favorite nurses.
But she went in peace. I…I felt it happening and called her family in so they could be there. Otherwise, it would have been too late.”
“I’m sorry.
That must be hard.”
Looking out the windshield, I watch the snow fall to the ground.
It is beautiful and peaceful.
“It never gets any easier.”
“There comes a time when you realize there are two people on each shoulder.
And one of them is death.
That’s when we hope we have become allies with death.”
He looks at me and then goes back to the road.
Maybe I should ask about his friend who died.
I quickly change clothes, and Michael grabs a bottle of wine, and we head out across town to Monica and Jordan’s.
With the passing of Dotty, I need my family all around me, and I’m glad she called and invited us tonight.
The snow is still falling, and the roads are a little slick.
Yet, Michael continues his love of the snow.
“Tomorrow, since you don’t have to work, we are building a snowman,”
he says, bringing my hand up to his lips.
I give him a skeptical look.
“Who are you, and what have you done with Michael Danforth?” I tease.
“Here in the flesh, Baby.”
He winks, and my heart stirs.
We pull into Monica and Jordan’s drive, and Michael parks the car and comes around to help me out—such a gentleman in everything he does.
But still, I find myself holding my breath.
“Oh, my gosh, look at the snow,”
Monica says, meeting us at the door.
Michael’s and my eyes meet, and we share a laugh between them.
“Come in, guys.
What’s so funny?”
she asks, shutting the door and taking our coats.
“Oh, your father and I were talking about the snow on the way over.”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“The snow was how you learned the ‘f’ bomb.”
“What?”
she laughs.
“Why would I say that because of snow?”
“Ask your father,”
I say and walk away.
Jordan kisses my cheek, and I give him a big hug.
“How’s my favorite son-in-law?”
“I’m great, Jill.
The roads are getting bad out there.
You have any trouble getting across town?”
“Not too bad.”
“It was a struggle getting home from work.
I’m glad Monica stayed home today.”
I turn to Monica, who is now laughing with Michael over the snow and f-bomb incident.
“Did your company close today?” I ask.
“No, I just wasn’t feeling well.”
She looks over at Jordan.
“Well, Honey, if you’re not feeling well, we could have come a different night.”
“No, it’s fine Mom.
I’m feeling better now.
Let’s move to the dining room.
I have everything ready.”
Michael wraps his arm around me, and we move into their dining room, where Monica has prepared a beautiful display of white dishes with miniature pink and white carnations centering the table in a vase.
A card has been propped up against it that says: Mom and Dad.
“Your setting is gorgeous, Sweetheart.
You need to start your own interior design.”
“Thank you, Mom.
You and Dad have a seat.
Jordan will bring in the pot roast.”
“Mmm, pot roast.
Perfect on such a snowy night,”
Michael says and reaches for the envelope that has been addressed to the both of us.
“What’s this?”
“Well…just wait until Jordan’s here and then you and Mom can open together.”
She smiles, a bit unsure and I look over at Michael.
“Ok.
I can’t wait,” I say.
Jordan sets the dish with the pot roast, and they both take a seat.
“Okay, now you can open it,”
Monica says, her voice ringing with excitement.
Michael pulls out a homemade card with pink and blue carnations and opens it up to read.
“Roses are red, violets are blue.
August fourth, your first grand baby is due.”
My mouth drops.
“Congratulations, Sweetheart,”
Michael says and stands to go kiss his daughter.
He shakes Jordan’s hand, braces his shoulder.
“Congrats, man.”
“Mom? Are you going to say anything?”
I’m still sitting, and I’m in shock.
“Are you happy for us, Mom?”
Monica, Jordan, and Michael all look at me from across the table.
She’s pregnant.
My baby is pregnant.
I need to say something.
“Jill?”
I hear Michael say.
“Ah…yes baby, I’m happy for you.
But don’t you think it’s a little early to be having a baby? I mean, you and Jordan need some time.
Time to be…just a couple.”
Why am I saying this? I should be jumping for joy.
It’s another blessing in Monica’s life—my life.
I’m going to be a grandmother.
“I mean…you’re so young.”
“You were seventeen when you had me.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t plan to have you at seventeen.
Monica, I’m barely in my forties, and I’m still learning how to deal with…life…and motherhood.”
“So…you’re not happy for us, Mom.”
“No, Honey, I didn’t say that.
Of course, I am.
But have you thought this through? You work, and I still work.
Who will be caring for your child?”
“I will,”
Michael states as a matter of fact.
I laugh.
“You? Michael, it was like pulling teeth to get you to watch your own daughter.
What makes you think you’re even qualified?”
“Because I want to.
It will be alright, Jill.
I couldn’t be happier to become a grandfather and to help raise and take care of them.
It’s a second chance.”
“Daddy, do you really want to babysit?”
He takes Monica in his arms.
“You bet I do, Sweetheart.”
He kisses her forehead.
“Thank you so much for giving me a chance to become a grandfather.
You know how much this means to me.”
I don’t know if he’s stating or asking.
“I would love that, Daddy,”
she says, and the two of them embrace again.
What is all the Daddy talk? Have I been in a weird coma for the last twenty years, dreaming that Michael and I were divorced? And all along, I’ve been the one missing?
“This is unbelievable,”
I state.
My family looks over at me, still waiting for my acceptance of this baby.
I’m back in my old bedroom, reading the positive pregnancy test as Tammy rubs my back.
“This is happening, Jill.
You’re so lucky to be able to live and see the birth of your first grandchild.”
I hear Tammy say in her Marilyn’s voice.
Looking up, she’s standing next to them, and I suddenly feel like a piece of shit.
I’m once again letting my tragic beginning affect Monica’s present.
Something I swear I would never do.
Tammy’s right. How selfish of me to feel this way when she will never hold her own.
“Oh, Baby, I’m so sorry.
Yes.
Oh my God.
Yes.
I’m so happy.”
I rush over and take her in my arms.
“I’m going to be a grandma.
I can’t believe it.
My baby is having a baby.”
She smiles with tears in her eyes, and I too have tears.
“Thank you, Mom.
I’m going to need you through this.”
“Of course, Baby.
I’ll always be here.
Oh, my God, I need a tissue…my nose is running…my eyes are running. Ahh,”
I shake with excitement.
“You’re having a baby.”
I turn to Jordan.
“I know you’re going to be such a great father to my grandchild, Jordan.
You take such good care of my daughter.”
“Thank you, Mom.
I can’t wait to be a father.
And I’m so honored to have your blessing.”
“I guess you won’t be having any wine that I brought tonight,”
Michael says.
“No, Daddy.
But thanks.
And…Daddy, thanks for wanting to help raise this baby,”
she says and puts her hand on her tummy.
I’m going to be a grandmother.
Michael and I are going to be grandparents.