Perfect for Him

Perfect for Him

Suzanne Jenkins

Perfect for Him by Suzanne Jenkins Perfect for Him. Copyright © 2015 by Suzanne Jenkins. All rights reserved. Created in digital format in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations in blog posts and articles and in reviews. Perfect for Him is complete and total work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

For information on the Greektown trilogy, the Pam of Babylon series, and other works by author Suzanne Jenkins, please refer to the ‘Also by…’ section at the end of this novel.

Chapter 1 Dog days of late August, the perfect backdrop in which to hear a terminal diagnosis, Harley Jones thought as she walked to her car. The smell of tar and garbage mingled with the wind and the heat, like a big, stinking convection oven. It was the afternoon and the streets of Philadelphia were sweltering. The first time she’d made the trip to the same medical center two years ago was also during August, but she wasn’t alone that time, accompanied by Devon, then four-yearsold, who enjoyed spending the day in town with Mommy. The receptionist, a chubby, older woman named Fern, frowned when she saw the little girl. “The doctor will want to examine you,” she said looking down at Devon. “That’s fine,” Harley said. “My sitter had a problem at the last moment and I didn’t think I should cancel.” “I’m glad you didn’t,” she replied. Scratching her cheek, she glanced around her cubical. “If you’d like, she can come back here with me and play secretary when it’s time for you to go in. It might be more comfortable for her than going in the exam room.” “That’s very nice of you to offer,” Harley said, pleased, not the response she expected when showing up for an appointment with a child in tow. “Devon, you’d like playing secretary behind the window with Miss Fern, wouldn’t you?” The little girl smiled and nodded her head quickly. “Yes, Mommy. I’d like it.” “Have a seat, and fill this out,” Fern said, handing Harley a clipboard with a halfinch thick pile of papers. “And here’s some paperwork for you too, Devon.” Devon took the paper and pen and followed Harley to the seating area where they worked quietly for fifteen minutes. A woman in a nursing uniform stuck her head out of a door to the side of the

reception window. “Mrs. Jones, follow me please.” Harley stood up, reaching for Devon’s hand. They walked through the door and paused at the reception cubical. “Welcome to reception,” Fern said smiling, and Devon happily went inside to sit beside her, well taken care of for the next twenty minutes. Harley felt sick, following the nurse through a maze of corridors until they reached a stuffy exam room. The nurse weighed her and stuck a thermometer under her tongue, took her blood pressure and put a pulse oximeter clip on her finger. “Dr. Michaels will be right in,” she said, putting the equipment away. “Take your blouse and bra off and put this on, opening to the front, please.” Harley did as told, looking at her reflection in the shiny metal of the paper towel dispenser. At that first visit, before she’d ever met Dr. Michaels, she didn’t know that someday they’d be friends. She was sorry that she wasn’t fully clothed at this first meeting, with him sitting behind a desk, a framed photo of his wife and son to the left and her file of reports to the right. Pulling the paper gown around her, a chill went through her body, just as he tapped on the door and walked through without waiting for her response. “Jeremy Michaels,” he said, sticking out his hand. “Harley Jones,” she replied. “I know Dr. Forman well,” he said, referring to the surgeon who’d done her biopsy. “He called me especially to talk about your case. Can you repeat what you know? I just want to make sure we’re on the same page, that I understand what you understand.” “Dr. Forman said I have Stage IV Inflammatory Breast Cancer. He said because of my age and the type of cancer, I had to act fast. He said I’d most likely have six weeks of chemo, surgery and then radiation.” “The protocol for your type of cancer is changing all the time. We won’t wait six weeks for surgery.” “I wasn’t expecting surgery so soon,” she said, feeling sick. Her cheeks were quivering and she was willing herself not to throw up, not to cry. He offered her his hand. “I know this is upsetting. It’s understandable.” She took a deep breath and released his hand, searching for a tissue. He turned to the counter and grabbed a box, offering it

to her. “The plus side of this is that you’ll be done with surgery and not have it looming.” “What happens first?” “I have the results of your PET scan here, and it shows a small lesion on your liver.” Harley held on tightly to the exam table. The probability that the cancer had spread to her lymph nodes was huge, but to her liver already? That was unexpected. “Because of it, we decided we want you to have two rounds of chemo before surgery.” Harley’s head was spinning. It was late August. She had three children to get ready for school. Could she do it in three weeks? A lesion on her liver…already? “School is starting soon. This couldn’t happen at a more inconvenient time.” He grinned at her, trying to downplay the trauma she was going to face. “Something tells me you’ll do fine,” he said. “Easy for me to say. My wife does all the school preparation stuff.” Harley laughed, the human side of the doctor revealed. Jason, her husband, would buy school supplies, shoes and backpacks and she’d do the clothes. Her mother-in-law was awesome, babysitting and helping with shopping. “I have three in school, including teens. It won’t be easy getting it done in the next three weeks. I’ll have to hustle.” The possibility that she’d get sick from the chemo didn’t occur to her, eating up more of the time she had allotted for school shopping, and he purposely didn’t mention it. They chatted about their families and then he asked if he could look at her biopsy site. He put gloves on and peeled back the gauze. She watched his face, expecting him to frown, knowing it was bad. “Yes, we need to move fast.” The punch biopsy site was not healing as it should have been. Her husband asked to look at it daily, sometimes more than once. “Will I have a lumpectomy?” Harley asked, hopeful. “I forgot to ask Andy.” Andy Forman, her surgeon. The doctor looked into her eyes. “Lumpectomy isn’t indicated for inflammatory cancer,” he said, a hint of regret in his voice which he would curse himself for later. Harley felt the blood drain from her face, pinpricks of fear. A mastectomy? Afraid to ask about reconstruction in case it too wasn’t warranted and needing that buffer, she

didn’t respond to his answer. “Fern will set up your first appointment for chemo. The pharmacy will mix a special agent for your type of cancer. Any questions?” Harley shook her head, frowning. She’d live in a state of denial for the next twentyfour hours, not thinking about anything but what tasks she could get done right then while she was in town. “If you think of anything, call me. My service will put you through.” Harley looked up at him, grateful for his interest, but at the same time it frightened her. Why was he being so nice? “Are you this available to all your patients? Or am I dying?” he was honestly taken aback and she saw it in his face. “No, you are not dying and yes, I do try to be available, especially to nurses who work at the same hospital I do.” She grabbed his hand and laughed, sorry immediately. “I’m sorry. I’m a train wreck.” Putting his hand over hers, he smiled. “You’ll do well,” he said, and she believed him. “Get dressed. Fern will schedule your appointments for you.” Harley thanked him and slipped off the table. She thought of the calls she needed to make, her hysterical mother who’d offered to take a day off work and drive up from Delaware, her sisters, her girlfriends. She’d wait until Jason got home from work to unload on him. What had started out to be a routine health scare in the middle of the night, no big deal, one in eight women, was turning into a nightmare with immediate chemo, surgery sooner than later, and the scary words hanging in front of her face, a liver lesion. Later that afternoon, Devon riding in the grocery cart with a new toy, awarded for being so patient and well-behaved all day, Harley stopped at the meat counter to select as many dinner choices as she could for the next weeks to make life a little easier. Chicken in every form for baked chicken, potpie and noodle soup, stuff to make chili and spaghetti sauce, pork chops and steak, lots of burger, a roast. As she was leaving the beef section, a slab of liver caught her eye, its glistening membrane stretched over the lobes, even a vessel orifice, the round interior of it beckoning exploration with a pinkie finger. It made her sick, tempting her to put all the

meat she’d carefully chosen back, make a commitment to veganism. Where was the lesion in her liver? Forgetting where she was, her hand unconsciously went to her breast. Her right breast. “Well, look who’s here!” She looked up and her older sister, Melissa stood at the side of the basket, her big, eight-month pregnant belly getting in the way, one-year-old Greg on her hip. Harley was the baby of the family, but she found love early in life. For Melissa, it had come later, in the past two years. “Wow, look at all that food.” Almost slipping, asking what are you planning for? Melissa remembered Harley had an oncology appointment that morning. “Did you go into the city today?” Examining her sister’s pale face, Melissa knew before Harley said a word that it had not been good. What she was planning for was disaster. Taking a deep breath, willing her emotions to stay numb, Harley nodded. “I did. This poor kid has been dragged through the hospital, mall, bank, the post office, you name it.” They made over Devon, patting her head. “Do you want me to take her?” Melissa loved motherhood and adding another child, especially a beloved niece to her retinue was not a big deal. “Yes,” Devon said, answering for Harley, struggling to get out of the seat. “I’ll go with Aunt Melissa.” “Are you sure?” Harley asked Melissa, choking down a sob. “You have your hands full.” “I’m fine,” Melissa said. “Come on kiddo, hop in. Just push the eggs aside.” With Devon in the basket, Greg agreed to sit in the seat. “See, I needed her to occupy Mister Greg,” Melissa said, buckling him in. The little boy smiled while Devon tickled him under the chin. “Thank you, sis. I’m almost finished shopping. I’ll call you when I get home.” She’d pick Devon up later, before bedtime. They leaned in for a peck on the cheek. “You’re welcome. Enjoy freedom for a few hours.” Melissa quickly turned away, chattering to the children, swallowing back her own

tears. She didn’t need to know what was happening with Harley’s health because she just didn’t think she’d be able to tolerate anything negative, but would invest every spare second she had into caring for her sister and her family. Harley pushed the cart up and down the aisles, grabbing anything that looked remotely tasty, loading up heavily on convenience foods, just in case. She could always open a box of pasta and a can of sauce if she was too exhausted to cook. Jason tried to fill in, but she never cared for anything he prepared. Jason was a nurse anesthetist; she was a staff nurse in the post-anesthesia recovery room. They’d worked together for years and by now their routine worked like a welloiled machine. This glitch might be nothing, but it could also mess everything up. Jason had discovered it. They were lying in bed talking, not having sex; he wasn’t consciously feeling her breasts, his hand armed draped across her chest. She was on her back looking up at the black ceiling, listening to him talking about his father’s anger because they weren’t driving to Sea Isle City that weekend. “He can’t believe I’d rather spend a weekend cutting the grass than fighting shore traffic to stay in a summer cottage with my brother and his kids.” Harley laughed. “It’s not that bad, and the lack of space doesn’t bother me,” she said. “The kids and I love it there. If you change your mind, I’d be happy to go. We haven’t been in a while. The kids ask about it every week.” “What’s this?” Jason sat up and leaned over her to switch the bedside light on. Shielding her eyes, Harley sat up, too. “Hey buddy, I’ve got to be up by four-thirty.” “Take this off,” he said, pulling her t-shirt over her head. “Jason, get real,” she whined. “We can do it tomorrow.” “No, not that,” he said softly, going for her breast again. “I felt something. Here, give me your hand.” She put out her hand and he took it and pressed it over her right breast. “Ew, that’s new. I exam my breasts after my period and it’s coming up. Maybe it’s a swollen milk duct or a gland.” “It feels like a swelling,” he said, pressing his fingertips over her breast. “Let me see it.” She stuck her breast out closer to the light. Whatever was in there had pulled the skin in, its texture like that of orange peel. Bile rose in his throat.

“I’ll talk to Andy Forman in the morning,” he said, his best friend who was a surgeon, breast surgery his specialty. “Jason, I’ll talk to him myself. You’re outta control.” He laughed, turning to switch the light off again, not like his heart wasn’t racing, his mouth so dry it was hard to answer. “I like to be in charge of my women,” he said when he could speak. “When was your last mammogram?” “I’m only thirty-six,” she said. “You don’t get them till you’re forty.” “I guess I should know that,” he replied. “Why should you? Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to Andy myself tomorrow morning,” she repeated. “Let’s get some sleep.” “I love you, Harley,” he said. “Love you too, Jay.” She kissed him on the cheek and rolled over with her back to him, wide-awake. Very slowly so he wouldn’t know, she inched her hand up under her t-shirt and started feeling around where the thickened area was…it was swollen and hot. The skin felt leathery there. Reaching to her armpit, she felt around and there it was; a painful swelling in her body that wasn’t there before, the heat spreading through her as fast as the dread. What the hell was this? She was as regular as clockwork with her monthly breast exams. Did she miss a month? But then she remembered, it was June, her period came at the end of May. Right after Memorial Day she did it and there were no discernible lumps or changes, unless she missed something. Within minutes she could finally hear his breathing switch to the rhythmic breath of sleep. Very carefully, she slipped out of bed and tiptoed out to the hallway, going quietly down the hall to the den where she kept her lap top, spending the rest of the night reading everything she could about breast cancer.

Chapter 2 Exhausted after their night of little sleep, the couple got up before dawn. Jason’s mother, Granny Fran arrived to babysit at six. “Don’t say anything to her,” Harley said. “The last thing we need is for the parents to start hovering. It’s probably nothing.” But she had a sick feeling after what she’d read online and looking at her breast in the mirror that it wasn’t a nothing. “Okay, whatever you want,” Jason said. “Are you going to speak to Forman or can I?” “Let me, please. It’ll be awkward enough as it is. He’s there today.” It was a Friday; the day breast surgeon, Andy Forman did biopsies. Jason and Harley took separate cars on Friday; it was always busy, neither knew if they’d be getting off work on time. Walking out to the garage together, Jason bent down to kiss her goodbye. “Let me know when you talk to him,” he said. She nodded and got into her car. Focusing on getting to work and doing a good job was how she liked to spend the ride. They lived in the suburbs but worked in the city at a big teaching hospital. If she had to get sick, it was the best place to be. Jason was giving anesthesia in Andy’s room that day as usual, and although he knew his wife would probably get angry with him, he said something as soon as he was able. Jason and Andy were friends who played tennis and went on trips to watch baseball games for their favorite teams. Jason was setting up his anesthesia machine when Andy walked in with a pro-tennis catalog. He didn’t even say hello; it was the kind of friendship they had. “Look at this racket,” he said. “It only weighs nine ounces.” He stood next to Jason, oblivious to the activity going on around him with the nurses preparing the room for his patients.

“Did Harley talk to you yet?” “I didn’t see her. Why would she need to talk to me?” Andy put the catalog on Jason’s machine. “I’m getting that racket.” “You already have a good racket. She has a change in her breast. It’s hot to the touch and is swollen and red, the skin over it is all puckered. It doesn’t look good to me.” Andy headed out the door. “Is she in recovery?” Jason nodded his head.

***

The post-anesthesia recovery room would get busy after the first case of the day finished and the patient was brought in to recover. It was just seven o’clock; anesthesia personnel visited patients in the holding area as they waited for their surgery to begin, the nursing staff for the OR got their rooms set up for the first cases, and the surgeons met for coffee in the lounge, getting old dictation out of the way, calling in orders for patients. Harley was the first nurse to arrive in the recovery room; she’d leave by three unless they got slammed or someone called out sick. Alone in the unit with the anesthesia technician Carol, they went to each station together, preparing to receive patients. Andy Forman came in looking for her. “Hey, Harley,” he said, smiling. “Hey, Andy. Need anything?” “I was just talking to Jason,” he said softly. Harley looked at Carol and shrugged her shoulders. “You be okay if I leave for a minute?” Carol nodded and smiled. “We can talk in here,” Harley said, pointed to the medication room. “What’s going on?” he asked. “I mean I know what’s going on, but you tell me.” “He found a swelling on my breast last night. Right here. She pointed to her right breast. And my armpit hurts. Like I’ve been lifting weights.” “Have you been?” “Lifting weights? No.” Andy looked out the medication room window at the dark recovery room, thinking. “Let’s get a mammogram. I’ll call radiology and talk to Sam Friedman. Tell your

boss you have an emergency and have to leave the unit for a while. I’ll let you know the time as soon as I call over there. There’s no point in doing anything until I see your films.” “Okay, well thanks,” Harley said. “Tell my husband thanks, that I said hi.” She smiled at him, trusting him. Harley was private, and Jason knew that. She’d let it slide this time, but they better not chit chat about her breasts in the room. Her private health issues weren’t OR conversation. “And mums the word!” “Absolutely,” he said with a salute, leaving the recovery room. Harley returned to help Carol stock carts and untangling monitor lines. It was going to be a long day.

***

South of Philadelphia, in Delaware, Harley’s mother, Maryanne Blum was awake for work early, too, unaware yet of the drama unfolding in her daughter’s life. Maryanne was a nurse, as was her mother and grandmother. All the women, including Melissa went to nursing school at Saint Katherine’s in Baltimore, except for Harley. Harley was a university-educated nurse. Maryanne thought of this as she buttoned up the front of her white uniform, and polished her white shoes, making sure the laces received a good coating. Pale blond hair braided down her back, she’d pinned it into a bun so it wouldn’t fall into patient’s barf or wet beds. For the past seventeen years, she’d worked at the same nursing home three blocks from home. “Come on Kristy,” she called to her little dog. “Let’s get coffee.” The fluffy white dog hopped down off the bed and followed Maryanne into the kitchen. She loved her house, a trailer in an over fifty-five community. Having moved in long before she was a senior citizen, Harley’s dad was fifteen years older than Maryanne. A fabulous location close to the beach, it had every amenity available including a car service, laundry, housekeeping, even a putting green and tennis court. The only thing Maryanne used was the pool. But not today. Having to work five more years before she could retire, she couldn’t wait for that day to come. Her life had revolved around raising her family and the day

each girl became eighteen, she was presented with a choice, either get a full-time job anywhere and move on, or go to school and work part time. There was no time to waste. Everyone in the household worked for the good of the family, and by the time they were twenty-one, all of her kids were educated and gainfully employed. “You’d never see my kid sitting around like that,” was a common phrase heard at their house. Harley was the youngest, and when she graduated from high school, she was the only one of the Blum girls to get a scholarship. “You’re going to get a full paid ride to Drexel and you’re going into nursing? What’s wrong with you?” Melissa had said. “Do something different. I’m so sick of hearing bedpan stories I could scream.” But Harley just laughed at her. “I want to belong,” she said. “You’re a nurse, Mommy’s a nurse, Kelly wanted to be a nurse.” Kelly was their wonderfully crazy middle sister; she tried nursing school but couldn’t take the needles and dying people and math questions on the tests. Kelly did the next best thing; she became a fitness trainer, working at a gym owned by the man she ended up marrying. The three sisters were touchstones to each other, inseparable and available for any crisis. Now this. After Andy Forman went back to the OR to begin his cases for the day, first calling his office and leaving instructions to schedule Harley’s mammogram, she did her job in a fog. The Surgical Services nurse manager, Sally Albertson was a kind woman who understood the needs of her staff, often filling in when there was an absence. She would do the same for Harley, who rarely came to her with problems. “I have a thickening in my breast and need a mammogram this morning if they can fit me in.” “Oh no,” she said, looking off into space, thinking of what it would mean to lose a nurse like Harley before answering. “Do you want to go home?” “No, no it’s not necessary,” she said. “I have to be here for the test anyway. If I can leave for a bit I’ll come right back.” “Okay, dear. No problem. Come to get me and I’ll fill in. Your colleagues will love that!” They laughed together; the few employees who played the system would have to pretend they were working while the boss was in the department.

Harley got her first patient, one of Andy Forman’s breast biopsy patients, scared and crying. The young woman named Peggy Herndon didn’t think she’d survive a cancer diagnosis. “I have a newborn. My husband is in the Navy and our family is out west. There’s no one but the two of us. We had to bring the baby this morning.” Harley thought she’d heard a crying baby earlier and the woman confirmed it. She stayed close to her patient, letting her talk, her own fear building. “I hope I don’t have to wait too long to get a diagnosis,” she cried. Harley patted her hand, thinking about what she was saying. Why would they wait? The routine at their hospital had been to do a frozen section biopsy and let the patient know what they were dealing with right away. “Let me see what I can find out.” Harley asked another nurse to keep an eye on Peggy while she gathered information. Grabbing a hair cover, she went out into the OR corridor to find the room Andy was in. The scheduling board said he was in room eleven, around the hall, in a more secluded place where patients undergoing procedures with local anesthesia would less likely be traumatized by the activity of major surgeries and possible traumas coming in. Coming to the room, she saw Jason sitting at the head of the table with his anesthesia equipment, mask on, talking to the patient behind the anesthesia screen. On the other side of it, Andy was in his sterile gear and his nurses worked with him at the field and beyond. She didn’t want to go into the room and disturb the case so she opened the door just an inch and said “Pssst.” The circulating nurse, Joan Claridge, a friend from nursing school, saw her and came right over. “What’s up, Cutie Pie?” she said. “Ask Andy if Mrs. Herndon will get her results today. I’m checking because I know the policies keep changing and she’s worried sick.” Joan went back to the sterile field and spoke to Andy who looked up at the door and nodded to Harley. “He said to tell her he’ll have a report before she’s discharged from recovery. He already got it and she’s got cancer.” Harley’s heart sunk. Thanking Joan, she went back to the recovery room. “You’ll get the results this morning,” Harley said reaching for Peggy’s hand, smiling, lying. But that was her role, thank heaven. She didn’t give patients the tough news. All

she had to do was help them get through it. “Harley, you have a call,” Carol said, interrupting her reverie. She let go of Peggy’s hand. “You’ll be going back to Same Day Surgery soon, but Dr. Forman will talk to you before you leave recovery.” “Okay, thank you,” Peggy said. “Thank you for staying with me.” Harley smiled and walked away, guilty her own issues interfered with what she thought she was able to give her patients. The phone was off the hook, waiting for her. “Harley Jones,” she said into the receiver. “Hi, it’s Anne in the Women’s Center. We have you scheduled for a mammogram at one.” “Okay, I’ll be there,” she answered. It was only eight in the morning. Five hours to get through without making a mistake for worrying, stretched ahead. At twelve-thirty, Jason came looking for her. They’d waved at each other whenever he brought a patient in, giving her report if it was her patient, but nothing personal. “Can you get away?” he whispered. “I’ll ask Sally to relieve me,” she said. He followed her to the office and the nurse manager came right out as she said she would, smiling at Jason. He was a favorite among the women of the Operating Room. Jason and Harley walked to the lounge together. “Andy told me your mammogram was scheduled for one. I’m going with you.” Harley stopped in the hall and looked at him, frowning. “You don’t have to,” she said. It didn’t feel right. They weren’t the kind of couple that went with each other to the doctor. She wasn’t comfortable with everyone in the OR knowing their business, either. “I want to. I’m doing them a favor, staying late tonight because they expect the schedule to go late. Ortho has three add-ons. I can go to lunch with my wife.” “Andy didn’t talk about it in front of Joan and the others did he?” Jason stopped and took her by the shoulders. “No, of course not. No one will know about it.”

“I am just on the edge of screaming,” she said honestly. “This is not a good time for health issues. Both of the older girls are on the soccer team this year, and Bennie wants to swim.” “She can choose one,” Jason said. “Those girls are out of control.” But he laughed at how unfair his assessment was. Their girls were wonderful teenagers, excellent students who were kind and well-behaved. “Forget it,” he said. “She can do whatever she wants.” “It’s probably nothing. It’s the unknown that’s making me crazy.” She thought of Peggy Herndon and her newborn. Jason grabbed a cover gown and gave one to Harley, helping her get her arm through. “If it’s not the beautiful people!” Al Conlon, Chief of Surgery and known jokester opened the door to the lounge. “Going for a little afternoon delight?” “I wish,” Jason replied laughing. “You’re both disgusting,” Harley said shaking her head. They walked out to the elevator hand in hand, silent. “I love you,” Jason said. “You, too,” Harley replied. They rode the elevator with other hospital workers, the smell of cafeteria food permeating the car. They got off on the appropriate floor. The radiologist, John Randolph, was waiting for them. “Have your procedure and I’ll look at the films. Andy Forman is waiting to hear from me.” Harley’s heart raced; she wasn’t used to the red carpet treatment anywhere, and didn’t really want it for this issue, everybody at the beck and call of her ailing breast. “Come with me,” Anne said, smiling. She explained the routine to her; take off everything above the waist, wipe off her deodorant with the wipes provided. Put the gown on with the opening to the front. “Does it hurt?” Harley asked. “Yes,” Anne replied shortly. “Just breathe through it. It’s just a quick smashing of the flesh.” Her dour delivery was just right for Harley and she started to laugh with such gusto that Jason could hear it as he chatted with the radiologist about tennis.

“My wife rarely lets it out. Someone must be good back there.” “Anne’s hysterical,” John said. The mammogram was just as Anne had said; a quick smashing of Harley’s breasts. They had her wait in the room while Dr. Randolph checked them over in case he needed more views. “These are perfect. Have her get dressed,” he said. He put the first one back up on the light box and invited Jason over to look. Pointing, his concern was obvious. “This is very suspicious. See how the skin is thickened? That’s what we’re looking for. I can see shadows beginning in her axilla. That’s not a good sign either.” Jason was thinking he’d like to faint. Just keel over and be done with it. “I’ll get in touch with Andy Forman right away. He’ll probably want to do a punch biopsy. It includes a piece of the skin, unlike biopsies for lumps, in which the surgeon removes the lump. A punch biopsy will be the least disturbing to the surrounding tissue.” He took the film down and turned to Jason, who was holding on to the desk, pale and sweating. “Hey buddy, you okay? You better have a seat.” “No, I need to go out to my wife. She’s probably having a cow waiting.” “Okay, I’ll be gentle with her,” he said. They walked out into the waiting room together. As soon as Harley saw Jason, she pursed her lips and shook her head. “You okay?” She asked. He nodded his head. “Your mammogram is suspicious for inflammatory breast cancer, Harley. I’ll call Andy now and he’ll talk to you both about the next step, which will be a biopsy. Do you have any questions?” “Thanks, no. I guess I’m more worried about Mr. Jones, here. Come on; let’s get back to the OR.” Jason took her arm while Dr. Flanagan put his hand on Jason’s back and walked with them out to the elevator. This was exactly the reason she didn’t want Jason to come with her. He’d end up talking to the radiologist about tennis or golf, or get faint, just like what happened. She could have nailed the guy for more information, but after traversing cyberspace last night, she felt like she already knew everything there was to know about IBC. And it wasn’t good.

Chapter 3 After her mammogram, Harley finished charting on her last patient and was able to leave by two-thirty. Fran Jones, Jason’s wonderful mother, had been with Devon all day and would be looking for Harley to get home. She pulled into their subdivision, and the beauty of it brought tears to her eyes. They lived completely differently than the way she’d lived growing up. Her father, Glenn Blum was a wounded warrior, shot in the back in nineteen-seventytwo in Vietnam. After his injury, he came home in a wheelchair. They lived in trailers because it was easier for Maryanne to maintain, working nights so that the children were with their father instead of a sitter. Melissa and Kelly said they always felt loved and secure with their dad at home. Six years after his injury, Maryanne got pregnant with Harley, and the outward evidence of his virility energized Glenn, so that by the time she was born he was a changed man. After being on disability for six years, Glenn went back to work, becoming a spokesperson for wounded veterans in the workplace. The father Harley knew was a vital, sought after speaker, no longer trapped in a hospital bed. Sitting side by side, looking through old photo albums together when she was ten, the youngster Harley was confused by the pictures of her father in a hospital bed, looking forlorn. “Daddy, what happened to you?” she asked. “I went to war. Do you know what war is?” The child shook her head, and Glenn examined her face carefully. “It’s a story for another time,” he answered. “But I have something for you.” He took her hand, wheeling to the master bedroom. Taking a small hinged box off the dresser, he patted a space on the bed for her to sit. Harley watched, mesmerized as he slowly lifted the lid of the jewelry box. Inside, he shuffled neatly stacked items, finding a pair of dog tags encased in clear rubbery coating, suspended on a chain.

“What is it?” she asked. “They’re called dog tags. I wore them around my neck,” he answered. “If you look closely, you can see my name and birthdate. I want you to have them.” “Me?” she asked, confused. Her father was someone she admired, but from afar. Receiving a special item from him was overwhelming, almost scary. “I think you deserve it,” he said. “When you were born, it changed my life. I owe you so much.” Passionate, emotional, Glenn Blum didn’t know enough about his children to realize he might be scaring Harley. “Be careful to keep them in a safe place,” he said. “They can’t be replaced.” Harley took the tags from him, hid them in an empty tea canister for safekeeping. Everything went smoothly until five years ago when stopping for a pack of cigarettes at a convenience store in one of the beach towns, Glenn was shot to death during a robbery. Now, for the first time in years, she thought of her father’s dog tags and wanted them, no needed them around her neck. Just as Harley pulled the car into the garage, Fran opened the door with little Devon waiting, jumping up and down, yelling, “Mommy!” Harley grabbed her items and went to her littlest daughter, the news of the day forgotten momentarily. “Where are your sisters?” she asked, kissing Devon. “I dropped them off at the mall,” Fran said. “Tina had orchestra practice.” “Oh right, I forgot. What were they looking for at the mall?” “I gave them birthday money for school clothes,” she answered. “Well, that was very nice of you. By the way, I smell something good! Granny Fran, you didn’t have to.” Although she appreciated it when her mother-in-law cooked, she didn’t expect it. “I really am grateful for you.” “It’s nothing,” she said. “Sausage and peppers.” She went to get her purse. “I wish you would come to the shore this weekend.” Taking a deep breath, the events of the day came back to her. Maybe going to the beach would be the best thing for the family. “I’ll talk to Jason when he gets home.” The words were just out of her mouth when she her phone rang.

“Is my mother still there?” “She’s getting ready to leave,” Harley said. “Ask her to wait. I’m almost home.” Frowning, Harley wondered if he was going to make a big deal out of what was happening, and she didn’t want him to. “Maybe we should talk first,” she said softly. Harley could hear her mother-in-law’s phone beep. “I just got a text from Jason. He wants me to wait,” Fran said, shrugging her shoulders. “I’m getting hungry and this smells good. I’ll eat before I leave.” “Did you hear me?” she asked Jason. But he’d hung up and was already pulling into the driveway. She watched him get out of his car, still in his scrubs. He must have raced out as soon as he got relief, the add-on orthopedics cases forgotten. “What’s going on?” she asked, knowing. He kissed her and pushed into the house. “Mom, just stay a minute longer. I need to talk to Harley.” “No rush,” she said, curious, putting a little food in front of Devon and sitting down with a plate to join her. “Early dinner.” Jason had his hands on her shoulders, leading her through the hallway to their bedroom. “What is going on with you?” she asked again, annoyance growing. “I talked to Andy and he wants to do a simple punch biopsy tomorrow. Both he and the radiologist think we should act quickly.” “A weekend is going to make that much difference?” “It might, and we aren’t willing to take the risk. This way the specimen can be processed and you can see an oncologist next week if the diagnosis is confirmed.” “Okay, Jason, you have to let these people talk to me. I don’t like this middleman stuff. The only reason I didn’t freak out with the radiologist is that I was up all night researching and know all about IBC.” “I’m really sorry, but I just wanted to push through this. Bear with me, okay? We need my mother to watch the kids tomorrow for a few hours. Then we can go to Sea Isle if you want.” That scared Harley. Jason never wanted to go to the shore and he especially never initiated going. “Alright,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “I sure as heck didn’t think I was going to spend my weekend thinking about cancer.” She didn’t say the rest of her life.

“Why don’t you go sit with Devon and tell my mother to come in here so I can tell her.” “Jason, what did I just say? I’m capable of telling her. You go sit with Devon and tell her to come back here.” He was about to argue with her, the battle of the wills of Mr. and Mrs. Jones famous in the family. Sitting on the edge of her bed, looking around the bedroom, she smiled, liking their room. It was comfortable and uncluttered. “Knock knock,” Fran said. “You summoned me?” “I did. Sit down, Granny.” She patted the bed next to her. “My son said you need me to sit tomorrow morning for a few hours but that you would tell me why. I’m frightened.” Harley turned to her sweet mother-in-law and looked at her face, her flushed cheeks and bright eyes, and she wondered if she knew. “I guess I am, too,” Harley replied. “It appears that I might have breast cancer.” Fran gasped and put her hand to her mouth. “It could be an aggressive type. Rare. Only five percent of breast cancers are the kind I might have. Jason arranged for me to have a biopsy in the morning. It’s called a punch biopsy because he’ll take a tiny cylinder of tissue, including the skin. So that’s what’s happening.” Harley took a deep breath. It was the first time she’d used the words I might have breast cancer. There was still a chance it was something else. Fran took her in her arms and held her. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this, but I’ll help.” Harley wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and got up for a tissue. “You already have. I’ll find out from Jason what time we have to leave.” They walked back to the kitchen and Jason was pacing, talking on the phone, saying goodbye. “What time?” she asked softly. “Andy said to meet him at his office at eight. You don t have to get here too early, Mom because Bennie and Angie will be here and they’re old enough to watch over things until you arrive.” “I’m up at five anyway.” He kissed Fran goodbye and she came over to hug Harley again. “Bye bye, Devi,” she called. “Throw Granny a kiss.” “We’ll have to tell the girls as soon as I get the results,” Harley whispered after Fran

left. “I don’t like this waiting around for results though. If it was going to be done in the hospital the pathologist could look at it right away.” “I think he’s coming in just for you. Andy will run it over as soon as he has the tissue. Let’s try to relax tonight if we can.” “I love Friday nights,” Harley said out loud, taking Devon in her arms and squeezing her. “I’ll make hors d’ oeuvres, and we can watch a movie.” “What’s that? Are you going to make a horse?” Devon asked. Harley laughed. “No, honey, I’ll make special snacks, just for you. What would you like to eat?” “Ice cream!” “Ha! Well you can have that, too.” Suddenly exhausted, the night of research was catching up with her. “We’ll probably fall asleep within the first half hour,” Jason said disappearing into the back of the house, his voice trailing him. “I need to get out of these gross scrubs and take a shower.” Harley sat down at the table while Devon finished eating her early dinner, looking forward to running next door to play with their neighbor’s son. All of the things that usually drove her, the need to get the house cleaned or laundry done, the lists of items that haunted her at night needing fixing, or buying, or getting rid of, no longer meant a thing. If she could sit with her daughters at the table chatting for the rest of her life, she’d be satisfied. Even the house they worked so hard to acquire suddenly took on a new significance, and she saw the wisdom of her parents living in a trailer in order to keep their life uncomplicated. If she were dying, would her last days be spent worrying about making a house payment? “I’m home!” A familiar voice echoed from the mudroom as twelve-year old Tina Jones arrived, banging through the door with her violin case and backpack. The enigma of the family, although never exposed to the sitcoms of the nineteen-eighties, Tina looked like a cast member from Saved by the Bell. Very particular about her clothing since third grade, she begged Harley to take her to Salvation Army or Goodwill to shop. Fran, who loved to thrift shop, would take her when Harley was unable to. Hair pulled into a ponytail at the side of her head, Tina was a devotee of headbands and scrunches. Clip on rhinestone earrings and pop beads filled several jewelry boxes,

scouring garage sales for more, a beloved pastime. Older sisters Bernadette and Angela pampered her and humored her. They were just the opposite; uniform dressing in jeans and shirts, they were both no nonsense jocks. Tina liked creative writing and played the violin in the school orchestra, wouldn’t consider getting her hands dirty, and bargained with her guidance counselor to do filing for her instead of taking gym. “She is not going to fit in at the high school,” Bennie said. “I’m really worried about it.” “Maybe she’ll change her MO by then,” Angie said. “Ha! I doubt it,” Harley said. “Let Tina be Tina.” “Mom, that’s what I’m worried about. Her friends are just as bad, if not worse. One of the boys in her group wore neon green jeans to my soccer game. He was in green from head to toe. It was disturbing.” The girls laughed, but not in front of Tina. They would coddle her and enable her to stay different in spite of their worries. That afternoon when Tina arrived home from violin practice, Harley got up from the table to greet her peculiar daughter and choked back the tears when she saw her. She was beautiful. Holding her out at arm’s length, Harley flattered, “Tina Marie Jones, I love your outfit today!” “Do you? Well I wish I could find more of these striped tights. They’re very Wicked Witch of the West, don’t you think?” Wearing high top sneakers, she pointed her toe and moved her foot from left to right, holding her skirt up. “Very wicked witch. I like your denim jacket, too. Where on earth did you get that?” Over her rose patterned knit dress with full skirt, she was wearing a bright pink denim jacket. With her black striped tights and pink high-tops, definitely a throwback to a happier time. Harley noticed a pimple on Tina’s chin she’d attempted to cover up with makeup. Her daughter was growing up. If Harley died, she would leave four girls behind. Biting her tongue as hard as she was able, the tears and sobs that beckoned to come out evaporated. She would fight to stay strong for her girls.

Taking her violin, Harley asked Tina about orchestra practice and if she needed anything for school which was starting in a few weeks. “I don’t think I’m ready for school,” she said. “It doesn’t feel like summer. We’ve hardly been to the shore.” “Well, summer’s not over yet,” Harley replied. “Come in and have a snack. Granny made sausage and peppers but I’ll fix you something else.” On top of everything else which was different about her, Tina was also a zealous vegetarian. Meal times were easy because she’d eat everything they ate except animal products. “Can I have fried rice?” Harley nodded and set about making it for her, enjoying doing something special for her daughter. “Do you want to get changed? We’re going to have movie night tonight, with snacks, whatever you want.” “Popcorn! Where’s Devon?” “She’s playing next door,” Harley said, measuring water and rice into a saucepan. “I don’t like it when my sisters are away. Everyone should be here at home,” she called, walking back to her room, the words sending chills down Harley’s spine.

The night stretched out and neither Harley nor Jason fell asleep right away as predicted. Everyone piled onto the giant sofa in the family room, a parent at each end in a recliner with several recliners interspersed. After midnight, Harley heard Jason whispering in her ear. “Come on, sweetheart. Everyone’s out cold.” He helped her up and they made sure the girls were safe in their recliners, only Devon carried to bed. Harley paused to look at the scene, the TV still on but the sound turned down, three daughters sound asleep. “Thank you for my family,” she said looking up at Jason. “You, too,” he answered. “We are really lucky.” “I hope so,” Harley said. “I hope you’re right.” But she knew in her heart they weren’t lucky. Luck had nothing to do with it.

***

On the way to Andy Forman’s office the next morning, they held hands when possible,

but didn’t talk much. “I haven’t had enough coffee,” Harley finally said. “Me either. We’ll stop at Wawa on our way home.” Wawa was the local convenience store, which had the best coffee. Just the thought of it helped relax Harley because stopping for coffee was something they did together whenever they were out alone. The older girls preferred the drive-thru window at any fast food place. Tina however, couldn’t stand it. “Ew! Take me home first!” she’d cry. “I’ll have to wash my hair if you bring french fries in the car!” Harley started to laugh, the memory preferable to thinking of their destination. “The last time we tried to take everyone out to dinner Tina freaked out.” “How could I forget? Where did Tina come from anyway?” Jason asked, exasperated but laughing, his daughter’s quirky avant-garde personality a mystery. “My mother,” Harley answered. “Take away the nursing uniforms and the order in her life that she had to have because of my dad. It’s evident in her garden.” “It has to be, because she doesn’t take after us. None of them do, except for Bennie.” “Angie looks exactly like you!” Harley said, laughing. “Her hair, those beautiful raven curls and her blue eyes.” “Bennie takes after you.” The first daughter, Bernadette. “That’s only because of the hair,” Harley said. Both she and Bennie had thick, red hair. “I’m glad we’re letting Tina be herself,” Jason replied. “There’s no other way,” Harley said absently, looking out the window. They’d arrived. Jason pulled into the empty parking lot next to Andy Forman’s beat up ancient Ford; the only car there. “You okay?” Jason said softly. Harley shook her head. “I feel like throwing up.” “Take deep breaths.” Doing as he said, in the past, she’d have argued with him, but there was nothing to lose now. If he thought deep breathing was going to help her get through this nightmare, she’d deep breathe. They got out of the car and met in the front of it, reaching for each other’s hands.

Andy was waiting for them at the door to his office. “Jeez buddy, you could’ve dressed for my wife,” Jason said, shaking his head. Harley let out a guffaw, slapping her knee. Andy was wearing beat up sweatpants and a stained but clean t-shirt, complete with holes. “I’m trying to help Harley relax,” he said. “And it worked.” He held the door open and they walked through the entryway, the entire scene surreal. “I’ve never been in your office,” Harley said. “You’re not missing anything,” Jason droned. Andy smacked him on the arm. “Nice, real nice.” “Why do I feel like I’m with two adolescents?” Harley asked. But she had to admit, her fear had been somewhat alleviated, until he handed her a sterile betadine packet. “Let’s get this over with and then I’m taking you to the diner for breakfast,” Andy said, pointing to a door. “Go in that room and put a gown on with the opening to the front. Wash your breast off with this packet. Just the area you’re concerned about.” She knew what to do, but it was habit, him directing. The men talked about tennis rackets while she went into what turned out to be a bathroom. There was a shelf stacked with patient gowns. The light was awful, florescent and yellow, casting a yellow glow to her already pale red-head’s skin. Taking off her bra, she put her hands up to her breasts. It wasn’t that she cared that much about them, but they were on her body. They’d nourished her kids. They looked nice in a bathing suit, taking the focus off her belly. Now, they were at risk. She wondered if she could have done anything differently, if there had been something in her diet or her environment that led to this. Walking out of the bathroom holding the gown closed, he patted the end of the exam table. “We can do this with you sitting right here, okay?” She nodded. “Can I take a look?” Opening her gown, she looked over at Jason, but he was more interested in seeing her breast. “You should have looked at it before you had her put all that brown crap on it,” Jason said, growing nervousness clear in his voice. “I’ll wipe it off. It needs to be prepped again anyway,” Andy said. He reached for an alcohol wipe. “This’ll be cold.” It gave her goose flesh. Andy put exam gloves on and gently pushed her breast over. “Is this the area?”

Harley looked down and started to speak but Jason was right there, being her voice, one octave away from hysterical. “That’s it, that half-dollar pucker. Can you see it Andy?” “I see it,” he said gently. Harley thought Andy’s calm demeanor was more for Jason’s sake, knowing his friend was on the edge, than it might be for her. The evening before when he knew he was going to come into the office for Harley, Andy and his nurse set everything up for a procedure that turned out to be little more than a needle biopsy. All of the paperwork was filled out and the specimen container labeled and ready. Harley wouldn’t say it was the most fun morning she ever had, but it wasn’t the worst, either by far. After he did the biopsy, he had Harley hold a wad of gauze against the site. “When you get home, put some ice on it, twenty minutes on, twenty off.” He turned his back and put the tissue in a little vial of formalin. “Are you hungry?” he asked Jason. The last thing Harley wanted to do was sit at the diner for hours listening to those two talking. “I need to get home and relieve my mother-in-law,” she said, butting in. “You’re both welcome to go.” “We’re going to the shore today, remember? My father’s been bugging the heck out of me and now I think it’s the most important thing I can do.” “I can’t wait,” Harley said, smiling. “To the shore!” “Well, I’m truly insulted,” Andy said, joking. “The Jersey shore instead of breakfast with me.” “You’ll get over it. Come on, woman; get your clothes back on so we can head home.” Harley hopped off the table and went back into the bathroom, her mind blank. She could hear them plotting. Andy would run the specimen over to the lab. Now that it was in formalin they couldn’t do a frozen section, but the pathologist was coming in to do the complete histology and examination. They’d have an answer right away. It made her sick thinking that in a few hours she would know the truth, no more hoping and praying that it was benign once she had a diagnosis. If she had cancer, she’d know it for sure. They stopped talking when they heard the doorknob turn. “If you guys don’t start including me in your tete-a-tetes, I’m going to Barney.” The

men gasped; Barney was an archrival of Forman and the rest of the breast specialists at their hospital. “You wouldn’t dare,” Andy said, teasing. “Don’t worry, we get your point,” Jason said. “We’re only trying to spare you unnecessary worry.” “Well stop it, please. I could hear everything you were saying.” She got her purse and they followed her out of the office. “So I’ll call you both later.” Andy said. He reached for Harley and hugged her, kissing her cheek, hugging Jason, too.

Chapter 4 The Jersey shore was a place of childhood memories for the Jones family. Jason’s grandparents kept a trailer in the Piney Adventure campground since it had opened in the nineteen-thirties. Finally, working class Philadelphians who didn’t have the money for lavish vacation homes were able to enjoy the beauty of the area. Each generation upgraded their home; currently a five-bedroom summer cottage with a gigantic great room and a huge screened porch, one block from the beach. Fran and Joe had the master suite, and their two boys each had two bedrooms, one into which two sets of bunk beds were jammed. Fran made the sleeping arrangements comfortable by placing daybeds on the screened porch and two huge sectional recliner sofas in the great room. The older children preferred staying up all night anyway and sleeping on the recliners worked out perfectly. When the adults got up in the morning, they’d move back to the bedrooms. Harley’s family left the comfort of their peaceful home in the suburbs to spend what was left of the weekend at the Jersey shore. The girls talked and argued in the back of their big car during the two-hour trip, while Harley stared out the window. Jason left her alone, trying not to get her to feel better. They would know the results of her biopsy soon. How would their life change? The girls would still have school starting next month; she and Jason would go to work everyday. Adding one more activity to her schedule wouldn’t be that difficult, would it? She already relied on her mother-in-law far more than she should. Harley and sister-in-law, Bea grew up in Delaware together. Bea taught school, so she was home with her family during the summer. That was smart, Harley thought, wishing she’d listened to her mother and taken up school nursing. Fran should be able to spend time with Dave and his family, too; it wasn’t fair that Jason and Harley monopolized her. Harley’s sister, Melissa lived nearby, ready to have another baby. There wasn’t

anyone else but Kelly who lived in northeast Philadelphia and her mother at the beach in Delaware. “I’d like to go to Delaware and see my mother next weekend,” Harley said, not sure if she thought it or if she said it out loud at first. The girls agreed. “I love it down there,” Angie said. “Okay,” Jason replied. “Remind me and we’ll leave Friday night. We can enjoy the summer before it’s too late. I mean before school starts.” He was frowning. “I know what you mean,” Harley whispered. Before it was too late. “We don’t have to start watching every word that comes out of our mouths, do we?” “Yes,” he said. “Yes, we do.”

They arrived in Sea Isle before noon. Fran and Joe ran out to greet them, but Harley could see Fran was really coming for her, offering to take her purse and help bring their gear into the house. “You shouldn’t lift on that side,” she whispered. Harley frowned. “You’re right. He never said not to, but I know better.” Her right breast throbbed if her arm brushed across it since the local anesthesia wore off. “Did you hear anything yet?” “He was taking it to pathology himself. We should know soon.” Harley was so grateful Fran came to her for information and not Jason. She could see him hovering by the side door of the house, waiting, worried about her. It would be the dance for the next months; Jason trying to jockey a position around her so he could protect her. Taking a deep breath, she reached with her left arm and hugged Fran. Walking back in the house together, the women talked about quilts instead. Bea was bringing her sewing machine to teach them how to piece. Harley didn’t really want to learn, but her girls were enthusiastic and had encouraged her to try it, too. With the social agenda planned by Bea, and father-in-law, Joe taking care of the menu, there was little Harley had to do but relax, already feeling the effect of being at the shore. The drought that summer had taken a toll of the scrub pines and oak trees surrounding the lot, but to Harley, they represented peace. It was too hot to hang out on the screen porch, so she was going to stay outdoors.

“I’m claiming that chaise,” she yelled, pointing to a lounge chair under a copse of ancient oaks, which towered over the campground, mingling their tops and shading the entire area. Everyone nodded and laughed with her as she plunked down in the chair. Out of character, she realized that her girls might remember if negative news came that she’d been resting in a chaise lounge like an invalid. So she sprang up to join the activity. “Pop’s got lunch made,” Fran said. “I’m starving,” Harley said. They marched inside, Grandfather Joe coming forward to hug his granddaughters. The chatter was deafening as he got the latest news. He was a frequent observer of their soccer games and concerts and loved to hear the details of their young lives. Harley made a mental note that if she died; he’d be there for the girls. Shaking her head, she wanted to rid herself of the negativity. Jason appeared next to her. “What’s going on?” he asked. Sighing, Harley told him what she’d been thinking. “I don’t even have a diagnosis yet and I’m already thinking about what will happen to them.” Nodding his head toward their bedroom, he took her hand and led her back. Closing the door behind them, he took her in his arms. Their bodies melded together perfectly from all the years they’d been together. “I love you so much,” he whispered, his voice husky. About to say I don’t know what I’d do without you but caught it before the words spewed out. “Jason, I love you, too.” They kissed guiltily, not used to daytime affection. The girls were always there, interlopers to intimacy that only found a voice in the dark after everyone was in bed. “Just pray it’s negative,” Harley said. “I don’t know how I’ll cope. I’m so worried about leaving you.” “It’s probably nothing, Harley. Just know that if anything happens to you, we’ll be fine. Just like I know if anything happened to me, you’d be fine. No worries, okay? Let’s get through today.” They agreed to let each other feel what needed to be felt. “I guess we had better get out there,” Harley said.

Back out in the kitchen, they enjoyed homemade Italian hoagies and all the accompaniments; chips, potato and macaroni salads, Italian rum cake. “I’ll have to watch the calories all week,” Harley said, her girls agreeing they’d have to, too. “Eat up,” Joe said. “Life is too short to deny yourself.” Harley kept chewing, knowing Fran and Jason were watching her. She had to be on guard not to personalize every single thing said. “I agree,” she answered. “Bring on the ice cream!” Just as lunch was over and the commotion was settling down, Jason’s younger brother Dave and his wife, Bea arrived with their three children, Amanda and Sally who were within the ages of Jason and Harley’s older three, and a toddler boy, Michael. “Don’t name your kid Michael,” Jason had said. “Haven’t you heard about Michaels?” “I don’t believe any of that name crap,” Dave said. “It’s true,” Bea piped up. “All Michaels can be hellions.” “That’s true about any kid,” Dave said, ending the conversation. Well, a year later, he’d concede they were correct. “This kid is a monster,” Dave said sadly, as they watched the ten-month-old scale the furniture as if he was a mountaineer. “I have to get an earthquake strap for the TV before he tries to climb it next.” Michael looked at the huge television with a gleam in his eye. “Where will you get an earthquake strap in New Jersey?” “Amazon.” “Just don’t let him wreck my flat screen,” Joe said. The girls went to their rooms together while the adults caught up, Devon taking control of Michael while Bea and Harley childproofed the great room. “Who’s driving up here in that junker?” Joe asked, pulling the curtains aside to look out. Jason looked over his shoulder, and then at Harley, whose heart did a strange little twist, her gorge rising. Jason came to her and they held hands. Why would Andy drive two hours unless it was to deliver bad news?

“We’ll be back,” Jason said. “It’s an old friend.” Fran left for her own room, closing the door behind her. Falling on her knees, she cried out to God, begging him for mercy for Harley, pleading with him, offering her own body as a substitute if he would spare her son’s wife. In minutes, she felt better, feeling God’s presence in her life. She had to trust Him because she was helpless. Getting off the floor, she went to the bathroom to wash her face and reapply lipstick. The sound of a car starting and driving away signaled a negative report. If it were good news, the man would have surely stayed. Fran went to the window and watched. Jason and Harley were embracing under the oak. Fran watched him stroking Harley’s hair, whispering in her ear. Taking her chin in his hand, he tipped her face up to his and kissed her. From the safety of her bedroom, she could see Harley’s body shaking, Jason holding her. In seconds, Harley calmed down, stood on her tiptoes, kissed Jason, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand, and they walked hand in hand toward the house. Murmuring voices heard from the kitchen, Fran put her ear to the door, footsteps coming toward her room echoing. It was Harley, tears in her eyes. “Granny, can I talk to you? I need help. Do we ruin the weekend and tell them our news, or do I keep it to myself? Or do we tell and then leave?” “I’m so sorry, my dear,” Fran said, hugging her. “We’re a family. Go tell your older girls first and let them help you decide. I’ll keep Devon. Personally, I think you should stay. Do you want me to tell Pop?” Harley sighed. She hated being the center of attention in the best of times. “Yes, I guess so, the others, too. I’ll tell the girls first. Keep it simple. I have breast cancer. I go to the oncologist next week and will know more then. Andy said I’ll probably have chemo, then surgery, then radiation.” “You have to have all that?” Fran asked, frowning. Maybe it was worse than she thought. “I thought they did one or the other.” “The kind of cancer I have is fast growing. I’ll know more next week after I see the oncologist,” she repeated. “My head’s in a whirl.” “How extensive is the surgery?” Fran was petrified; she’d never met anyone who’d had a mastectomy.

Harley grabbed her arm. “Can you friggin believe it? I forgot to ask! It’s something else I’ll discover next week when I see the oncologist.” Fran patted her arm thinking of the scripture from Corinthians that people liked to twist; And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear, was what it really said. But well-meaning friends would say God will never give you more than you could handle. That, my friends, she thought, is a lie. When you are weak, He is strong. Unable to imagine going through what Harley was facing, she wouldn’t preach platitudes to try to make her feel better. When she was a young mother, she worried constantly about her boys, what would happen to them if she died. Now, her son faced it instead. What would he do if Harley died? Silently admonishing herself, she knew it was a knee jerk reaction; she was hearing bad news, leading to negative thinking. “It’s not important right now anyway,” Fran said, sorry she asked. “Let’s take one step at a time. What do you do next?” “Someone will call me Monday and tell me. So I’m free until then! I can pretend none of this is happening. I think I just changed my mind about telling everyone.” But it was too late. Bea came to her as soon as she left Fran’s room. “I don’t know what to say except I’ll be with you through this.” “I’m going to kill my husband,” Harley said. “But thank you. I knew I could count on you.” She walked through the house looking for Jason. “You have a big mouth.” Harley was angry. “I had just decided to let the weekend be free of drama. You need to confer with me from now on before you go behind me and talk.” “I’m sorry,” he said, not sorry at all. He was miserable and wanted everyone in his family to share his burden. Grabbing for her, Harley tried to pull away but he was stronger. “Now we either leave or tell the girls. I can’t believe you put me in this predicament.” “No one will say anything to them,” he said contritely.

“No, they won’t have to because they’re all walking around wiping tears off their faces like they had to put the family dog to sleep.” The comparison of her diagnosis with a pet’s euthanasia struck Harley as particularly funny and she had to turn her back smiling, not wanting Jason to think he was off the hook. “Look, I don’t want to drag you down, but you’ve got to pull yourself together. You’re not helping me by making this about you.” “I’m insulted,” he said, indignant. “I’m not making it about me.” “You are too, Jason. I’ve asked you over and over again not to speak for me yet you continue to do it. Just clam up. Go watch a baseball game or something, will you?” “We’re taking the boat out to fish,” he answered. “Well, thank God. Hurry and go,” Harley said, relieved. “I need to tell the girls. “Don’t you want to wait for me to be there?” “Ah, no I do not! Go fishing.”

The men were out of the door within an hour. Bea put Michael down for a nap; the time was right to tell her daughters the news. The five cousins were in a bedroom, reading; Angie a soccer magazine, Bennie, Eat, Pray, Love, Sally and Amanda, Judy Blume, and Tina, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. “They’re just like we were,” Bea whispered. They grabbed onto each other as they walked, the prospect of what Harley was faced with looming ahead. “Exactly like us,” Harley replied. “Knock knock,” Bea said through the crack in the door. “Can we interrupt you?” “I just said we should be outside on a beautiful day like this,” Bennie said. “Tomorrow,” Amanda replied. “The beach, first thing.” They all agreed the beach was the place to be when they were down the shore. Bea opened the door with Harley behind her. “Can we come in?” “Sure,” Angie said, moving over so her aunt could sit down. “What’s going on, you two?” “You look like this is serious,” Bennie said. Great, Harley thought.

“I’d like to talk to you while we’re alone. Daddy and Uncle Dave and Pop went fishing and Mikey is taking a nap.” “Thank God,” Sally said and the other laughed. “We already know about menstruation,” Bennie said. “Well yes, it’s true, you do know about that.” “Let her talk,” Angie said. Harley took a deep breath. “I hardly know where to start so I’ll just say it out. I have breast cancer.” Her girls cried out, reaching for her, clambering over their cousins to get to their mother. “Mom, I’m so sorry,” Tina said. “When did you find out? I can’t believe we didn’t know you were going through something so scary,” Angie said. “I just found out when Uncle Andy came to tell us a little while ago. I discovered a problem yesterday and had a test and then this morning we went to the office and I had a biopsy. I’m just finding everything out now. I wanted you to know because I hated keeping it from you, but I don’t want you to worry. I’ll be fine.” The sisters and cousins chattered, asking questions she didn’t have answers for yet, so she made up answers. Bennie hadn’t said a word, but she held on to Harley for dear life. “If you don’t have any more questions for now, let’s go outside. Bennie, you’re right, it is a beautiful day. We need to enjoy it because…” Bennie interrupted her. “Don’t say it, Mom! I can’t bear it!” Harley shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. “Bennie, say what?” “That we need to enjoy it because we’re all going to die someday.” She latched onto Harley with her arms around her waist as in a vise grip, hysterical crying, yelling, “Don’t die, I can’t stand it, please don’t die!” “Bennie!” Harley shouted. “I was going to say we need to enjoy it because school is going to be here before you know it.” They could hear Bennie snorting and moaning muffled by Harley’s body. She had latched on to her mother’s right side and Harley was trying to guard her breast. “Honey, my right boob had a ten inch needle stuck into it this morning and you’re pressing your wild red hair into it.” Quickly pulling back, face a mess, Bennie looked in horror at her

mother’s breast. “Oh I am so sorry, Mom! Please forgive me.” “Your boob?” Bea stated, trying to stifle a laugh. The moment of misery passed because the alternate was too terrifying to contemplate.

The men eventually returned from fishing. They weren’t having fish for dinner, either. Pizza from the local pizza parlor and more rum cake left from lunch kept the family occupied around the huge dinning table. Fortunately, Harley’s breasts weren’t a topic of conversation, but her girls did stick closely to her, Tina always at her side, Bea’s girls worried that something horrible might happen to their mother, too. By eight, Harley was ready for bed, exhausted. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed.” She didn’t say she was dead tired, or ready to drop dead, or felt like death warmed-over, all the common phrases they’d used over the years to express the exhaustion of living. The filtering of her words and policing of her husband’s was taking a toll and she hadn’t even started treatment yet. After saying goodnight, she no longer cared what Jason said or if they all had a powwow concerning her predicament. It wasn’t until she’d brushed her teeth, snuggled under the sheets, and was starting to doze off that she remembered she hadn’t called her sisters or mother. “Oh hell,” she whined, the first thing she’d be faced with on a Sunday morning was causing more pain. “What’s wrong?” A disembodied voice whispered. She got up on her elbows to find Jason lying next to her in bed. “When did you get here?” “A few minutes ago. You were sawing logs.” “I forgot to call my mother and the others today.” “Give them more time,” he said. “You just found out yourself. Tomorrow you’ll be in better shape to talk to them. How’s your biopsy site?” “Sore. So what’s everyone saying out there?” she asked, nodding to the front of the house. “They were keeping it light. The girls joined us playing cards so no one could really say much. I missed you so here I am, wide awake.” He snuggled next to her and she

could feel something intrusive. “Oh no, you are kidding, correct?” She fell back on the bed, but she was giggling. “No, I’m not kidding. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Come here, woman.”

Sunday was another beautiful, hot August day. Before lunch, Harley excused herself taking her phone to walk on the beach and make those calls, to her mother first. “It’s the last thing I ever thought would happen to you!” Maryanne cried. “You have always been the most health conscious of us all.” “Well, evidently that doesn’t make much difference,” Harley said. “I’ve been reading about it and there are a bunch of factors besides lifestyle. I might have been exposed to something at the hospital; it might be congenital. They just don’t know.” They talked about the events that led up to the diagnosis, how Andy had driven two hours just to tell her in person. “Boy, that is a rare find in a doctor,” Maryanne said, blowing her nose. Harley sighed. “I don’t know if it’s going to be more helpful, or hurt more. There might be something to be said about an impersonal encounter with a physician. Plus, he’s Jason friend. I feel like he might be more worried about Jason right now.” “Can I do anything for you?” “Not yet, Mom, but thank you. I’ll call you after I talk to the oncologist. I’m going to call Melissa and Kelly now and tell them together, so if they call you first, mums the word!” They professed their love for each other and said goodbye. Telling the sisters was worse because Harley could be herself with them and once she began to cry, all the uncertainties she had about not surviving cancer found their voice. As she feared, once she started to dwell on that, she couldn’t seem to pull herself out of it. Finally, her sister Melissa got her to calm down, telling her that she didn’t really have any facts yet, everything she’d read online, even from respected sources had a contradictory response somewhere else. “We’ll deal with this,” Kelly said. “You aren’t going to be alone.” “I’m worried about Jason and the girls,” Harley cried. “I don’t care about myself, I swear I don’t. Just the thought of leaving them to fend for themselves is terrifying me.” “Jason can be trusted,” Kelly reminded her.

“She’s right, Harl. Concentrate on your healing now, instead of the unknown,” Melissa encouraged. “It’s understandable that you’re frightened. Just take one day at a time. Looking into the future is too unsettling. You don’t know yet what is going to happen. The world could end tomorrow. Or they could find a cure for breast cancer. Every day you live brings you closer to that reality.” The sisters were able to do for her what she’d been unable to do for herself. She took a deep breath after they told her they loved her and each other and hung up from the call. Now that she’d told all the important people in her life the news, she could focus on the here and now. Aware of her surroundings, a deep sense of peace overcame Harley. She loved being at the shore. This was not the beach of multi-million dollar mansions. Remnants of ancient pilings peeked from the surface during low tide. Ghosts of fishermen long past fished off piers lost during hurricanes of old. Their cove was lined with scrubby trees and wild roses. A tide pool shimmered with small fishes, their wiggling bodies reflecting the sun. They'd live trapped in the landlocked space until the next high tide. A reflection in the sand caught her eye and she squatted down to retrieve it. Wiping off grit with her thumbs, it was a worn medal of Saint Anne, patron saint of mothers. Next to Jason, her four daughters meant more to her than anything, an honor to be their mother, giving her life meaning and purpose, yet would cause the most anguish. Holding the medal in the palm of her hand, she looked up at the ocean. Calm that day, it wasn’t uncommon for the slightest weather occurrence to send gigantic waves crashing to shore, tearing at the delicate sand dunes, chipping away at the houses along the water; a metaphor for her life. That stunning environment, gave her a renewed strength. Life hung in a delicate balance, but she never understood until that moment how much control she had of one aspect. She might not be in a position to regulate what happens next, but her mental response to it was huge. Already sensing her husband was going to be a problem if she let him, she put herself in his shoes. What if Jason was the one with cancer? Thank God, he wasn’t, but if it were Jason instead of her, she couldn’t imagine how hysterical she’d be, the nurse in her orchestrating his every move, watching his diet and bowel movements like she would an infant’s. He wouldn’t do that to her, but what he could control – her

interaction with the physicians he knew, the information given to friends and family – those powers he’d utilize with a vengeance. Taking a deep breath, she smiled; it was something Jason would tell her to do. Making the decision then and there, she wasn’t going to try to micromanage the information that was coming and going. If Jason needed to be in charge of her medical care, she’d let him. Resisting his help was pride, something she’d picked up along the way with women’s rights and independence, things she knew were important. There was a time to lean on a husband and she thought she might have just discovered when it was. Thinking of Maryanne, she continued to support the family after her husband returned home from the war, injured. While she went out everyday and worked, he was home in a wheelchair, her strength subtly permeating everything. The children never felt the dysfunction of a household in which an injured war veteran lived, largely because their mother respected him, and he continued to make his own decisions. She supported him in all ways, and he was still the father and husband. A common phrase heard was check with your father. He’d be lying in his hospital bed in the middle of the living room and Melissa asked if she could go to the beach with a friend’s family. “Ask Dad,” Maryanne would say. Right before he died, she still acquiesced to him, and insisted the girls did, too, even though they were grown. Harley asked herself; what was a marriage? Where did the boundaries of each person begin and end? She and Jason had definite roles in their marriage, but they were shifting. She wondered if underestimating the power her diagnosis had over her was the cause of her craziness. Approaching the campground, the view made her want to drop to her knees and give thanks. The cottage was a straight shot to the beach, the smell of salt water and the sounds of waves reached their bedroom window. Blue water was visible between the trees from her favorite lounging spot. The girls, her beautiful daughters, were sitting around a picnic table with fabric and needles and thread, learning to piece quilts from Bea. Bea, her best friend since childhood, was also a member of her family, dependable and faithful. The smells of something delicious cooking, probably a hunk of meat slow roasting on the grill reached her nose. It was Sunday, after all, and Sunday

was a day for roast, even in August. “What do I smell?” she called, sticking the medal in her pocket. Bennie looked up, threw her sewing on the table, and leaped over the bench. “Mom, where were you?” Running up to Harley, she hugged her gently, being extra careful on the right side. “I had to tell Granny Maryanne about this,” pointing to her breast. “And then the aunts.” “How’d they take it?” Harley felt she had ally in her daughter. Bennie was growing up too fast. “About like you’d expect. The aunts are going to be okay.” “Are we going to Delaware next weekend?” Harley nodded. “I hope so. I miss my mom,” she said, smiling at her daughter. “I am so sorry you girls have to go through this with me. I couldn’t see any other way around it. In the old days, they didn’t tell the kids, so it was a big secret and the dysfunction surrounding it must have been horrible, the comings and goings from the hospital, whispering. I don’t want that for my girls.” “We’d know if there was a problem,” she replied, haughty but smiling. “Believe it or not, Angie said ‘They’re up to something,’ when you guys left in the morning yesterday. You could have told us.” “I think we did the right thing by waiting. We’d have had to tell you Friday night, which would mean no one would get any sleep. I was already up all night the night before, researching on the computer. I needed my sleep. It was better this way. If we’d found out sooner, we’d have told you.” “I love you, Mom. I’m so upset,” Bennie said, leaning in carefully for another hug. “I know,” Harley said, hugging her back. “Let’s just take it one day at a time. You girls should be at the beach.” “Daddy’s already talking about leaving,” she said, resigned. “He wants to miss traffic.” “I’ll ask Granny Fran and Pop if you can stay and come home with them.” “No, I want to be with you,” Bennie said, ending the discussion. They walked to the picnic table together, as Jason came out with their bags.

“I’m loading up,” he said, putting the bags in the back of the car. “I couldn’t find you.” “I told you I was going to call my mother,” Harley said, noting he was in a snit, the less said, the better. Everyone was under stress. Going back inside to gather her belongings, the girls followed her, finished with their sewing class. “I guess we’re headed home,” Angie whispered. “It’s probably for the best.” “Thank you for being so grown-up about all of this,” Harley said with her arm around her. “I can’t imagine going through what we are about to go through with kids who were acting out.” “It might still happen,” Angie said. “I was feeling the urge to have a drink last night after everyone went to bed.” “Me, too,” Harley said. “But I didn’t want the headache when I got up today.” Angie got her bag, taking it to the car. Harley packed hers and went to relieve Fran of Devon duties. “She’s got a million questions today, don’t you Devi.” She nodded her head. “Am I going to school next month?” Harley looked at her little human being, and giggled. “I guess if you want to, you can. Why?” “Everyone’s going to school and I want to go, too.” “Okay, we’ll see what we can do.” “If Devi goes to school, what will I do all day?” Fran said, winking at Harley. “All my big girls will be in school.” Harley suddenly saw the wisdom of sending Devon off to preschool, just in case. It was a scary proposition to think there was a chance Jason would have to find a school and do the introduction on his own. But it was a possibility. As much as she didn’t want to live in the future, Harley realized at that moment that she had a lot of work to do in the coming days to make sure her girls’ needs were taken care of if anything should happen to her.

Chapter 5 The oncologist’s office called Harley early Monday morning. “This is Fern at Liberty Oncology. Doctor Forman called and asked that we see you right away. Dr. Michaels would like you to have a scan first. Can you come in at ten this morning?” Just in case they could see her on Monday, she’d prepared by taking a sick day from the hundreds of hours she’d accumulated. If anything qualified as a sick day, this was it. Then as luck would have it, Fran had come down with a stomach virus in the night, probably from nerves. Angie was more than able to babysit for Devon, and she’d offered to that morning, but Harley knew she’d be too nervous leaving her home, so Devon came along. Now, alone in the store after Melissa took Devon home with her, Harley was fighting self-pity and anger. Guilt was trying to creep in when the thought why me fluttered through her brain. She was a worker, independent and self-reliant. Now this. Taking that proverbial deep breath, she knew she was reacting and wanted to stop, wanted to have people look at her and say, “How does she do it? Harley’s amazing, battling breast cancer with all those kids and never feels sorry for herself.” Catching a glimpse of her reflection in the car window while she loaded the groceries, her face looked pinched and miserable. Maybe the prune-faced women she criticized were miserable because they dealt with seemingly insurmountable odds. Trying to smile at herself and failing, she just wanted to get home and cry.

***

By Friday, all the testing completed, she was having chemotherapy for the first time. Jason begged to tag along, but she insisted he go to work. “I’ll need you with me later,”

she said, blocking out what later could mean. “Save your sick days.” Feeling ungrateful but not able to help it, she didn’t want him hovering over her or watching every move the nurses made, rationalizing it was more a kindness for him not to let him go along. The next weeks were spent doing the usual lets get ready for school drill, with Harley needs to prepare for the worst lingering in the back of her mind. The day after her first chemotherapy treatment, she felt tired and mildly nauseous. Not up to fighting the back to school shopping crowds, it was a good time to clean out drawers and closet, throw away several journals she started and wouldn’t want anyone to read, separating her belongings so it would be easier for Jason to dispose of her stuff if she died. Realizing it might be premature, she separated the items she valued; favorite books, a gift of rune stones from Bea, mementos from childhood and other treasures into four large see through plastic boxes. On the lids in Sharpie pen, she wrote Things for the Bennie, Things for Angie and so on. If her situation became dire, there’d be no fighting over her junk. Slowly feeling better, she raced getting everything ready for the first day of school, spending a full paycheck on additional socks, underwear, bras and pajamas just in case, stocking the girls’ bathroom with extra sanitary products and deodorant, Bennie’s special shampoo, all the things they looked to her to provide. Waiting until the week of surgery, she told her co-worker friends about the upcoming mastectomy so when they saw her on the OR schedule Friday morning they weren’t shocked or angry she’d hid it from them. The usual outpouring of concern and kindness made her feel worse. It was almost better if they’d ignored her. She couldn’t help noticing the outpouring of concern her husband was getting from female employees. It was during those hectic days before the surgery that Harley questioned her chances of survival. Instead of dwelling on what she thought might be inevitable, she set her sights on planning for the family’s wellbeing if she died. Doing so made her feel proactive, giving her a sense of relief. The only thing she worried about was leaving Jason and the girls. After reading more about her type of cancer, she’d do what she could to try to beat it,

but she wouldn’t try experimental drugs or procedures that never seemed to work. Mastectomy, chemo, radiation; that was it, she wouldn’t waste her precious time. Hopefully, it would work and she’d be cured. Then the next morning, having a change of mind during a sleepless night, she’d wake up determined to try whatever they offered her, no matter the consequences. If she could buy extra time with her family, it would be worth it. The cycle of hope/despair was exhausting. The part of the process, which was most difficult was how it was affecting her relationship with Jason. During the few hours each day they were together, if he wasn’t crying, he was in a snit. It was clear the man was on the brink of having a breakdown of some kind but didn’t have the time to do so, manifesting itself in a distance between them that hadn’t been there before. The coup de grace took place on the Thursday morning before surgery. They got up for work as usual, Harley showered first while Jason took his time getting out of bed. He stood at the sink shaving when she came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around her head. “Good morning,” she said moving to the closet. He grunted an answer, finished shaving and got into the shower. It would have been an ordinary day except for what Harley left behind. Jason didn’t get it at first, thinking what he was seeing was an optical illusion of soap residue on beige tile, he wiped his eyes and got closer to look, running his hands over the mirage. It was Harley’s red hair, a whole lock of it. Looking at the drain, he was standing in an inch of water. He bent down and pulled out a wad of her hair that had clogged the drain. “Oh, Harley,” he whispered. Finishing his shower, he cleaned up the handful of hair and wrapped it in toilet paper before throwing it in the trash can so she wouldn’t see it. She must know, but wasn’t saying anything to him about it. Was she trying to protect him? Or didn’t she realize it yet? It was only three weeks since she started chemotherapy. Was that a long enough time for her hair to start falling out? Wrapping himself in a towel, he went back out to the bedroom where Harley was making the bed. Her hair was still up in a towel. He watched her run her hands over her pillowcase, gathering hair. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

Taking a deep breath, she sighed. “No, no it really isn’t. My hair’s falling out. I know it’s not a big deal,” she said. “But for some reason I was hoping it wouldn’t happen until after the surgery so I wouldn’t have to recover from losing a breast and my hair at the same time.” Plunking down at the edge of the bed in despair, her face in her hands, she began to cry. Harley was tough and this was out of character for her. Taken aback, Jason didn’t know what to say that wasn’t condescending. He sat down and hugged her. “I’m sorry about your hair,” he said. “It’ll grow back. I know you don’t want to hear that. Maybe I need to hear it. My wife won’t be a bald eagle forever.” Harley laughed and pushed him away. “My breast won’t grow back. And cancer is spreading through my body. I don’t want to die and leave you and my four girls alone. Gosh, I never thought I would say this, but I’ll do just about anything not to die.” Jason bit his tongue, on the verge of saying You’re not going to die. Why are you so fatalistic? This is just a bump in the road for us. You’re making more out of it than you should be. He realized that was what he wanted to hear. So he hugged her again and kissed her cheek. “Me too,” Jason said, the reality he might lose her forever crushing him. “I’d do just about anything.”

On the Friday of surgery, they repeated the routine of a workday, only they prepared not to come home in the afternoon. “We’d better both take something to read,” Harley said, packing a small bag although she wasn’t sure if she’d have to stay overnight. “In case I get bumped for an emergency.” “They wouldn’t dare,” Jason said, his anxiety level at the exploding point. “Well, you had better take something to read then, so you won’t get bored.” He grabbed the book off his nightstand, something he started reading at the shore and was interested enough to finish. It was fluff, unrealistic soap opera reading. The opposite of their reality. Even though the chance she’d be discharged that evening was possible, Harley took one last lap around her house, making sure everything was in place, just in case she

stayed overnight. She’d taken extra care cleaning up and decluttering, doing the laundry, wiping out the refrigerator, cleaning toilets after everyone was in bed the night before. Order was important to her mental well-being. Tiptoeing into the girls’ rooms, she kissed each one goodbye with promises that she’d talk to them later in the afternoon. Fran arrived five minutes before they had to leave. “Good luck today, my dear,” she said, hugging Harley. “I’ll be praying for you.” Jason picked up her bag and with his other hand on her back, steered her out of the house. “Mom, I’ll call you as soon as she’s out of surgery,” he said over his shoulder. They got into the car, the trip to the hospital made in silence like any other workday morning together. “I’ll drop you off,” he said, but she wasn’t having it. “No, let me go to the parking garage with you,” she said. “It’ll do me good to get some exercise in before they put me to sleep.” They made one false step, forgetting why they were there and going to the employee entrance instead of the patient entrance, which was closer to admissions. It led to a stroll through foreign areas of the hospital that the isolation of being in the OR prevented them from seeing. “This place needs some updating,” Jason said, looking at the front lobby. “It’s been a while since I’ve walked through.” Harley didn’t say anything in reply, her goal to keep blinders on until she was back home with her children. “Less is more,” she said. “I could care less about the lobby.” He nodded in agreement. The admissions clerk led her through the admissions process; impersonal questions and little eye contact further diminishing Harley’s sense of wellbeing. She wondered what the woman would do if she broke down crying, or changed her mind about having the surgery and fled the hospital. Led to the large waiting room, upon entering a large typewritten notice warned her of what her patient rights included. Growing irrationality pushing her to the brink of tears, Harley pinched her arm and kept her expression as neutral as possible. Shouldn’t there be a priest waiting, armed with a list of platitudes about how unfair it was she’d been

chosen by the universe to go through this? The lack of spiritual icons of compassion in the room left her feeling empty and hopeless. “I wish we would have gone to Saint Joseph’s,” she whispered to Jason. He patted her hand and looked around the sterile, crowded room, nodding. “This definitely sucks,” he replied, reaching for a newspaper. “Look at this. Wednesday’s paper. I’m glad I brought my book.” A colleague, a woman in pink scrubs coming into the open waiting room with a chart in her hand, called out Harley. They stood, following her to the pre op area. Jason could stay until they took her in the OR. She instructed Harley to strip and put on a bird’s egg blue patient gown. “Your fan club is waiting, so hurry up and change,” she said, smiling. Spared those last minute worries of her dying on the OR table or what the final pathology report would be, irreverent humor and love of other nurses they’d worked with for most of their adult lives made the experience easier. Soon, her team came to take her back to the OR. They had her get on a stretcher and she looked so vulnerable, her thinning hair covered by a gigantic bouffant cover. “Jay, go get coffee down in the cafeteria,” Andy said. “I’ll call you as soon as she’s done.” There was so much Jason wanted to say to his wife at the last minute, but it was too late, it was time for her to go. He bent over the side rails, took her face in his hands and kissed her, their co-workers turning their heads for a moment to give them privacy. “I love you so much,” he whispered. “You’ll be fine.” She nodded, wiping away an errant tear. “Love you, Jay,” she whispered, searching for his hand to squeeze. Standing back, he waved to her as her stretcher disappeared into the hallway leading to the room where she would lose her breast. Jason left the cubicle with his book and did as Andy suggested, going to the cafeteria to get coffee. It was seven in the morning; he’d be at the hospital on a normal day, but preparing his room for a patient. He should be happy not to have to work, to be able to drink coffee leisurely. Hoping she’d be stable enough to go home that night, he wanted her in his bed, or on the couch in her recliner. They’d watch movies all weekend and eat pizza every night with their girls.

Standing in line with other visitors, Jason needed coffee. Looking out the large, dirty window with its uninspiring urban view, he should have waited upstairs in the employee lounge, and then vetoed that idea remembering the continuous questions and comments he’d probably get. It was wise to stay away. Harley was a patient today and he was her family. Sitting down at a table in the corner of the dingy dining area, Harley’s breasts made an appearance in his thoughts. They were perfect for her body, on the small side but useful, having nursed four babies. When Devon was three months old, Harley went back to work but she continued to nurse, pumping during lunch, the proceeds stored in the lounge freezer. Jokes about Harley’s breast milk continued to circulate four years later. Watch out what you put in your coffee was a favorite. Arriving home each afternoon, the first thing she’d do was to wash her hands and put baby Devon to her breast where’d she stay for the next hour. Turning his head to the wall, the tears came unbidden. Last night as she got undressed for bed, Jason went to her before she could put her PJs on. Aware of what he was there for, she waited for him, allowing him to hold her breasts. Beyond words, anything he would have said to her would have upset her further, so he embraced her, touching her there, and they cried together. Alone in the hospital cafeteria, he tried not to imagine where Andy was in the procedure but it was impossible not to. Harley would already be asleep, intubated and Ken Martin, her anesthetist, would keep her safe. Blue sterile drapes covered her body with her right breast and underarm exposed. Shaking his head before the imaginary scalpel blade touched Harley’s skin; Jason knew a mastectomy was the best thing for her. Weeks ago, she’d had the punch biopsy in Andy’s office on a Saturday morning and the wound still had not healed. She’d taken to padding her bra with gauze to keep the seepage off their sheets, the worry that the cancer was growing exponentially frightening for them both. Last night, when he was holding her breast, she said it. “It’s for the best. I can’t live with having an open wound on my chest. The inconvenience is already bugging the crap out of me.” “I know,” Jason answered. “I’m sorry you’re going through this. I wish I could take it

for you.” He kissed her neck, whispering to her, telling her how much he loved her. In the dank cafeteria, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, Jason thought of the next time they’d make love. He was a nurse; he knew what mastectomy wounds looked like. Would he have to avoid touching her there? They hadn’t discussed breast reconstruction but he thought if it was up to him, he’d vote in favor of it. Harley would balk at the idea. Reconstruction meant more surgery, tissue expanders, inconvenience. It might not even be an option for her. She wanted to live her life without those encumbrances, enjoying her children and their life. He ignored the words for as long as she had left.

While Jason walked to the cafeteria, Harley took a ride to OR #11. “It looks different from this perspective,” she said, taking it in from the stretcher. Her friend, Joan Coleridge was in the room with her and pushed the stretcher along side the OR table. “Okay, sweetie, hop over,” she instructed. Ken waited on the other side of the table. The drugs they had given her to help her relax hit and she felt like she was moving in slow motion. “Oh boy,” she drawled. “That Versed you gave me just kicked in.” “Enjoy it!” Ken said, chuckling. Harley lay on the table and closed her eyes, the sensation she was floating enjoyable. Everyone in the room was doing something to her, hooking her up to the EKG, putting compression stockings on her legs, strapping her to the table so she didn’t fall off. “You’re going to get sleepy in a few seconds,” Ken said softly. She felt the medication burn her veins.

“Harley, you’re in Recovery, surgery is finished. It’s time to wake up.” She could hear her Recovery Room co-worker Margaret’s voice softly calling for her to open her eyes, take a deep breath, asking if she had any pain. Using every bit of strength, Harley opened her eyes. “There you go,” Margaret said, smiling. “You’re in recovery! I get to take care of you.” “What time is it?” Harley said, closing her eyes again, her throat on fire from the

endotracheal tube. “Just past eleven,” Margaret answered. “Jason is right outside. I asked him to wait until I had you situated before he started to hover.” Harley laughed, a hoarse, weak laugh. “Thank you. Jason will hover,” she replied. “Do you feel anything?” “Some burning,” Harley said. Burning like fire from the bottom of her neck around her side. “I’ll give you something to take the edge off,” Margaret said, winking. The next time Harley opened her eyes Jason was sitting next to her, watching the traffic as patients came in from surgery or were discharged to their rooms. “Jay, what time is it?” Harley asked, groggy. “Hey, beautiful,” he said standing up. Taking her hand, he tried not to look at her chest, grateful the blankets piled on her obscured any dissimilarity. He looked up at the wall clock. “It’s almost one thirty. You ready to go to your room?” “I have to pee,” she said. “But I can wait till I get upstairs.” “Okay, I’ll let Margaret know you’re ready to go.” The pain in her chest was a dull burning that crept up to her chin and down her shoulder, snaking under her right arm. Harley knew Andy was going to do a lymph node dissection to determine how advanced the cancer was, but he didn’t have to tell her. In the weeks before she felt the chain of enlarged nodes in her armpit. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, scared to death but because of her pride, didn’t want anyone to tell her it was natural or that she shouldn’t feel that way. “Harley,” Andy said, his hand on her left shoulder. “You did great. We’re waiting for the pathology report on the nodes.” She nodded her head. What was there to say? “Waz up?” he said to Jason, returning with Margaret. They gave each other a man hug, Jason wiping his nose on his sleeve like a little boy. “Thanks, man,” Jason said. Harley thought she’d start screaming if Jason and Andy commiserated in front of her, but understanding her irrational thought might be drug induced, she bit her tongue. “Can I go to my room?”

“Sure you can,” Margaret said. “We’ll evaluate how you’re feeling at five, and if you’re up to it, you can go home,” Andy said. “I’m definitely going home,” Harley said firmly. Margaret disconnected the EKG wires attached to Harley’s body and took the oxygen cannula off her face as the men continued to chat. While Margaret pushed her bed from the cubicle, Harley reached up for Andy’s arm. “Andy, you’re not to tell him anything before you’ve told me, got it?” Andy laughed, shocked. “Absolutely,” he said. “I promise.” She closed her eyes for the ride through the corridors to the elevator, taking deep breaths to abolish the anger and the sadness that took turns making her crazy. Why couldn’t Jason read her mind? She had certain expectations that seemed too selfish to put into words. It was just overwhelming. I have cancer, she thought. Isn’t that enough? Pay attention to me. Leave me alone. By the time she got to her room, she wanted Jason to go home and check on the kids, his well-meaning hovering taking its toll on her sanity. His other speed was talking about her to the nurses and doctors like she wasn’t there, asking questions, prying. “Stay home until they discharge me,” she said, giving instructions. “I’ll call you as soon as I hear.” “I’m not leaving you alone all afternoon,” Jason said. “Do you want to get up?” “Yes,” she answered, trying with all her might to stifle the annoyance she felt with him. He put the side rail down on her bed and put his hand out to take hers. Right arm stiff at the shoulder, she kept it bent at the elbow, across her waist. “How do you feel?” he asked. “Not bad,” she answered. “I am definitely going home tonight.” “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Jason said. She could run a fever or her surgical site could bleed, a slew of reasons she should stay. Maybe she should stay in the hospital overnight, but it didn’t make any difference what he thought. After all the years they’d been together, he recognized the state Harley was in, which he referred to as brittle. She got that way after each baby was born and

when he had hernia surgery. It was a way to cope with a situation in which she had no control. He knew she was angry that he was schmoozing with Andy; he caught himself doing it but it was too late. “Well, just make sure you don’t tell anyone in charge you think I should stay, because if you do, I’ll be really pissed off.” “No worries, darling. I’ll just wait to hear what the verdict is.” “Jason, it’s three. Go home and see the girls, have dinner with them. Please.” He looked at her, wanting to tell her to stop acting like a spoiled brat, but he really couldn’t. “You can’t tell me what to do,” he said softly. “You’re not the boss of me.” It had its effect and Harley laughed a little. “Ow. Stop making me laugh,” she said. “Don’t talk then if you’re staying. Read your book, or watch TV or take a nap. And don’t talk to my nurses, either.” “I won’t,” he said, picking up the remote. “Do I get to watch my programs?” “When are you ever home to watch TV in the afternoon? Be quiet Jason,” she said. At five, as her dinner was served and the smell of institutional roast beef permeated the room, Andy Forman came in, looking exhausted, unsmiling. “Fuck,” Jason said, simply, reaching for the remote. He turned the TV off in preparation to hear more bad news. “You can go home now, Harley,” he said, patting her foot. He walked around the bed and stood at her right side. “Can I take a look at your dressing?” Jason hadn’t seen it, got up and peered over Andy’s shoulder as he untied Harley’s gown, pulling it down. The dressing wasn’t as bulky as Jason expected it to be, a layer of two-inch wide gauze with a cotton pad over it, just a little bit of paper tape holding it in place. It was dry and intact. The area was flat, her breast gone. Jason dug his fingernails into his palm yet the tears came, he turned his back and reached for a tissue. Andy was talking to Harley about what to expect when she got home. “No lifting, strenuous exercise, standing for long periods of time, showering. You can sit in a bathtub but don’t get your incision wet. I’ll drop by Sunday afternoon to change your dressing. “Take pain medication for the next twenty-four hours whether you need it or not. Rest

this weekend. Do you have any questions?” She shook her head. “My mind’s a blank,” she said. “I know you have other news.” “The pathology report is back,” he said. “I figured if there’s a lesion on my liver, I’d have positive nodes.” He nodded. “We were hoping there would be signs that the chemotherapy was working, but by the condition of your lymph nodes, it appears that it isn’t. All it means is that the drug they were using needs to be changed. Next week you’ll see Jerry Michaels again and he’ll start you on a new, high-dose chemotherapy.” “I’m already losing my hair so that’s one thing I won’t have to worry about,” she said. “Tomorrow, it’s getting shaved off, so say goodbye.” Andy took her left hand and squeezed it. “Get out of here,” he said. “Rest and watch TV. Nap. I’ll see you Sunday.” He leaned over the side rails and kissed her cheek and turned to Jason to hug just as the nurse came in the room with discharge papers.

Being a passenger in the car worried Harley, afraid of the seat belt stretching over her incision, but worried not wearing it. “I’ll feel like a ballistic if I’m just sitting here,” she said. “How about padding it with something,” Jason said. “I’ll run back inside and steal a pillow.” “No, don’t. Let’s get out of here,” Harley said. “I just want to get home.” Nodding, he understood. Making the trip in silence, Harley was surprised at how bad she felt, both physically and mentally. Pulling into the garage, Jason glanced over at her. She was finally smiling, the look of relief on her face signaling that she’d be okay once she returned to her children and the safety of their life away from the hospital.

Chapter 6 During medical leave, daily life changed in addition to what having cancer had imposed upon Harley. The children were back in school again, including Devon in prekindergarten. Fran came by the first few days to help out, but by Wednesday, five days post-op, Harley wanted to take over. The house was empty for five hours each morning, longer than it had been in the years since Devon was born. Fran hesitated about taking time off. “You’ll be stuck here soon enough when I go back to work,” Harley said. “Enjoy your freedom while you can.” There were still rounds of chemotherapy to look forward to, as well as daily radiation. When Harley felt well enough, her sister Melissa came by with electric clippers, taking care of Harley’s hair problem in one maneuver. “There,” Harley said, satisfied. “No more hair all over my bed and clogging the drain.” She rubbed her hand over her scalp, afraid to look in the mirror. “How do I look?” Melissa critiqued her sister, hands folded over her pregnant belly. “Like a cross between a high fashion model and a starvation victim. How much weight have you lost, anyway?” Harley moved to the scale, kicking off her shoes and got on, Melissa peering over her shoulder. “Yikes,” Harley said, frowning. “One fifteen.” “You’ve lost ten pounds? What the hell? Has your husband said anything?” Melissa said, shocked. Her sister, normally on the thin side couldn’t afford to lose more weight. “Have you had much nausea with the chemo? Because I’ve never heard you complain.” “Not really,” she answered. “I don’t think he notices. It’s because I’m not eating. Nothing appeals to me.” “Well, you need to knock it off. I’m telling Fran to force feed you.”

Harley laughed. “Oh, God, don’t do that,” she replied. “I’ll be more conscientious about eating.” The last thing she wanted; her lack of appetite to be general conversation among Jason’s relatives.

Communication between Jason and Harley had changed, too. Their background in nursing should have prepared the couple for the upheaval in their lives the diagnosis triggered, but expertise in their patient’s lives didn’t necessarily mean they could apply it to their own. He was exhausted from working, but she was rested from being at home, healing. She didn’t notice it when she was working, but now his inattention was obvious. Because of the potential loss of income if she had to stay out longer than her sick time and short term disability covered, he was logging in more overtime, planning for the eventuality that she might not be able to work. It was a tough scenario, but a realistic one. And it wasn’t something they openly discussed, Jason wanting her to heal in an atmosphere of tranquility. As far as Harley was concerned, she wanted to focus on a cure, but didn’t know what more she could do besides have her breast removed and the chemo and radiation. She had a healthy lifestyle before the diagnosis. Holistic treatments suggested raw, vegan diets, or colon cleansings, elixirs and concoctions mixed by naturalists, all things she was leery of undertaking, especially with her weight a potential issue. By the end of the first week after surgery, the family was ready to hole up in the house with the doors locked. Fran, Melissa and neighbors had provided meals; a new movie the girls wanted to see came out in DVD. The weather even cooperated, rainy and cool. Fall was on its way. Together on the oversized couch, Devon and Tina curled up in one recliner while everyone else had their own. It was like old times, a normal weekend activity. Jason was soon snoring in his recliner, and by midnight, the girls slept, too. Only Harley was awake, the volume down so low she had to strain to hear it. Looking over her family, the nebulous notion she’d built up of their security teetered on the brink of collapse. How long did she have? The computer said on average, three years. Would she be alive for Angie’s high school graduation in less than three years? Or would she be fighting

for her life and only last until spring? The people she’d encountered on her weekly medical visits repeated the same, vague factoids she could get on the internet. Three years survival rate for eighty-two percent. Three years screamed volumes. She wanted more than three years. Devon would only be seven in three years. Remembering that age in the other girls, seven was a year of boogeymen. Losing a parent at seven, especially a mother might be insurmountable. Growing up in a household with a father in a wheelchair had its own brand of issues for Harley. She would try to emulate the strength and the normalcy her parents provided for the children but she wanted more than three years to do so. At her next oncology appointment, she asked Dr. Michaels how long she had. He squirmed a little, fussing with imaginary items on the counter behind him. “Great, that answers my question,” she replied petulantly. He turned to her quickly with a frown. “I just want to get it right, Harley. We have pat answers for patients who are too fragile to hear the truth. I don’t want to give you a pat answer. All I have are statistics, percentages and years and numbers, which mean nothing, because you could be on the high end of a range of numbers.” “Look, I know all that. I know the cancer is in my liver and how it lowers my chances for survival. What’s the worst case scenario?” “I’m not going there,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not fair to you. You could walk out onto Broad Street and get slammed by a cab.” “I’ve read the average lifespan with stage IV is three years,” she said, looking him in the eye. Dr. Michaels kept his face neutral while silently cursing the computer. “I’d say for you, as quickly as you acted and your general health, three years is a good minimum.” Sighing, Harley could see her chance of surviving cancer was a crapshoot, like all of life. “Look. Take one day at a time as we should all be doing. Enjoy your family and if you feel up to it, go back to work. Get rid of the clutter in your life, both animate and inanimate.” She’d started decluttering since that fateful night when Jason touched her breast and this whole ordeal began. “I can think of a few people I don’t need to keep around,” she said. He nodded,

understanding. “Me, too,” he said. Taking her hand, he looked her straight in the eye this time. “Harley, you have my word, I’ll be honest with you. Right now there’s every reason to think you have good odds.” “So hope for the best and plan for the worst,” she said. “Plan smart,” he replied, correcting her. “You probably already have things in place in case you and your husband were to meet a tragic end, right?” “Yep. Ever since the first kid was born.” “Well, there you go. You’re planning for the future.” She nodded her head, hoping he was right.

That night, she was going to look at her chest for the first time. It had been almost two weeks since surgery. She’d gone back to Andy’s office for a dressing change and more recently, to have the drain removed. Both instances, she asked Jason to wait outside in the waiting room. She wasn’t ready for him to see her wound with an audience, objectively like a patient on the OR table. This was her body. Her breasts had played a role in their intimate life all these years. The demise of one of them deserved his full attention, alone, in privacy. After dinner, she excused herself to take a shower. Jason came up to her before she could get away. “Do you need any help?” he asked, sweetly. But she shook her head. “I need to do this alone,” she answered. He understood what was going to happen. She’d been bathing in the tub to keep the dressings dry, a large rectangle of plastic wrap spread over it. Removing her dressing without looking, she wanted it at least clean the first time she looked. The area was numb, nerves cut along with tissue both good and diseased. Averting her eyes, she stepped into the shower after allowing the water to run. Turning it down to a sprinkle, she was afraid the driving stream would be painful, but it didn’t feel like anything, a prickly feeling like a limb having gone to sleep about as annoying as it got. Lathering up a washcloth, she didn’t think she could tolerate feeling the area with her bare hands, like discovering a new body part. Remembering the first post-partum

shower, she did the same thing, not touching her body, afraid the foreign shaved parts would be grotesque. “You’re a nurse,” she said softly. “Get over with the weirdness.” But she couldn’t help it. Reaching very slowly up to the missing breast with the washcloth, she touched her skin and the same, part numb, part prickly sensation arose. There was nothing there. For the first time, she felt sorry for herself. It wasn’t bad enough that she was going to die long before her time, but she’d die maimed, too. It’s just a breast, her inner voice said. What’s the sudden big deal? It was never just a breast to her though. As a thirteen-year-old, the other girls in her class were wearing bras, little stretchy garments that didn’t provide much but a sense of pride. They were growing up. Harley ran home the first time she saw one of the bras and begged Maryanne to buy her own. “You don’t need one,” Maryanne said caustically. “You’ll have plenty of time to wear a bra and then you’ll hate it.” But she never did. The first thing Harley did in the morning was put on a bra and the last thing she did at night, even after brushing her teeth, was take it off. Harley bowed her head and wept. Her breasts were useful; a source of food for four babies, the balancing commodity for her large rear-end. “You’re proportioned,” her sisters used to say. “Harley’s thin, but she’s got that booty.” Her breasts were part of her, like her small, pointed nose and her tiny hands, her red hair. “Get over it,” she repeated, turning in the shower to allow the water to rinse soap suds off. She reached to turn the faucet off with her right hand and automatically her left hand came up to her absent breast to protect it, a force of habit developed over the past two weeks. But in the shower there wasn’t the padding of the dressing, and the unfamiliar flatness, with a ridge of scar tissue surprised her. Quickly pulling it away, she reached for her towel. All things in due time, she said to herself. Minute by minute, as determination overcame fear, she would make decisions. Avoiding the mirror, she dried off and put underpants and a t-shirt on. The knit cotton was soft, washed many times, but against her absent breast, she felt the same numb prickliness. “Can I come in?” It was Jason, standing on the other side of the door. She put the towel around her bald head and reached for the knob.

“What’s up?” she asked. “Just checking on you,” he said, looking at her t-shirt, the absence of a dressing obvious on the affected side, which was now flat. “I’m okay,” she replied. Both holding back from the other, she wondered how long it would take before someone broke the ice. She was afraid to be the one to do it because it was taking everything she had to keep it together. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she reached up to do a maneuver Jason watched her do for years; bend at the waist to towel dry her hair. But when she put her hands up to the towel, she remembered there was nothing to dry. He watched her, holding his breath. “Oops,” she said, pulling the towel off, her bald head jarring after getting used to a bandana worn Carmen Miranda style. The towel on the floor between her feet, her face and body spoke defeat loud and clear. Jason searched for just the right words to say, settling on silence after all. He sat on the edge of the bed next to her and took her hand, waiting. Sighing, Harley bit her lip, determined not to cry. “I’m afraid,” she said softly. “Afraid of getting sick, afraid of my altered body. I’m afraid of dying.” He put his arm around her, hugging her, but trying not to smoother her. “What’s your biggest worry, right now?” “Leaving you and the girls,” Harley said without hesitation. “I can’t tell you not to think about it yet. It’s probably terrifying for you. But if it happens, it won’t be overnight.” Harley looked up at him, putting her fingers to the corner of her eye where a tear threatened to leak out. “True,” she said. “What’s the next worry?” he asked. “I’m afraid to look at my chest,” she admitted. “I’ve seen hundreds of mastectomies.” “Can I look at it?” Jason asked. “Maybe showing me will take some of the fear out of it for you.” Folding her arms over her chest, Harley popped up off the bed, shaking her head. “No, Jason. I can’t do this.” She put her hands over her face and started to cry, unable to control it. She felt silly and childish, and justified, all in one. “Take your time, Harley,” he said, pulling her to him. “You never have to look if you don’t want to.” He knew that was a lie, that if they were going to have any kind of

intimate relationship she was going to have to deal with her fear. “Don’t go to work now and tell all your buddies about this,” she said. “‘My wife won’t show me her surgery. She’s acting like a child.’” “Harley, I would never repeat this to anyone. You have to believe me.” She twisted away from him, unreasonable anger toward him surfacing. Recognizing there might be something else at play, she tried to speak rationally. “Jason, maybe the chemo is doing a number on me, or maybe it’s just having cancer that is freaking me out. Right now, I just want to be left alone. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt your feelings.” Releasing her, now it was his turn to give in to defeat, and she saw it, but was powerless to go to him. “What can I do?” he asked. “Nothing,” she said, sighing. “It’s something I need to work out on my own.” She wished he’d fall to his knees and cry out I can’t live without you! Don’t push me away. It was clear she didn’t know what she wanted. “No, there is something,” she replied. “Don’t give up on me.” Pulling her over again, he reached up to caress her bald head, liking the picky sensation of new hair growing in already. “Never,” he promised.

Chapter 7 With the four girls in school, there wasn’t much to do around the house. Harley could go back to work the following week, but she was glad she was home now, savoring every second, acting as her daughters’ dressing room aide, ironing tops, and braiding hair. Even little Devon got into the act, asking to wear specific clothing, emulating Tina. “Tina looks like a princess,” she said. “I want to look just like her.” “I’ll remember that the next time we shop for your clothes,” Harley said, combing her long hair into a ponytail. Jumping up and down Devon was excited about the prospect of shopping, easy for her mother to see whom she was taking after. “I want to go shopping after school!” Harley remembered the other three after a day of nursery school. They came into the house making, a beeline for the couch exhausted, often falling asleep until dinner. “We’ll see how you feel when I pick you up after school.” She was going to drive them; banishing guilt because she’d worked. That first week of school, Devon’s foray into pre-kindergarten tolerated and enjoyed, was the beginning of a new chapter in Harley’s life. Instead of taking it for granted that her daughters would always have her doing what made their lives easier, she would begin teaching them to accomplish it themselves. One morning after she returned from dropping them off at three different schools, she had one goal in mind; make a list of the things she felt were most important for them to be able to do on their own and for each other. The issues that she harped on included drinking enough water, taking care of their skin, good hygiene, flossing; all the stuff mothers bugged their kids about. But if there was a possibility she wouldn’t be there to remind them, the next best thing would be to put it writing. Harley wrote a journal of sorts to each girl, using bound books with blank pages. Worries included Devon starting her period without her mother there to

help her. She’d ask the older girls if they would help Devon, prefacing the message with, Just in case I’m gone when it happens, I hope you’ll help Devon with the same help you received. Remind her to do yoga to sooth cramps. When she wrote that sentence, she laughed, deliberately not spelling out Downward Facing Dog, which was the position most helpful for cramps, because she understood it might spark irreverent humor and she wanted her girls to take the suggestions seriously. When Bennie suffered from bad cramps just a few months before Harley’s surgery, Harley led an impromptu yoga class in the family room that little Devon participated in. She’d do it again soon and have Jason take pictures for the journals.

Returning to work part-time was difficult simply because of having to leave her daughters again, even though Fran would be there in the morning to get them off and in the afternoon to greet them getting off the bus. The first day, she was grateful her nurse manager had her come in later in the morning so she wasn’t bombarded with wellwishers. It was going to be difficult enough with eyes looking at her chest. A rubbery breast prosthesis pinned in her bra worked, weighing about the same at her natural breast, so there was something in the cup to balance her body. It felt natural. But the looks were still there. Jason had conveyed the daily hellos colleagues sent her when she was still at home. The same nurses sought her out to welcome her back to work. A new dilemma confronted her as she tried to keep her focus on what was happening in the recovery room; the temptation to spy on Jason in the OR would be overwhelming if she let it take root. They’d worked together for years, why would it be different now. Well, dummy, for one thing because he might be a free man soon. The train of thought was addictive. If she died, whom would Jason end up with? He wouldn’t be single for long, she was sure of it; he was handsome and hot, successful and kind. But there wasn’t one single woman in the OR that she’d want for a stepmother to her girls. Going back to work was good for her; it would be foolish to take a man like Jason for granted with young, single nurses swirling around him like bees, vying for his attention right under her nose, wouldn’t it? One in particular caught her eye, an attractive twenty-something whose assignment was in the same room Jason worked in

on her first day back. “Who’s that?” she whispered to Carol as they prepared a cubicle for the next patient. Jason pushed his patient’s stretcher into the recovery room with the girl leading the way. Harley’s eyes went to her breasts immediately. They were large, round and animated, even in scrubs. “Tiffany. Who else,” Carol replied with attitude. “She started last week.” Harley wondered if she’d worked in Jason’s room everyday since her hire. “Ah, Tiffany,” Harley said, trying not to be envious. Jason and Tiffany stood by the bedside, filling in paperwork. They seemed a little too cozy for Harley, but she wouldn’t confront him. He couldn’t quit his job because a Barbie Doll had the same assignment as he did. After he finished giving report to the recovery room nurse, she thought he might seek her out to see how her day was going, but he walked out of the room without even looking her way. The omission on his part was innocent; they’d never hung around each other in the past, did they? Finally, he nodded in her direction, mouthing how are you? with his eyebrows in question marks. His attention gave her a thrill, and rather than comfort her, it scared her. Why had her expectations of her husband changed so drastically? That night as she undressed, she felt strong enough to look at her wound. Following her usual routine, she took a shower without looking in the mirror. But when she got out, she changed her normal procedure and stood at her sink. A mirror ran the length of the wall, and as she prepared to examine her body for the first time post-surgery, she began by looking at the survivor. Trying to look at her breast as she would her arm or her nose was impossible; breasts were icons of worship. Women went to great lengths to make them larger and perkier. After a certain age, they gladly submitted to torture to keep their breasts safe by having a yearly mammogram. Gradually, she moved her eyes across to the other side, the affected side. It wasn’t as bad as she feared. Andy did a nice job; left behind, a slender pink thread traveling from the right side of her sternum diagonally across her chest to almost her side. She disliked referring to it as a wound or a scar, chest was probably more appropriate, but so androgynous. She wanted a word that would describe where my breast used to be. Later that night, she told Jason about looking and surviving the experience. She hated

that she didn’t have a word for what was left behind. “Are you ready to show me your booby?” he whispered. She put her hand to her mouth and giggled. Jason loved her; he’d been serious when she needed it, and jovial when she longed for it, after everything she’d gone through. Continuing to try to keep akin to her lead, he must have felt she needed levity right then. And by referring to what was still there, it took the focus off what was missing. “Booby?” she asked, shy. “You know. I haven’t seen it for a while.” “I guess I can show you,” she said, nervous, frightened. She knew him well. His response now had more power than she should allow it to have, but he was her husband. Jason’s reaction could make it or break it for her. They stood apart from each other and she reached up to unbutton her pajama top. She pulled her left arm out first, carefully guiding her right arm out of the sleeve, gently because it was still sore from the lymph node dissection. He didn’t’ reach out to help her, watching her undress. It was an act of his will, letting her do it alone. “Unhooking my bra is still a little tough,” she said, reaching behind. She let the straps fall down her arms, the right cup weighted down by the prosthesis fell to her waist. Harley watched Jason’s eyes, his facial muscles stiffening as his eyes stayed focused on the right side of her chest, where a nice round breast used to be. Flushed, the color worked its way up his neck and over his cheekbones, his black hair shining, one lock over his forehead giving him the appearance of a young boy. He grasped the bra and threw it on the bed, falling to his knees; he buried his face in her midriff. His body began to shake and she knew then, he was brokenhearted. That night, they made love again for the first time in weeks, and Harley let him kiss the place where there was once a breast.

The approaching holidays coincided with the end of chemo and radiation for Harley. She’d completed one round of chemo shortly after surgery, and then the pathology report on her lymph nodes revealed that the drugs didn’t have the effect hoped for, they started her on another, grueling round. Scheduling treatments around her job, she worked Monday and Wednesday, had her treatment on Thursday, and recovered during

the long weekend. No matter how badly she felt, she remembered the effort her parents took to keep their home life normal for her and her sisters, so she always got up, dressed and put on make up. Moping around in a robe and her bald head sounded appealing, but she fought the urge. Wearing the selection of outlandish wigs her friends and family brought her – pink afros and long glamour wigs, braids and mohawks, her girls loved it, and it made her feel better knowing the wigs brought them joy. Tina crocheted and knit her an extensive wardrobe of caps – flapper caps, cloches, and hats adorned with flowers, beads and gems. Over exaggerating make-up application, she secretly thought she looked like a demented rock star. Finally, the treatments were completed. By the spring, she had a full head of hair and life was getting back to normal.

Two Years Later

Chapter 8 Harley prepared for a wonderful summer down the Jersey shore. The family cottage in Sea Isle City would be the scene of Devon’s sixth birthday party. After work on that July Friday, Harley stopped by the store and got a sheet cake for forty people. When Jason saw it, he frowned. “How many people are coming to this thing?” “Your family, of course, and my mom and sisters and their kids. It’ll be fun. You’ll see.” “It’s not fun I’m worried about. That cake is huge.” “Ha! I plan on eating a good portion of it,” Harley replied, laughing. It was a joke among the Joneses that the big sheet cakes were enough for forty average people or fourteen Joneses. “How do you feel about your mother driving up by herself again?” Jason asked. “She was just here two weeks ago for Bennie’s graduation party.” He didn’t want to go to Delaware to bring her up but would if it was what Harley required of him. “She’ll be fine. It’s only a three-hour drive and she’s staying over. It’ll be great to see her.” Harley avoided leaving her family now for any length of time, so the overnight visits she used to enjoy, packing up her car for a long weekend alone with her mother no longer happened. If the whole family couldn’t get away to visit her, Maryanne came up to Harley. Melissa and Kelly could come too, making new memories at Harley’s house. Subconsciously, Harley knew what she was doing; she was ensuring that her girls had plenty of fun times to rehash after she was gone. Getting through two years without a recurrence was a reason to celebrate. But Harley felt like she was holding her breath all the time lately, waiting for something to happen. Before long, that feeling of impending doom segued to reality when she really couldn’t catch her breath. While preparing Bennie’s graduation party two weeks

earlier, Harley didn’t even notice she was having difficulty getting air, standing at the shore house kitchen counter assembling a lasagna. “You sound like a choo choo train,” Jason teased. “Were you running laps?” She giggled, reaching for the mozzarella. The gravity of what he’d said hit them at the same time seconds later. Grabbing his arm, she fell against him. “Oh my God,” she whispered, gasping for breath. He led her over to a chair. “Sit down. Don’t do anything for a few minutes. It might just be exertion.” “I haven’t done anything but put a lasagna together,” she said, scared. He put his hand on the back of her neck and sat next to her. “Slow deep breaths,” he said. The starvation for breath stopped, but pinpricks of fear ran up and down her arms. “You’d better make an appointment to see the oncologist Monday. But he was out of town for a week. “You can see the person who’s covering for him if this is an emergency,” Fern said. “It’s not really an emergency,” Harley said, making light of it. After that episode, it hadn’t happened again. Like walking on eggshells, she was careful not to exert herself for the rest of the weekend. “I had sort of a breathing issue on Saturday, that’s all. I’m not sure what brought it on.” “Well, if it happens again, go around to the emergency room,” Fern said. “Don’t mess around with your breathing.” “I was down at the shore,” Harley said. “There are hospitals down there, too,” Fern said. Harley could hear rustling around of paper. “Can you come in next Monday? It’ll be his first day back so God only knows what this office will look like.” “Monday’s fine,” Harley said. “If you have a problem before then, like I said, go to thee emergency room.” “Yes, ma’am,” Harley said. All of her fears about leaving Jason and the girls resurfaced. “You can’t be sure the cancer is back until you have the scans,” Jason said that night after dinner, trying and failing at reasoning with her.

“It’s a realistic concern,” Harley replied. “We need to plan accordingly. The truth is, you could get bumped off tomorrow, god forbid, and I’d be up shit creek because I don’t even know what the passwords to your computer are. You pay everything online. What am I supposed to do? Wait until they shut the electricity off to find out what our account number is?” “Point taken,” he said. “We can work on that right now. Get a paper and pen and sit here while I go through bills.” For the next hour, Jason gave her due dates and account numbers and passwords and Harley jotted everything down. “I’ll make a spread sheet of this later,” he said, sticking the paper in the scanner. “Do you feel better?” “No,” she answered. “But thanks for trying.” On the following Monday, Fern from Doctor Michaels office called before Harley’s appointment. “He wants to save you from coming in today. You need to have repeat scans and blood work. Can you have those done this week? I can set up appointments so you can do it while you’re in town for work.” Harley thought about it for a second. “Yes, that’s fine. Thank you.” She gave Fern the days she’d be at work. “I hope I can get everything scheduled on those three days,” Fern replied. Happily, Fern came through. Harley would have a PET scan, a chest X-Ray, blood work, and a mammogram on her left breast. The PET scan was scheduled for Friday, giving Harley the entire weekend to make herself sick with worry. But Jeremy Michaels was too kind to let her wait. He called the radiologist and requested a verbal report. That night, after dinner, she was joking with her girls around the diner table when the phone rang. Jason answered it. “Harley,” he called from the hallway. “You have a call.” She finished her conversation with the girls before walking to the phone. Jason was standing as stiff as a statute, holding the phone out for her to take. “Who is it?” she asked, frowning. “Doctor Michaels.” Harley’s heart banged in her chest, taking the phone. “This is Harley,” she said, hesitating. “Hi Harley, I didn’t want you waiting around all weekend for a report.” “Thank you,” she replied.

“Your blood work looks okay. You’re still slightly anemic.” He paused, and it made Harley crazy as she could hear him shuffling through papers. “Your chest X-Ray has an infiltrate in the left lung. It could be a touch of pneumonia, which could explain the shortness of breath. Have you had anymore episodes?” “No. Pneumonia I can live with,” she said. “What about the PET scan?” “The PET scan shows a hot spot on your liver, which we know about. There’s a new, tiny spot on your lung. To be safe I think the wise thing to do is another round of chemotherapy. Get rid of it now, before it causes trouble.” “Ugh. I thought I might be done with all of that.” The doctor said he’d line up everything for Monday. She was to rest up in the meantime. While Harley chatted with the oncologist, choosing her words carefully so as not to upset Jason, he held onto the wall, fighting the sensation that he was sliding down into an abyss. Smart and well read, Jason understood what the deeper meaning of Harley’s benign chat with the oncologist was. His wife was fighting for her life. Leaning over, he looked down the dark hallway into the brightly lit kitchen, at his family, his four, beautiful daughters, the youngest dealing cards to the other. He could hear Angie instruct Devon. “Give Mom and Dad their hands.” As Harley said goodbye to the doctor, Jason took a deep breath, trying to pull it together. “That sounded ominous,” he said, decided pussyfooting around was not going to work from this moment forward. Harley sighed. “It’s not a big deal. There’s a spot on my lung, might be pneumonia, which is why I’m short of breath. Another is, you know.” Her lungs? Jason thought. Now we are going to worry about her lungs? Thanks. Channeling his anger at God helped Jason deal with the emotional upheaval. Staying calm for Harley and the girls was priority. “He’s calling in a script for antibiotics to the drugstore. Do you want to take a ride?” “Tell the girls we’re going out to pick up ice cream,” Jason said. Harley went into the kitchen, leaving Jason to stew in the hallway. “Get chocolate syrup!” Bennie yelled, the others adding their requests. Jason was at the door, motioning for Harley to hurry. She could tell he was agitated,

the news as upsetting to him as it was to her. He put his hand on her back and rushed her into the garage, opening her door and waiting until she got in. “Go ahead,” he said, waiting to start the car. “What else did he say?” “He thinks more chemotherapy is necessary, just to ward off something bigger. I start it Monday.” “Oh, Jesus God!” Jason shouted, banging the steering wheel. “I’m sorry! This is not what I expected.” She patted his hand. “I know,” she said. “Me, either. Let’s just take it day by day again. I was getting complacent.” Shuddering, she thought of the house they’d looked at down at the shore, near Fran and Joe’s place, almost buying it, forgetting it would take two incomes to support it. He leaned forward to put the key in the ignition. “I was, too,” he said, sniffing. “Trusting God and all that shit.” Harley cringed, Jason using God’s name and cursing in the same sentence. Trusting God. Where did that even come into play now? Trusting Him to heal her? To make sure the girls would be okay after she was gone? Trusting Him to care for starving children in Africa? Babies with cancer? Why did she think she was more important than they were? “I have to believe God loves me, Jason. This isn’t fair, but there’s so much we don’t understand.” “I know all that,” he replied, tears on his cheeks. “But what if it’s a crock? We’ll die and there will be nothing.” He couldn’t control it, knowing his outburst was probably making it much worse for Harley but finding it impossible to control. “Okay, say it is a crock. This is it, there’s no afterlife, no heaven. I’d better make the best of it now. You, too. We should have been living like Thoreau. Or hippies.” He laughed through his tears, pulling the car into the drugstore parking lot. “I’ll go in,” she said looking over at his tear stained face and red eyes. “You’re a mess.” He agreed, watching her get out and walk away. He didn’t want Harley to die. It had nothing to do with fear of being alone to raise the girls. Life without his beautiful wife was unimaginable. They’d spent the greater part of everyday together for most of their

adult life, working together. Knowing she was just a few feet away from him at work made his job easier. They rarely had a cross word for each other and had sailed through life until this. Waving a small bag at him, Harley got back into the car. “Now you have to go to Wawa for ice cream.” “Me and my big mouth,” he answered.

The next morning, before breakfast Harley told the girls what the doctor said, deciding to be upfront about everything, sparing the scarier details. She didn’t mention lungs, just that she needed more chemotherapy. General silence took over the breakfast table; Jason broke the ice by leaving for a tennis game with Andy Forman. Accepting Jason would probably go into detail about the metastases with Andy, Harley let it go. Having a tough enough time with what was happening to their life, if he needed to share it with a friend, at least it was her surgeon. Cooking oatmeal for Tina and eggs for Angie with Devon clinging to her, Harley concentrated on keeping her emotions intact while she stood at the stove. Bennie poured coffee for everyone. “I decided to stay here for school in the fall,” she said. Harley stopped turning eggs and turned the heat off. “What are you talking about? You’re going to Columbia and that’s that. Everything’s ready. And paid for.” “Mom, I want to be here with you. Let’s not argue about it,” she said, stirring creamer into her coffee. “Bennie, they offered you more money than any other school. That’s not something you pass up lightly.” Bennie thought, it is if your mother is dying. She had access to the same internet sites Harley did, read the statistics, listened to what Harley revealed. More chemo meant more cancer. “Sorry, Mom, my mind’s made up. I’m not leaving you.” Harley stared ahead, anger with the disruption in her children’s lives growing faster than the fear that she might die sooner than originally thought. It wasn’t fair.

“Where are you going to go? You have to start school in the fall whether it’s in New York or closer to home. You need to keep the momentum going from high school.” “I’ll go right here. To the community college. I can almost walk to the campus.” Harley glanced at the table; Tina and Angie listening intently, worried expressions. Devon was still standing next to her, arms around her waist, looking up at Harley. “Julie’s mother says college isn’t for everyone,” Tina said. Harley put the spatula down and turned with her hand on her hip, jaw set, silently counting to ten. “Where does Julie’s brother work?” Harley asked. “Cottage Burger,” Tina answered, nodding her head. “Okay, I got it.” “I rest my case. He was a good student too, if I remember correctly,” Harley replied. “Do you think he’ll be able to support himself on what Cottage Burger pays?” “Probably not,” Angie answered. “Not if he wanted to move out of his mom and dad’s house.” “Bennie should stay here,” Devon said resolutely. “Ha! Oh, is that right?” Harley said, hugging her. “There you have it,” Angie said. “The Queen has spoken.” “Not going to college is not an option for my children. Get that straight, the four of you. You, too Devon.” “On Monday I’ll get in touch with the freshman liaison person at Columbia and give them the details,” Bennie said. “If I have to, I’ll ask for a letter from your doctor.” Older than her years, Harley wondered how much of Bennie’s self-sufficiency originated with having a mother who always worked. Stop blaming yourself because your kid is wise. Passing food around, they settled in for a leisurely breakfast without Jason’s hyperpresence. Harley imagined what it would be like if she wasn’t there, Jason sitting in his usual spot after making breakfast for the family like he sometimes did. It was pleasant when he was in charge, but different. Even after living with his wife and four daughters, Jason seemed mystified by the ways of hormonal women. “I think we should make Daddy a chart with everyone menses penciled in,” Harley said. The older girls laughed. “He still wouldn’t get it,” Angie said.

“Last month we had it at the same time,” Bennie said. “The poor man hid in the basement for an entire weekend.” “I’m going to try harder not to be so moody,” Tina said. “I’ve heard it’s helpful if you cut back on sugar and caffeine.” She raised her cup of coffee. “Teenaged girls probably shouldn’t drink as much coffee as you do,” Angie said. “It will stunt your growth.” Tina giggled. “I’m dying for a Wawa cappuccino,” she said. “That has to be good for at least an inch, a temper tantrum, and an extra five pounds.” “Don’t talk about it,” Bennie said. “Hurry and eat your oatmeal and I’ll take you to get one.” “Yum, it’s so thick and creamy,” Angie said. “But I have to watch it. Bathing suit season is here!” “Not that you’d know it,” Tina said, frowning. “We haven’t been to the shore yet this summer.” “We should be at the beach. Mom, you deserve a nice rest,” Angie said. “You can sit in a lounge chair all day.” That second Harley made the decision she wasn’t going back to work, taking the summer off to be with her girls. “You know what, you’re right. After my appointment on Monday, we’re going to the shore and staying there for the rest of the week. If Granny Fran doesn’t mind, maybe we should stay there for the rest of the summer. Shouts of excitement ricocheted off the walls. “Poor Daddy will have to be here all alone,” Devon said, pouting. “He’ll be fine! Think of how peaceful it will be here,” Harley said, patting her head. “We should go to Delaware next week, Mom,” Bennie said. “Switch off shore houses.” Harley slapped her knee. “Great idea!” Tina got up from the table. “I’m going to call Granny Maryanne,” she said, leaving the kitchen. Harley debated asking her not to say anything about the need for more chemotherapy and then thought better of it. Everything out in the open was for the best.

The first treatment was more difficult from which to recover. Tuesday morning, Before

he went to work, Jason asked the girls to let Harley sleep in. “I thought we were going to the shore today,” Devon said. “Mommy doesn’t feel good,” Bennie said. “When she wakes up she can decide if we’re going.” When she didn’t get up by noon, they were worried. Tiptoeing into her bedroom, Bennie waited for a second to make sure Harley was breathing, her own breath catching, heart racing. She could see her mother’s body moving slightly with each breath. “She’s still sleeping and I don’t want to wake her,” Bennie told her sisters, relieved. “We can go to the shore another day. Let’s clean up the house and make dinner, okay? Mom needs her rest.” Reality sinking in, the gravity that their mother was seriously ill and that she wouldn’t always be at their disposal as she had in the past, scared the girls. “Why’s she so sick?” Devon asked. “She’s got cancer,” Tina answered. “Tina, really?” Angie responded, Bennie gasping. “She doesn’t know what that is,” Tina hissed. “It’s not fair to her when everyone’s talking about it in front of her.” “What’s cancer?” Devon asked. Tina patted her on the head and pulled her over. “It’s a sickness older people get sometimes. It makes them tired.” “When will she be over it?” “Get outta this one, goofball,” Angie whispered. “She’ll feel better soon,” Tina replied, ignoring her. “Her doctor is giving her medicine that makes her feel tired, that’s all. She’ll be up and around soon.” “My ears are burning,” Harley said, walking in looking at the wall clock. “Sorry girls. Almost one. This is unprecedented.” “See, Devi, I told you!” Tina said. “Here’s Mom!” “How are you?” Bennie asked. “Better.” “Tina said you had cancer yesterday, Mommy. Is that true?” Harley looked at Tina, who shrugged her shoulders.

“She asked.” “I did,” Harley answered. “I had some medicine that made me sleepy.” “Can we go to the shore now?” “Devon, remember I said we’d go another day?” Bennie reminded her. “Sit down Mom. I’ll make you tea.” Devon pouted and stomped off to her room. “I was just going to tell her to go to her room for being such a little brat,” Angie said. “Everyone’s on edge,” Harley said. “I feel awful about it.” “Mother, stop it,” Bennie said. “We were just going to clean up. Come on, women, get busy.” Harley didn’t have the energy to tell them not to leave, to sit and visit her, because she didn’t have the energy to visit, either. “I think I’ll take my tea to bed, if that’s okay with everyone.” The girls told her to go, but they stood together, watching their mother disappear back to her bedroom. The next day, Bennie drove them to the shore, Harley guilt-ridden and regretful that she put a damper on everyone’s week. They’d have to come home Sunday so she could have her treatment on Monday. They wouldn’t be at the shore the rest of the summer, but it was better than nothing. Pulling up to the cottage, they received a nice surprise; Bea was there with the three cousins. Shouts of joy echoed throughout the campground as the girls raced to greet them. Michael had his fourth birthday and a companion to six-year-old Devon who was thrilled there was someone younger to push around.

Chapter 9 During that week of bliss, sun and ocean breezes, a fantasy to find a wife for Jason planted itself in Harley’s head. Each morning after breakfast, she and Bea sat in lounge chairs side by side by the water’s edge, Michael and Devon occupied building sand castles, the girls lying in their bikinis on a large old blanket, except for Tina, who wore a vintage bathing suit, white latex with black horizontal stripes that flattered her youthful body. “Only Tina could get away with it,” Harley said. Huge red sunglasses and a flowered turban completed her ensemble. “She reminds me so much of your mother when we were young. Maryanne was the fashionista of our neighborhood. I remember watching your father checking her out while she gardened in her capris. The other women on the block were all jealous of her. Tina is a mini Maryanne.” “Thinking of my girls after I’m gone makes me sad,” Harley admitted, looking over at the children. Bea watched her best friend as she shared her innermost feelings. There were no secrets between them. Harley was seriously ill; talk of death was natural and Bea was not going to suppress it by denying its truth. “You mean, possibly leaving them?” Harley nodded her head as they looked at the young, beautiful women on the cusp of adulthood. Bea couldn’t imagine leaving her girls with Dave, as wonderful a father as he was. Someone would have to step in; her mother or Fran. Could she offer to be there in Harley’s absence? The truth was it would be an almost impossible feat to pull off. Although they lived in the same school district, her children went to different schools. She worked full-time, and had her own unpredictable marriage to cope with. As much as she wanted to say to Harley that she’d help Jason, she knew it was giving lip service to a crushing dilemma. What would become of Harley’s family if she died?

“It’s the only thing that is really bothering me,” she said. “My girls need a mother. In order for Jason to find someone else, he’d have to waste his time dating. Even if he went on one of those dating sites, he’d still have to sort through a slew of people who aren’t appropriate.” Harley thought of Tiffany, and of Jason, alone at home all week while she vacationed at the shore. “How do you know this?” Bea asked. “I thought the whole point of a dating site is they do the work for you.” “Melissa met Charlie on LoveMatch. Don’t you remember the losers she had to sift through first? How can Jason do that with four daughters to take care of? It would take him forever to find someone.” “Do you have any single friends in mind?” Bea asked. “There are several at work I can picture in Jason’s bed but not as mothers to my daughters, if you get my drift.” Bea couldn’t help herself and laughed. “You are too much. I have two friends who would be knocking on my door before my funeral.” “Who?” Harley asked. “Not Annette Sanborn.” “Oh yes. Annette. You missed last weekend. She was here with her mother. Mrs. Sanborn knows Fran from Kiwanis. About five minutes after they arrived, believe it or not, Annette put on a bikini. I had to hide in the bedroom I was so pissed off.” “How’d she look?” “Fabulous,” Bea admitted, pouting. “Joe and Dave suddenly wanted to spend the day outside. I was ready to kill my husband, but since he doesn’t get it, I didn’t say a word. I was so proud of myself for keeping it together. I never put a suit on all weekend though. I hated it that she made me feel bad about myself.” “You let her have that power over you,” Harley said, annoyed. Annette Sanborn was a creep. “Annette on the other hand suddenly became an animated story teller, standing in front of the men, waving her hands as she talked, her boobs colliding. Joe was drooling. I finally told her to lay off Dave. ‘Don’t try to get your needs met flirting with my husband, Annette,’ I said. She laughed at me, but I have to hand it to her, she kept her distance after that.”

“She’s a ho. Don’t let her around Jason if I croak,” Harley said. “Hell no,” Bea replied, and they laughed again, sputtering, kicking their feet in the air. It was therapeutic, making fun of Annette. “I wish there was something I could do to protect him from the Annette’s of the world,” Harley said passionately. “I can’t stand the thought of him getting involved with someone who isn’t right for him when he’s vulnerable. There is just too much at stake with the girls’ wellbeing.” Bea glanced at her with a shrewd look. “There is something you can do.” “What? Kill him?” “No, silly. Find him a wife!” Harley looked over to her children, the youngest sitting with a bucket and a shovel, digging a hole and watching with wonder the water seeping in from the sand. The older girls were sleeping, Bennie with her wild hair, Harley’s hair, pulled into a ponytail, the sun glinting off it. When Harley died, every time Jason looked at Bennie, he’d think of her; all four girls would remind him. The thought of leaving them was so depressing. How could she be proactive? Finding someone to replace her was sort of a controlfreak act, but thinking of it made her feel better. “I’d have to join a dating service because there’s no one I know who would be good enough for my girls. Do you have anyone in mind?” “Look, this is just play, okay? I don’t plan on you dying anytime soon. We could just as well talk about me finding Dave another wife.” Harley sat up, straightening her straw hat. “I’m intrigued. It feels right, if I could get Jason to agree to it.” “He wouldn’t. I’m sorry I said anything,” Bea replied, worried she’d started something that might lead to trouble for Harley. “I could keep it a secret. I mean, he wouldn’t have to know initially. It would give me a chance to really check women out. Get to know them. Maybe even have them around the house once we determined they weren’t shysters.” “This is getting a little weird,” Bea said. She almost said you aren’t going to die, but caught it. It was a real possibility Harley was going to die sooner than later and Bea was one of the few people with whom

Harley could be real. That was how the conversation got started in the first place and she didn’t want to squelch Harley’s excitement. “I know. Isn’t it great? It’s almost like being a swinger without the sex.” They bellowed laughing. “You’re insane!” Bea shouted. “I do have one suggestion.” “Okay, I’m listening.” “Wait till school starts. I can see how this could monopolize your life and you want to spend the summer with the girls.” “I have six weeks of chemo to get through, too. And if yesterday was any indication of what’s to come, it’s going to suck.”

Chapter 10 But six weeks of chemotherapy flew by, Harley finding her rhythm quickly, treatment on Monday, rest on Tuesday, to the shore with the girls on Wednesday. Jason would come for the weekends that filled quickly with friends and family, Harley’s sisters and mother there, too. Later, they’d all say it was the best summer yet. And then that fateful dog day in late August, when Harley went back to Jeremy Michaels oncology office. The before and after contradiction was powerful, knocking the wind out of her. She was so hopeful before her visit, having a repeat PET scan and another chest X-Ray. Feeling excited about getting a positive report from him, she was animated and almost joyful when she greeted Fern at the desk. “No Devon today?” Fern asked. “Nope, the others are old enough to stay home alone and watch over her. Bennie will be eighteen soon.” “Have a seat, Harley. Doctor will see you in just a moment.” She sat down next to a table of ancient People magazines, most that she’d read on past visits. “I’m going to get you a subscription to People if I survive this,” she called out to Fern, the awfulness of what she had spontaneously said sending chills down her arms, her cheeks tingling. Of course, I’m going to survive, she thought. Fern looked up and smiled at her. “Doctor’s wife provides the reading,” she whispered, looking over her shoulder. Harley forced a grin, the apprehension dread making her sick to her stomach. Trying to recapture the positive outlook she had, she closed her eyes and did deep breathing. Everything would be fine, she was doing great, the chemo knocked the cancer out of her body for the last time. The pep talk helped and she relaxed. It was understandable, being anxious. Fortunately, she’d felt great up until that stupid comment about the magazine. She threw it back in the pile next to the dusty fake philodendron.

“Harley? Doctor will see you now,” the nurse said. Harley stood up, the backs of her legs sticking to the vinyl chair. Following her through the maze of exam rooms, the knowledge she probably wouldn’t be coming back was intense. There would be no need. In that moment, she’d prepared her heart to hear whatever the doctor had for her, relinquishing hope, accepting it was probably going to be bad. In those few minutes, she went through stages of grief that would cycle in the coming months, always ending at acceptance. After she left the office, she wanted to see Jason. The dust and detritus of the city blew against her bare legs as she walked to the main hospital from the parking lot, her eyes gritty, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Dying was a concept she’d toyed with but never attached any reality to. Now she had to get serious about her plans. The family had played it safe, not using cancer or its strappings to garner sympathy or special favors. Those days were gone forever and she’d milk it for she was worth if it would mean an easier time for her children. She was going to ask Jason to leave work and come with her to a quiet place to talk. Doubting he suspected it, the news would be a shock. She took the elevator up to the eighth floor and used her key to get into the dressing room. Thankfully, it was empty. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and it was about as placid as she could make it. He’d never guess by looking at her. Going through the door to the nurse’s lounge, she’d chat with whoever was in there while she waited for Jason.

***

A creature of habit, Jason had the ability to focus solely on the task at hand. His job as a nurse anesthetist required dedicated concentration, the mixing of drugs which could kill if not administered properly, monitoring a patient’s respiratory and cardiac function, documenting minute by minute changes. The discovery that night two years ago of Harley’s breast lesion and the subsequent insomnia wouldn’t interfere with his job. Once he passed the news off to his friend, Andy the breast surgeon, Jason could work without distraction. Setting up the anesthesia cart, going over the checklist of items necessary for its proper function,

sadly, the only thing that had the power to distract Jason was Tiffany’s perfume. He got a whiff of it the moment she walked through the door. It was such a contrast from Harley’s scent; soft and floral, it permeated everything she wore, even her pillow. Harley’s smell made Jason smile. It was pleasant memories and good things to come. Tiffany’s went straight to his groin, an exotic combination of smells from his teen days, musk and citrus and even patchouli. Turning his head to hide his smile, Tiffany was more like a teenager than an adult woman entrusted with lives. But she was a good nurse, reliable and safe, and in this day and age one couldn’t ask for much more. And she was pleasant to look at. Her breasts were amazing, two round globes that operated independently from one another, the talk of the locker room. In spite of Tiffany’s presence, Jason hadn’t thought of her in that way, yet. She was just another human being, regardless of his physical responses to her smell and her body. Devoted to his wife, another woman didn’t have the power to infiltrate his thoughts or fantasies, comparing her to a cute puppy that made you smile and warmed your heart but you’d sooner kill yourself than bring it home and have to housebreak it. Yes, Tiffany was just a friend. But like a friend, he grew to depend on her for certain pleasures his job didn’t provide otherwise. She laughed at his jokes and didn’t yet add drama to an already drama-rich environment. Although on the day he’d get the news that his wife was dying of breast cancer, he wasn’t aware that he needed Tiffany, it wouldn’t be long before her presence became more important than it should have, and unfortunately, he confided in her, failing to see the disloyalty Harley might perceive from it. Tiffany was making inroads that day. Harley paused at the lounge door, listening. She heard the drone of the deep male voice she knew right away belonged to her husband. Peeking in, it was empty, except for Jason. Jason and Tiffany. It appeared to be an innocent coffee break; he was sitting at the rectangular table with a cup in his hands, probably taking his first break of the day. She was sitting across from him, yammering, gesticulating with her hands, tossing her hair around, the blue cap all the nurses had to wear on the table in front of her. The look on his face set Harley back. It was the look she thought he’d reserved for her; attentive, approving, interested and the disloyalty stung. Thinking of several

criteria making him ripe for an affair; he was approaching middle age, his life was out of his control, his wife was draining what resources he had. A young, gorgeous creature was vying for his attention shamelessly, and he looked happy about it. Taking a deep breath, she stepped over the threshold, confidence waning, but determined. “Surprise!” Jason looked up, doing a double take from Barbie Doll to his wife and back again. Guilt on his face threw Harley a strike. What did it mean? Oh, please God, not Tiffany. “You’re the surprise,” he said, getting up. Fortunately, for him at least, he didn’t waste a second going to embrace her, kissing her cheek, clumsily reintroducing her to Tiffany. “What brings you in town today?” He’s forgotten the appointment, thank god. “I wanted to say hi,” she said, a wide smile plastered on her face. His discomfort was slightly more obvious than the smile so he didn’t notice how forced it was. “Can you slip away for a moment?” “Sure,” he said, looking at his watch. Something about the movement, him looking at the date probably, signaled to him why she was in town and the color drained from his face. He knew, she was sure, or he would have asked her what the doctor had to say in front of Tiffany. “I’ll let them know I’m leaving,” he said. She didn’t argue with him. “I’ll wait out in the hall,” Harley replied, but when he didn’t say goodbye to Tiffany, Harley put her best friendly expression on and waved, an attempt at making amends for her wishes that Tiffany would disappear. “Bye now, Tiffany. Have a good day back there in the trenches.” Tiffany smiled a small, interested smile, checking Harley out with maybe a hint of annoyance. “Hurry back,” she said facetiously. Harley knew then something hadn’t happened yet, but it might have if life had continued as it had; calm, uneventful, relatively healthy. Her breast’s intervention had put a stop to whatever Tiffany had planned, and if Harley worked quickly, she’d provide a reasonable substitute for her, someone worthy of her husband and children. Out in the brightly lit hallway, the smell of death, of old blood and formaldehyde,

dirty linens permeated everything. Harley wondered how she’d managed to spend half her life in such a dismal environment and not have scars to show for it. Soon, Jason came out of the men’s locker room door, dressed in Jason clothes; perfect jeans, slim fitting, short sleeved t-shirt, sandals. “You are so handsome,” she said sincerely. “No matter how many times I see you walk through a door, it always takes my breath away.” After kissing her on the mouth, he put his arm over her shoulder as they walked to the elevator, a backpack strap slung over his other arm. Harley glanced up at the security camera, aware the monitor was attached to the lounge wall across from where Tiffany sat, and smiled at it, knowing if they were being observed, that full mouth kiss had been witnessed, as well. “You do it for me, too,” he said. “You look nice today.” They rode the elevator down to the parking garage in silence, holding hands, the atmosphere of stress, of facing catastrophe as thick as fog. She glanced at his face, he was glassy eyed, a tick in his jaw gave away his inner turmoil. He held his hands out for the keys when she reached the car, unlocking, waiting until she sat down and had her seatbelt on before he closed the door. They rolled the windows down, the hot air blowing through the car. “Do you want to go out for lunch?” he asked softly. She shook her head. “Nope. I want to get home to the girls.” “Do you want to tell me what he said?” They looked at each other; Harley reached for his hand and shook her head. Jason kept his eyes on her, searching her face. The enormity of it was unfathomable. “The chemotherapy didn’t work,” she said. “I didn’t notice until this morning that a tiny area of my original surgical site is festering. He took a sample, but is sure it’s a reoccurrence.” “Can they do anything?” he asked. “Clinical trials?” “I don’t want any of that, Jay. I’m ready to live what I have left of the rest of my life with you and the girls. School starts soon but I wish we could delay it. “I’m going to hold off using oxygen until I can’t breathe. I don’t want sickroom supplies around the house until it’s necessary.”

“Whatever you want,” he said. “Andy needs to look at the wound, but if I have to have more surgery, I don’t want to have it at work.” “Why, Harley?” He asked. “You’d get the best care there. Everyone knows you.” “Honestly, because of Tiffany,” Harley replied, searching his face. “What’s going on with her?” “Nothing’s going on with Tiffany,” he answered without hesitation. If ever a rehearsed answer that was it. She waited and he looked away, aware he had to address Tiffany. “Nothing is going to happen with Tiffany. She’s let me know she’s available, that’s all. I would never get involved with someone like her anyway.” “You mean someone with no morals?” Harley asked with eyebrows raised. Jason grinned. “Someone with no morals. She could almost be my daughter.” “Okay, now that we’ve established that Tiffany is an issue, how’d she let you know she’s available?” Jason fidgeted, leaning forward to start the car and thought better of it. If what Harley said was true about her health, they had limited time together. He didn’t want Tiffany to be an ongoing concern. “She came up to me during a case, actually. ‘If you need to talk, I’m available,’ she said.” He didn’t tell her it initiated a torrent of heartfelt conversations about the possibility of losing his wife. “What did you say in return?” “I thanked her,” Jason replied, “and went back to work. You saw her in action back in the lounge. Tiffany’s a one-man band. She keeps herself entertained.” Harley was satisfied with Jason’s explanation. If he said he wasn’t involved with her, then he wasn’t. “Okay,” she said. “Thanks for allaying my fears.” “You didn’t think I was having an affair with her, did you?” “No, not an affair. Not yet, anyway. Jason, she wouldn’t be a good mother for our girls.” He grabbed her hand. “You are insane, you know that?” he replied laughing, but scared to death. Starting

the car, he turned the air conditioning on full blast. “I’m serious,” she said, frowning. “I know you are, and I’m telling you, you don’t have to worry.” He pulled out of the parking garage, heading to his car, not willing to have that conversation quite yet. “Let’s go back to the shore. I’ll take emergency family leave until next week when the girls go back to school. We’ll play on the beach for a week, okay?” “Okay. I’d like that very much.” She looked out the window, at the things she’d left unsaid. The doctor told her six months to a year. “You know I don’t like to do that,” Jeremy Michaels had said. “It’s not fair to you. I don’t have a crystal ball, Harley. All I can do is quote statistics.” “Give me the worst case scenario then,” she pleaded. “My daughter, Angie is going to graduate from high school next June.” “June is a good goal,” he said, knowing how awful it sounded, but needing to be honest with her. Odds were not in her favor. His words did make her feel awful, but the truth was important. She’d fight to live until Angie graduated high school. Tragically, she wouldn’t be there for Tina or for little Devon’s high school graduation, but she would celebrate all of their upcoming milestones with fervor, including Tina’s birthday, their wedding anniversary and her mother’s retirement. She’d make the Christmas holidays spectacular this year. Knowing the dangers of setting her expectations too high, she’d do what she could to make her children’s dreams come true. They arrived home at the same time. Jason got into Harley’s car again and they sat in the garage with the door closed for a while, before it got too hot to bear. “I don’t want to broadcast the details,” she said. “Everyone knows it’s bad or I wouldn’t have needed more treatment. Let’s just leave it between us. If anyone asks, we need to agree on an answer.” “Like what?” Jason asked. “If my parents ask, for instance, what do you want me to say?” “How about we’re going to take one day at a time,” she said. “Is that what we’re going to do?” he asked gently, needing more from her, but afraid to ask her for it.

“I don’t know how else to do it,” she answered. “We’re counting the days seems a little fatalistic.” Jason paused, carefully navigating the territory. Unable to hold back, he came out and asked her. “Did he say anything about how long you have?” Taking a deep breath, as deep as her battered lungs would allow, Harley nodded. “I hope to make it by Angie’s graduation.” Jason reached for her, gently embracing her, holding back the tears. He’d already cried so much, devastated about losing her, but he was ready to put that behind him. What lay ahead was the two of them making memories, showing each other as much love as they could, being together, in an imperfect world.

Chapter 11 After Jason left with Harley, Tiffany went back to the lounge and waited for her relief to call her back to work. Break long over; she had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach watching Jason and his wife in the security camera. First, the wife smiling as Jason left the lounge and walked toward her, him ducking down to kiss her, more than a peck on the cheek, grasping her upper arm with his free hand, then encircling her shoulder with his arm and walking off together. Perched on the edge of the table, focusing on the screen, she wouldn’t take her eyes off until they were out of sight. Jealous of a dying woman, Tiffany knew she was being selfish and unreasonable. She was in love with Jason, had been from the first day she worked with him. “Everyone, this is Tiffany,” Sally Albertson, the nurse manager announced during morning report. “Tiffany’s going into Dr. Forman’s room today with Joan.” Nodding at her, Joan led the way to their room to prepare for the first case of the day, explaining the routine. “We meet the patient in the holding area and come back to the room to open up the supplies. The anesthesia team will bring the patient back when we’re ready. We usually have Jason Jones giving anesthesia.” Reaching the room, Jason was setting up his cart. “Jay, this is Tiffany,” Joan said. She didn’t see his expression change when he looked at her, or the smile he gave her. Tiffany saw, however, and his reaction pleased her. They reached over the operating table and shook hands, both laughing because it was not something normally done. The mutual attraction was immediate. He was interested in her, asking questions, and Tiffany was excited to be the center of attention. After the patient was asleep on the table, Jason continued talking to her, spiking Andy Forman’s interest. So now both men in the room were feeding Tiffany’s ego. “It was so typical,” Joan told the others at break. “The young, vivacious girl and the

men vying for her attention made me sick.” “Did Harley meet her yet?” A colleague asked. “I’ll make sure she does. Tiffany can take the patient to recovery,” Joan said. “Harley won’t care,” another nurse piped in. “Jason’s devoted to her.”

It didn’t take long for Tiffany to discover the truth; Jason loved his wife. The interest he showed in Tiffany was purely friendship, an innocent flirtation from a man almost fifteen-years older than she was. Determined to get him to commit in some way, even to simply admit his attraction, the concept that she was longing for something immoral never occurred to her. She tried to picture Jason in her tiny apartment, or having dinner at her favorite restaurant in Chestnut Hill. Every activity the OR planned, she signed up to go. Tennis, hikes along the Wissahickon Creek, even shopping trips to the Reading Outlets with hopes that Jason would go, too. But the Joneses were family oriented, trips to his family’s shore house took up the summer months and activities centered on their children during the winter. Shortly after Tiffany started working, Harley had surgery. Tiffany doubled her efforts at being indispensable. It was working until that fateful day when Jason would tell her he’d never be unfaithful to Harley.

***

The week at the shore was blissful, in spite of the knowledge Jason and Harley shared. Bea and Dave came for a long weekend, family time spent in bathing suits, floating in the surf on boogie boards, no make up for the women, hot dogs and burgers and steak on the grill for dinner every night with fresh corn and Jersey tomatoes, and ice cream sundaes for dessert. The salt water seemed to help the sores that were popping up along Harley’s old surgery line, and when she wasn’t in the water, she kept a piece of gauze over it with paper tape, and wore a sweatshirt with no bra. Supposing she’d have to deal with it eventually, it was the counter irritant that prevented her from fully enjoying every second with her family, knowing cancer cell-filled fluid might seep through her

clothing. The cycle of grief was in full swing daily, denial; the way she was able to cope with her deteriorating health, anger at God, begging and making deals with him, depression, and acceptance. Each stage might last for seconds, but by the end of the week, she vacillated between depression and acceptance. Again, the big worry was for her girls. Friday when the men left for a fishing trip to Egg Harbor, she told Bea the truth and they wept on each other’s shoulders. The children had had enough sun for the week, the girls reading in their bedrooms while the younger two played in the sand under the pine trees. Harley watched little Devon patiently guiding Michael, and memories of the older girls at that age pierced her heart. She had to find a way to stay in their lives, to influence their futures. Jason was a wonderful father, but she couldn’t get it out of her head that they needed a woman, someone who loved their father and them as well. “I want to sign up on LoveMatch,” she said. Bea curled up on a lounge chair, reading a novel on her laptop. “Right now?” she asked. “Yep, right now,” Harley answered, determined. While the women perused the online dating world, five teen-aged girls shared their fears for the next school year. Bennie would be the first of the cousins to go to college. “I’m glad you’re not going to New York,” Cousin Sally announced. “It’s too far away for us to get together whenever we want.” “I’m glad, too, Ben,” Angie said. “I’ll be so lonely without you.” Tina nodded, but didn’t say what was in her heart. The girls skirted around the real issue; Harley’s health. Of the four girls, Tina might suffer the most when Harley died. Her artistic, gentle soul was terrified beyond anything she could imagine, the idea of losing her mother unthinkable. It wasn’t something she was able to put into words because she didn’t understand how her experience could be any worse than her sisters’ loss. Blaming herself, she denied there might be a special reason she was hurting more. No one understood her like Harley did. Jason knew there was something different about her, but he wasn’t able to identify with it. Since Harley’s last chemo treatment, Tina sensed something was very wrong but she was too worried about her mother to inquire. An insomniac, she’d creep through the

house during the early morning hours, hiding in the den with a book. She’d read more books that summer, sometimes one a day. Submerging in the plot of the stories, it was a way to forget what was going on with her mother. Bennie and Angie had their sports, friends, and each other. Devon was fickle; any adult woman seemed to satisfy her needs; Granny Fran or Harley, or one of the sisters, she’d latch on, demanding their attention, a survival mechanism she’d employ on her own. But Tina was a loner and Harley was her soulmate. “You’re just like my mother,” Harley once told her. “How?” Tina asked, frowning. “I don’t think I’m like her at all.” “She’s the most creative, talented woman, but it’s not evident because that part of her has faded.” Discouraged, Tina couldn’t imagine her grandmother being anything but the quiet, plain, person her granddaughters knew her to be. “What happened to her?” Tina asked. “She probably didn’t have time to nurture her creativity when we came along. You know my dad was injured in the war and she had to work to support us until he could get back to work. When you have priorities like a family and job, there often isn’t time or energy left at the end of the day to do anything not directly related to caring for your family.” “I’m never getting married then,” Tina said, dismayed. “Tina, my life would be so awful if I didn’t have you and your sisters and Daddy. I can’t even begin to imagine how empty and purposeless it would be.” “You’d be able to do whatever you wanted,” she replied. “Instead of working fulltime and taking care of us like Granny Maryanne had to do.” “I am doing what I want,” Harley said, hugging her. “I’m spending time with the most fascinating young woman I have ever met. Everything about you makes me so proud to be your mother. You’re so interesting, I just love hearing about what you’re going to do next. And my mother’s goal in life is to find all the good bargains for you at the Goodwill.” “Oh, no. I’d forgotten about how much Granny likes searching for vintage for me. Now I feel unappreciative and selfish.”

Harley hugged her, laughing. “That’s being a teenager. She loves to do it, loves to search for beautiful things for you.” “I’ll be more grateful next time,” Tina said. Listening to her sisters and cousins talking about the upcoming school year, Tina could only think of one thing; how terrible it would be when Harley died, deciding right then that she’d never have her own family to torture as they were being tortured.

Bea got up and pushed her chair closer to Harley’s. They’d studied the different dating sites Bea found and decided on LoveMatch because it looked like they might be able to get away with a little subterfuge. Harley’s plan was to pose as Jason and then be honest with respondents who fit the criteria. She’d be apologetic and truthful with them immediately. Hopefully, the gallows atmosphere would not scare them away. “Okay, let’s get started,” Bea said. “Here goes. Question number one. Are you looking for fun times or a serious, permanent relationship? Sorry, no brainer. Serious. Age?” “At least thirty,” Harley said. “Someone who’s ready to settle down.” “Divorced or widowed?” “I can hardly eliminate widowed, can I?” Bea ignored her. “Education.” “I have to think I’m Jason, now, and forget about what I want.” “What’s important?” Bea asked. “I would hope whoever it is thinks college is important for the girls. They have to be willing to sacrifice and not resent the money it will cost.” “Exactly,” Harley replied. “Physical appearance,” Bea read. “Are they serious?” “It’s important, unfortunately,” Harley said. “Jason likes slender athletic types, he says. But when push comes to shove, probably someone voluptuous. He used to go nuts when I was pregnant. I mean, like a wild man.” They howled laughing. “If you repeat that, I’ll haunt you.” “Scout’s honor,” Bea said, crossing her heart. “So how about fit, weight proportionate with height.”

“Perfect, Bea! Very good.” “Do you think hair and eye color are important to him?” “Probably not, but he is partial to redheads, as we know,” she answered smiling. Bea typed away as they talked about what they thought Jason might like in a woman and what Harley wanted in a mother for her girls. “Can she have children?” “Of course,” Harley said. “We’d know soon enough if we could stand them.” “Harley, how are you going to tell Jason you’re doing this? You can’t just spring a woman on him.” “I won’t. If he knows how important it is to me, he’ll go along with it. I don’t want to deceive anyone. Keep reading.” “Now they’re asking about Jason’s attributes,” Bea said chuckling. “You should type this stuff in. It might be more than I want to know about him.” “What can they ask?” Harley asked, taking the computer from her. Starting to read, she had to stop periodically to catch her breath, more from laughing than lung function. “In five sentences or less, describe your physical appearance.” The women exchanged smiles and spoke together. “He’s gorgeous.” “No offense to Dave,” Bea whispered, “but they don’t even look like they’re related.” “Dave looks like Fran and Jason takes after Joe. They’re brothers,” Harley said. “They both have beautiful eyes and that hair.” “Oh, that hair,” Bea repeated. They had thick, curly hair. But Jason had pale skin and dark blue eyes rimmed with long eyelashes. Dave had an olive complexion and nice brown eyes. Jason was tall and fit, just like his dad, while Dave was short and chubby like his mother. Loveable. “This is difficult because if I describe Jason it’ll sound likes he’s bragging about himself.” “Keep it simple,” Bea answered. They worked on the profile until the men returned from fishing. “We’ll finish up later tonight,” Bea whispered, taking the computer from Harley.

“Who knew how exhausting this would be?” Harley replied, getting out of her chair. “Yeah, you still have to wade through the respondents.” “Do you think there will be that many?” “According to LoveMatch, there are five women to every man,” Bea said. “I think you’ll be as busy as you want to be, interviewing.” “What are you two conspiring about?” Dave called, approaching his wife. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” Bea answered, smiling. “Just hangin’ out,” Harley said. “Are we having fish for dinner?” “We are, if I can get your old man to clean it,” he replied, laughing. Jason pulled fishing gear and a large cooler out of the back of the old pickup truck. “Don’t we have some children around here who need to have a refresher course in cleaning fish?” “I’ll round ‘em up,” Bea said, taking her computer in the house just in case Dave decided to snoop. He sat in her vacated chair. “So sister-in-law, what’d you two do today if I may ask? My wife can’t keep secrets from me,” he said grinning. “Did she tell you?” Harley hissed, sitting up. “Dave, don’t breathe a word. I need to find a way to convince Jay this is a good thing. And I’m never telling Bea my secrets again.” “It’s not her fault,” Dave replied. “Last night I used her computer to look up something and she had all these dating sites up. I accused her of looking for herself.” “You didn’t.” “I admit I’m a little jealous. Anyway, she didn’t have much choice about letting me in what you were going to do. I think it’s amazing of you, truly.” “We’ll see if it pans out. Your brother can be a little controlling. He might not go for it.” “Ha! I’d want my input, if Bea ever did it for me,” he said. “Of course I don’t want her to have to. I’m sorry about all of this. I don’t say anything because I invariably put my foot in my mouth.” Harley reached up to embrace Dave. “You’ve been the best brother-in-law a girl could ever have. I love you for being so good to my best friend.”

“You’re gonna make me cry,” he said, hugging her back. “Take care of Jason when the time comes,” she whispered. Dave fought the urge to say if wouldn’t be needed, knowing she needed validation and confirmation that life would go on after she left the earth. It made him ill, thinking about it, about his brother being free again, possibly bringing another woman around. Unreasonably, Dave felt jealous. After Dave went inside, Harley waited for Jason to finish emptying the cooler, setting the girls up to clean fish, their bickering and whining comical to hear. She watched, a silent onlooker, trying not to allow sadness or regrets in. Jason looked up at her, waving, and she smiled, staying in her lounge chair. She wanted him to approach her, willed him over. He must have picked up on her vibes because he said something to Bennie who turned to her and waved, too. He walked over and sat on the edge of Bea’s empty lounge chair. “You look rested,” he said, reaching for her hand. “I am. I’m feeling better about everything,” she said. “More hopeful.” “Wow, well that makes me happy,” Jason said, reaching for her. “Hope is good.” He stood up and yelled something to the girls, Harley watching him, the line of his back in a t-shirt, his fit body; a thrill from long ago, a feeling she thought she’d never have again after chemo did a number on her libido, cruised through her body. “Jason, bend down,” she whispered, pulling on his shorts. “I want to tell you something.” He bent over her chair with his ear to her mouth. “Let’s make love tonight. I won’t make a peep so your folks won’t hear,” she said teasingly. Smiling at her, she could tell he was pleased. “Wow, I was hoping you’d ask me,” he said, kissing her. “Absolutely. I won’t make a peep either.” It was the flirtatious dialogue they used to have in the old days, before a cancer diagnosis, before the end of her life was a constant companion. They had LoveMatch.com to thank for Harley’s change of attitude.

Chapter 12 Love matches for Jason trickled in slowly at first, and then suddenly after school started again, in a flood. Harley knew she needed to start contacting the women who fit the bill before they lost interest. Back at the shore for a fall weekend, Bea and Harley sat side by side in their lounge chairs, holding onto Bea’s computer. “With the kids in school, mothers are finally free to look for dates,” Bea said, scrolling through the responses they’d received. “What are you going to do?” “I’ll be upfront with them. It’ll help to weed out anyone who is grossed out by the gallows effect, or someone who wants instant gratification. I mean, I’ve got about a year, right? Not everyone will want to wait for a year,” Harley said. Bea was careful not to respond negatively. “What will you say?” “I’ve been thinking about how to approach it and I think I need to be straight right from the start,” she said. Getting out her note, she began to read. “This is Jason’s wife. I’m dying of cancer, have less than a year to live, and am helping to find a wife and mother for my wonderful husband and four daughters. My husband doesn’t know I’m doing so. Are you up to the challenge?” Bea caught her breath. It was the first time she heard Harley refer to when she might die. Wanting to put her head down and have a good cry, she waited to respond until she could safely speak. Harley knew what was happening to Bea, allowing the time to pass in silence as she read about the candidates. Hanging on until Angie’s graduation in June was her goal, she wondered if she’d even last that long. A string of cancer related health issues had risen to the surface. Slowly losing weight, she was afraid cachexia had taken root. The food she managed to eat no longer nourished her body, the looming danger of starvation shutting down all the systems that

supported her life. Medical Marijuana use wouldn’t be legalized in Pennsylvania until the following year, but a friend of Dave and Bea’s who was in remission with MS and lived in New Jersey where it was legal, shared his stash with Harley. It was in the form of little cookies and she didn’t have to smoke anything, stinking up the house. It had a low THC factor so she didn’t get high from it. By Halloween, she’d gained back a few pounds and looked better, according to Jason. And the best part was that she had regained the interest to pursue a mate for Jason just as the responses came pouring in. “Very good,” Bea finally answered. “Succinct, no nonsense. Jason would approve, too, I think. Did you read through any of these candidates?” “Just a few but most I vetoed right off the bat.” “That was fast,” Bea said, thinking that maybe when she got right down to the work, the idea of finding someone to take her place would be an impossible task because of jealousy alone. “Listen to this one,” Harley said. “‘I am really attracted to your picture. My name is Jessica, I’m twenty-five, work full-time at the Borgata in the Rainbow Room as a bartender. I went to Ocean County Community College for a year, and am saving money to go back next year. I love to play pool, travel to warm places and play with my nieces.’” “She’s a little young,” Bea said. “Nix. Next.” “Hi handsome, I’m Glorya, spelled with a Y. I work at the Family Fitness in Rehoboth Beach. My hobbies are running on the beach, exercising and listening to music. I’ll be thirty in April and an Aries. What sign are you?” Both women made loud, nasal buzzing noises and guffawed for a good minute, giving dual thumbs down after that one. When they were able to compose themselves, Harley with tears running down her cheeks started reading again. “‘Hey, I’m Lynne. I’m unemployed at the time but in the summer I work on the boardwalk at an arcade.’ Wait, I know her age was here somewhere. Oh, here it is,” Harley gave a loud cackle. “‘I’m a young forty-nine.’ What the hell is wrong with these women? I thought I made it clear what ages we were looking for.” They continued reading silently for a few minutes when Bea spoke up. “This one

sounds promising. ‘Dear Jason, I’m answering because I see you spend free time during the summer in Sea Isle and I live there year round. My name is Kathy, I’m thirty, single with a five-year-old daughter, Laura. I have my teacher’s certificate for the State of New Jersey but have been unable to find a teaching job and don’t want to leave the area. I support my daughter by working as a dealer at a casino in Atlantic City. Laura and I live with my mother who helps with childcare. Laura has Downs syndrome but is a normal, healthy child. I don’t have time for many hobbies, but I like crafts and hanging out with my daughter. I hope to hear from you.’” “God, how depressing,” Harley said. “Jason would be a lifeline for her.” “Your job isn’t to save anyone, Harl. This is about finding a mother for your girls.” “Well, let’s list the positives. She doesn’t say why she doesn’t want to relocate, but I bet it’s because her mother is helping her with childcare. Working to support her daughter is admirable. She could collect public assistance instead. A teacher is perfect because she’d be home during the summer.” “Get in touch if you like her,” Bea said. “Start the dialogue.” Harley copied and pasted her short narrative and sent it off to Kathy, mother of Laura. “Now we wait.” “No, we better keep looking. There’s safety in numbers,” Bea said. They continued reading and vetoing, finding just a few more candidates that were promising. “Listen to this. She’s perfect,” Bea said. “But it’s sad. ‘Hi Jason, my name is Donna. I’m thirty-six, a widow, a registered nurse, mother to two adolescent boys. My husband was killed in Iraq three years ago. I am just starting to date. I work full-time in the city, enjoy the Jersey shore when I can get there. I live in Northeast Philadelphia.’ What do you think?” “I’m trying to think if I know anyone at work whose husband was killed in Iraq,” Harley said, frowning. “That’s almost too depressing.” “There are five hospitals in Philly,” Bea said. “She could work at your hospital and you’d never know it, there are so many nurses.” “I’m trying to picture Jason rallying around a woman with a broken heart when he’s in a bad way himself and frankly, I don’t want him to have to spend the emotional energy.”

“Gotcha,” Bea said. “Should I change the criteria to no widows?” “Well, just not new widows,” Harley said, feeling guilty. “Ugh, I didn’t think this would be so difficult.” “Harley, you don’t have to choose anyone, got it? We’re just testing the waters here.” “Keep reading,” she said glumly. “This one is just for fun. ‘Hi Jay, my name is Cindy. I’m a young looking, forty-two. I won Miss Atlantic City Body three years in a row back in the nineties. You might remember me; I wore a leopard, one-strap off the shoulder bathing suit that the judges loved. I’m currently divorced, the mother of a twenty-three year old son and a ten year old daughter. I’ve lived in south Jersey all my life. I live and work in Ventnor. Hope I hear from you! You’re real cute!’” “I hate to say it but Jason would probably love her,” Harley replied. “Except for the son, whom I don’t want around my girls, and the leopard bathing suit, she could have been a contender. Cross her off the list.” “It’s your turn,” Bea said, pushing the computer over. “Read on.” “‘Dear Jason, I’m Anna. I’m thirty-seven, a middle-school art teacher in Chadds Ford. My hobbies are fishing when I get a chance and playing cards and board games.’ She’s perfect so far. “‘I have two children, a six year old boy, and a twelve-year old girl with special needs. I hope you’ll get in touch.” “She sounds perfect, but I wonder what’s wrong with the daughter,” Bea said. The women sat side by side in silence, Harley trying to imagine a twelve-year-old girl in with her crew. “The boy would be friends for Michael,” she said, hopefully. “Ha! Well, trust me; a control freak like me knows what limits she can push. I don’t expect everything about the woman’s life to be perfect, but it has to mesh with that of my girls’. As selfish as it may sound.” “Okay, so answer her already,” Bea said, moving closer so she could see what Harley typed. Fishing, cards and board games are my hobbies, too. I have four girls. Can I ask what needs your daughter has? “That’s really good,” Bea replied. “Oh look! She’s answering!” Harley said, reading along as the words appeared.

“‘Jason thank you so much for responding. Where do you fish? What games do you like? My daughter has bipolar disorder. She goes to regular middle school, is active in sports and works during the summer at our church in the daycare nursery. Anything else I can tell you, just ask.’” “What do you think?” Bea asked softly. “I think I can’t think of this anymore today,” she answered. “I’m going to tell the truth and let her make the next move.” She sent off her narrative again. Suddenly weary, Harley looked off at the water. For late October, it was colder than usual. Most of the cottages were closed for the winter. She could hear hammering as someone in the distance attached plywood over windows. The gray sky touched the gray water, vast and threatening. She wouldn’t walk the beach today. A wave of heat rolled over her as the realization hit that this would be the last fall she’d ever have down at the shore. Gulping back a sob, sadness took hold dwelling on the no-mores; the last color change of leaves, the last fire in the fire pit, the last harvest of pumpkins. Last summer was the last one she’d spend with Jason and the girls down at the shore. This was it. Bea took her hand gently. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “It crept up really fast,” Harley said. “We didn’t even take a ride to the cider mill in the Poconos like we usually do in the fall. We’re missing the color change.” “It’s not too late,” Bea said. “You don’t have to go that far, either. There’s an apple orchard in Burlington County. Stop there on the way home, get cider and donuts. It’ll be beautiful.” Harley tried to wipe a tear off her cheek so Bea didn’t see. Sharing how brokenhearted she was wouldn’t help anyone. She was afraid if she let go, she’d never get it back again, would be in a state of depression until she died. “Okay, I’ll ask Jason to take me.” Jason was game, the girls not so much. “If you don’t mind, we’ll stay here for the few extra hours,” Angie said. “You and Dad should go ahead alone.” “That’s fine. I’ll ask Granny to bring you home then.” Harley was happy they weren’t worried about spending every second with her as they usually seemed to be. A normal weekend down the shore was more important.



As Jason pulled the car off the dirt driveway unto the road, Harley looked in the rearview mirror. “I wondered if this would be the last time I’ll see the cottage.” Jason kept his eyes on the road, but she could see him frowning, trying to keep his mouth neutral, but his eyebrows were down, a dead giveaway. “We can come back here whenever you want,” he said. “My dad isn’t going to shut the water off this year.” “I thought they had to be out November first,” she said. “This year is different. The owners are extending the use.” He didn’t say more, but Harley knew it was on her behalf. “Gosh, that’s so nice,” she said, putting her head back against the headrest. “I’d like to come here for Thanksgiving.” Jason took her hand. “Okay, Thanksgiving it is.” Jason’s responses to Harley over the past two years had morphed from the reasoning, impatient Jason to the agreeable Jason. The change was so subtle neither of them noticed it was happening. The reasoning Jason used to aggravate Harley something awful; if she had a complaint, Jason tried to figure out a better solution. “Please stop trying to solve all my problems for me,” she’d beg. “I just need to vent.” “What would the right response be?” he asked. “How about, Oh Harley, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. What can I do to help?” “That’s it?” “That’s it. If I complain about the prices of meat at the grocery store, you’ll look for a cheaper place to shop. I don’t need you to run interference for me all the time. I’m a big girl.” Finally, facing her death, Jason was able to make the change she’d asked him to make years before. “I’m sorry we didn’t go to the Poconos this year,” he said, driving. “We had too much to do this fall,” she answered. “It seemed like the girls had something every weekend. Now that Devon is in school, even she has sports with Tball. It’s insane. “Have you given any thought to how you’re going to keep up with all of their

activities? I mean, after I’m gone?” “I know what you mean,” he said, his tone not promising for a meaningful conversation. “Jason we need to iron out a few things so I can go to my grave in peace. I know you hate talking about it, but if you could just relax, I think it will help you in the long run.” “Look, Harley, I’ll deal with it. I won’t work as much, for one thing. I’m thinking of ways I can cut back on expenses. I spend too much money on stupid shit. I don’t need to buy every single thing I want.” “You’ll have my life insurance, too.” “Oh geez do we have to talk about that, too? You just barrel right in with this stuff.” Harley laughed and took his hand. “It’s supposed to give you some relief. That and Social Security. I’ve paid into it, so now the girls will get money every month. Don’t forget about that.” “I did forget. Thank you, honey,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Can we change the subject now that we have finances covered? I’ll go to the girls’ games, okay? No worries.” Harley couldn’t help herself; she sighed, a loud, long sigh. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.” “Me either, so let’s stop,” he said. “We’re supposed to be having fun at the orchard.” He pointed and up ahead was the sign, a jug of cider and a box of donuts ten feet across cut out of plywood. “Oh, poo, it’s raining,” Harley said as drops fell on the windshield. “No worries, you stay put and I’ll run in.” She didn’t argue with him, her bones aching from the weather. When he opened the car door, the wonderful aromas wafted in to her, increasing her disappointment that they weren’t going to walk around the mill, watch cider pressing, smell the fragrance that came from the wooden boxes of apples stacked everywhere. He’d taken her to a similar place when they were first dating. The memories were so vivid; she could even smell the layers of fallen leaves under foot as they tramped up the path to the cider mill. In minutes, he was back, running toward the car in a steadily falling rain with two one-gallon jugs of cider, a huge paper bag of donuts and a smaller bag of apples. He’d

remembered she loved Honey Crisp apples. “The donuts just came out of the fryer,” he said, chuckling. Harley didn’t need to worry about her weight anymore. In the past, she’d lament over every bite. “Let’s eat now,” she said. “I wish we had glasses for cider.” He reached into the bag and pulled out two plastic cups. “ESP! The lady shall have cider.” Holding the glasses for him, a moment of peace prevailed for Harley as Jason poured the cider, no thoughts of death or money worries, just fresh cider and hot donuts. “We needed this,” he said. “Such a simple thing.” “I agree,” she said. “Yum, this is so good.” She ate an entire donut and dug in the bag for another. “You have to eat them while they’re hot,” Jason said, stuffing a whole one in his mouth while Harley laughed at him. “And the cider has to be chilled. This is icy good.” Harley sipped the cider. “Gosh, this is delicious.” She looked over at Jason and he was gobbling another donut, being such a guy, as Bea would say. It made Harley happy he was behaving normally. “I feel normal for a change,” she said, putting her head back again. “Nothing can be wrong in a moment like this.” Jason burped. “You’ve got it, kid. Do you want anymore of this?” She shook her head, letting him wrap up the rest of the food and put it in the backseat but not before stuffing one more in his mouth. “We’ll have donuts for breakfast tomorrow,” she said. In minutes, as Jason pulled onto the turnpike toward home, she fell asleep.

Chapter 13 After the weekend at the shore, Harley felt better physically. Neither she nor Jason examined it closely, looking at it more as a respite than a gift. As life slowly returned to somewhat normal, it gave everyone a chance to regroup. She avoided talking to casual acquaintances who pressed her for more information than she was willing to give, asking well-meaning questions about her condition and the therapy she wasn’t getting and offering advice she didn’t want to hear and was never going to take. Leaving the word cancer out of her dialogue helped her regain a feeling of well-being. Cancer wasn’t ruling her. She was in charge of her life again and except for not returning to work, it was about as normal as could be. All the things she’d longed to do as a working mother, she was now free to participate in, from being the homeroom mother for Devon’s first grade class, to taking a yoga class with Tina, and attending every game Angie’s team played. Bennie was adamant about going to the local community college, even though they’d tried to get her to go to one of the big universities nearby. “This will be fine,” she said, seeing how disappointed her parents were. “I’ll transfer later. Right now I want to take it easy and be close to the family, if that’s alright.” “It’s fine, as long as you’re doing it for yourself,” Harley said, aware Bennie was doing it for her. “I have to admit I like seeing you everyday.” “Me, too,” she said, hugging Harley. Bennie offered to babysit every weekend, encouraging Harley and Jason to go out on dates. They went to one disappointing movie and gracefully declined after that. “I love being home with my girls,” she said, hugging them. “Movie night in the den eating pizza in my recliner, it doesn’t get better than that.” “No, it really doesn’t,” Jason said.

The family closely guarded the routine. Friday night was family night. They might chose to stay up all night playing games or cards, Bea and Dave often coming over to join in. As Thanksgiving approached one week away, Harley felt better than she had in months. “I almost wish I could go back to work,” she said. She sat on the edge of the bed, watching Jason dress for work Friday morning. He looked up at her, weighing his words. “It’s so nice having you here at home. I hate to admit I’m spoiled, not rushing around like we used to. Every night, dinner is special with you relaxed and happy instead of getting things done.” Harley laughed. “Yes, that’s what I used to do,” she said. “I don’t miss the tight ship, either.” She watched him combing his hair carefully, tucking the back of his shirt in his jeans. “You’ve lost weight,” she said, concerned. “Am I not feeding you enough?” He walked to her, bending down to kiss her. “I’m eating just fine. Go back to bed after the girls leave,” he said, moving toward the door. “I might,” she said. As they walked to the kitchen, she tapped on the older girls’ doors. Everyone but Devon needed to get up before six during the week. It was still pitch black out, the short winter days getting closer. Harley poured coffee into Jason’s travel mug. He didn’t take the time to hang around in the morning for coffee. She looked out the window over the sink; a stray snowflake drifted by. “I guess I’m lucky not to have to drive to the city in the snow,” she said, handing him his mug. “There you go. It’s the best reason in the world,” he said, giving her a peck on the cheek. “I’ll call you later.” He left out the mudroom door into the garage. Harley felt empty watching him go, things a little icy and unsettled between them. The previous week, she’d missed her old work cronies. After a doctor appointment, she took the elevator up to the eighth floor to visit. The lounge was empty except for one of the OR nurses who Harley didn’t know well. She was a younger woman who hadn’t been there very long before Harley left. “Hi, I’m Jaclyn,” she said, reaching across the table. “You’re Harley, right?” “Right,” Harley replied. “The OR must be short today to have so few in here on

break.” “Yeah, the schedule is crazy,” Jaclyn said. “How are you feeling? You look so much better than I expected.” “I’m great!” Harley said, maybe too jovially. Taken aback by the woman’s veiled criticism, she debated hanging around to wait for someone she knew from Recovery to come in or get out and avoid having more conversation. “Wow, that’s wonderful,” Jaclyn said, eyes wide, concerned. “Tiffany confided you were having a rough time. Being a friend of the family, she was worried about you.” A hot flash of epic proportions flooded over Harley. Anger, Jason’s betrayal, disgust at Tiffany; she didn’t know which was worse. Choosing her words carefully, she wanted to hear what else Tiffany was sharing with the world. “Aw, that’s so sweet of Tiffany to worry,” Harley replied, choking down the sarcasm. “I’m actually doing much better now that the chemo is over.” “It must be so difficult to worry about your daughters,” Jaclyn said. The hair went up on the back of Harley’s neck. Was Jaclyn a moron? “Did Tiffany say I was worried about the girls?” Harley asked in almost a whisper, her voice shaking in her throat. “I shouldn’t repeat what she told us,” Jaclyn said, finally wising up. “Don’t worry about that,” Harley said, encouraging her to continue. “Tiffany being a friend of the family and all, she probably has a lot of insight.” “Well I guess it’s normal to worry about what will happen to your family and all,” Jaclyn said, her face and neck now a bright shade of cherry red. “I have to get to another appointment,” Harley said, having heard enough. “Tell everyone I said hi.” She heard Jaclyn mumbling something after her as she fled the locker room. Were people really so ignorant? she thought. Why did all of this crap have to surface now, just when everything was going so well? She looked at her watch. It was after eleven. The sick feeling in her chest wasn’t going to go away until she confronted Jason. Getting out her phone, she sent him a quick text. I’m in the hospital after seeing the doctor. Are you free? Going to her car, she turned on the heat while she waited for his response. He

wouldn’t answer a text while a patient was on the table. In fifteen minutes, her phone rang. “I just took the patient to recovery. Where are you?” Taking a deep breath, Harley was determined not to start yelling at him. “I’m in my car in the parking lot,” she said. “What level and I’ll come out in a few minutes,” he said. She told him and said goodbye. Waiting for him, Harley decided she had to take a stand with Jason about Tiffany. Either that or come back to work to keep an eye on him. Looking up, she saw him striding toward her. He was so handsome, but she was concerned about that weight he’d lost, whether it was due to worry about her or because he was preparing to disrobe in front of another woman, she couldn’t be sure. He opened the passenger door and got in, clearly worried. Maybe Jaclyn had gotten to him. “Well this is a surprise,” he said, leaning over to kiss her. “Jason, I can’t worry every time I come into the lounge that I’m going to see you with Tiffany or hear that she’s spreading my personal business around. Why did you tell her something so intimate about me? That I’m worried about leaving my daughters? Are you kidding me?” Silent and embarrassed, Jason’s thoughts alternated between lashing out at her for dying, putting him in the position of having to seek out a confidant, and feeling horrible that he’d been caught. “I don’t know what to say to you. I’m sorry you’re angry.” “That’s so not what I want to hear. Stay away from Tiffany, Jason. If you care about me at all, stop talking to her about me. What, are you a horny teenager? Can’t you wait until I die to cozy up? Only a few more months! Then when I’m dead, you’ll be free to tell her all my intimate secrets.” Jason looked at her with his mouth open. Shocked, guilty, he didn’t say another word, got out of her car slamming the door after him and stamped back inside. Sighing, Harley put the car in reverse and left the parking garage, defeated. It looked to her like she was going to have to look the other way to keep peace in her family, allowing Jason to behave like a child. Loneliness washed over her, sadness that her husband seemed to have jumped ship. She guessed the stress of her dying was bringing the worst out in

everyone. Sister Melissa’s house was on the way home from the hospital. She’d make an unannounced stop. Melissa had her hands full and Harley tried to shield the worst of what was happening from her. But she needed her older sister. Two-year old Peyton and three-year-old Greg were hanging on to Melissa’s legs when she closed the door after letting Harley inside. “I came for tea and sympathy,” Harley said. Melissa nodded. “I’m going to put these boys down for a nap, so have a seat.” She disappeared with two boys in tow and when she came back, Harley was sitting at the kitchen table, looking down at her hands folded in front of her. “Mom’s on her way,” she said. “She just called. I told her to call your cell phone.” “Mom?” Harley asked, her heart sinking. “I’m not up to it.” “I think she knows,” Melissa said gently. “She’ll come here and when you are able you’ll see her. What’s going on?” Harley told her everything, about Tiffany latching on, Jason giving in to the need for her sympathy. Melissa put a cup of tea down in front of her, listening. “Everyone’s under so much stress, and then I go and put a bunch of expectations on him. Maybe if I wasn’t sick, he’d be having an affair by now.” “That doesn’t sound like Jason to me,” Melissa said. “Jason’s madly in love with you.” “Yeah, but I’ll be gone soon. Maybe he’s checking out a little early.” “Oh, I don’t think so,” Melissa said vehemently. “Unfortunately life keeps moving forward no matter what stumbling blocks we put in the way. It sounds like he’s getting a few innocent needs met outside of the house. Try to look at it that way.” “I will not!” Harley said, fuming. “He can wait for a few more months and then I’ll be dead and Jason and Tiffany can dance on my grave.” Melissa put her hand on Harley’s back, soothing her while she vented. “Try not to say that to Jason, if at all possible,” Melissa said, trying not to chuckle. “I’m sure he’ll feel guilty enough over confiding in the bimbo without you pointing it out to him.” “I think I just figured out a way to get him to agree to meet the women I’m finding on

the dating website. I’ll guilt him into it.” “Hey, if you think it’ll work, go for it,” Melissa said, frowning. “I don’t know, but it sounds a little weird to me. I could never do it.” “Finding someone to take my place is better than listening to that jackass Jaclyn repeating Tiffany’s concerns. I know I won’t be around to see it, but the thought of her touching my stuff and trying to influence my girls makes me sick.” “Easy for me to say, but don’t dwell on what will happen after you’re gone, Harl. You only have so much control in the here and now.” She patted her little sister’s back one more time before sitting down next to her. “You haven’t asked, but I’ll offer to be involved with the girls as much as Jason will allow,” Melissa said. “I promise you.” “Thank you, Melissa. He’ll allow, trust me. The last thing he’s going to want to do is take four girls school clothes shopping. I don’t know why I’m focusing on clothes. Clothes and health.” “I’ll be here if they need me,” Melissa said, her words comforting Harley. The sisters chatted for a while longer. “I want to leave before Mom gets here,” Harley said. “I’m sorry, that sounds so uncaring. I just can’t face her or anyone else right now. Let me resolve this issue with Jason after work and then we can get together.” “Okay, she’ll be here all weekend and you’ll have plenty of time to visit.” Harley hugged her goodbye and left without checking in on the boys. One of her sorrows was that she wasn’t going to know Melissa’s children. Aunt Harley would be a ghost to Peyton and Greg. She didn’t have much energy for little boys, but when they were close by, she took the time to get down on the floor and stack blocks or run trains around a track, anything to engage them, doing it more out of appeasing her own sadness. Going through the motions of buckling her seatbelt, adjusting the rearview mirror, starting the car, familiar, automatic but important, she thought of how careful she’d been most of her life to follow the rules. Her mother used to say raising Harley gave her a new respect for bending the rules because Harley never would. Everything done correctly, striving for perfection. It drove those around her crazy and for what purpose?

The sight of her house still brought her pleasure; the grey-taupe brick and stone reaching up to a peaked roof with several gables, the stamped concrete driveway she and Jason just had to have cost more than her sister’s row house in Northeast Philly. The faux barn-door garage doors that didn’t fool anyone, all trappings of a life they’d sacrificed for were now meaningless. If she could start all over again, would she be satisfied with a trailer parked in the woods somewhere, or a duplex in Pottstown? Why the need to impress? Were her girls happier here in the nice house than they would be somewhere else, modest and sensible? “Oh well, it’s too late!” she said, gathering her items to go inside. Good intentions aside, she suddenly was overcome with tiredness, and sadness. Checking her watch, it was almost one. The girls wouldn’t be home for two hours. She’d just lay down for a short nap and then have the energy to deal with Jason when he got home, and her mother later on.

Out of control, Jason acted from guilt when he slammed Harley’s car door returning to work without saying goodbye to her. Every move he made was calculated and at that moment, he lost it and gave in to fury. Didn’t she know how much he was doing to try to protect her? Accusing him of betraying her with Tiffany was so unfair. He didn’t think of Tiffany in those terms, didn’t desire her. But Tiffany did put a lot of energy into a relationship with Jason and at that time in his life, it helped to balance what was going on at home. They were like rats on a running wheel. He hated thinking of his marriage or life with Harley as a grind, knowing that if and when she died, he was going to suffer big time guilt over the way he had withdrawn. When he got home from work, convincing Harley nothing was going on between him and Tiffany was his motive for the evening, and Harley didn’t have the energy to fight him about it. “Harley, I might have said something stupid in passing, ‘My wife’s worried about what will happen to her girls,’ or something like that. I swear, I didn’t have a lengthy discussion with Tiffany or anyone else about you. Ask Andy, or ask Joan. She’s in the room with Tiffany often enough.” But Harley wouldn’t ask her friends if they’d heard her husband talking to Tiffany.

She met her friends from work for drinks that week and no one had said a word to her about Tiffany or Jason. Wondering what her marriage would be like if she hadn’t gotten sick, Harley supposed she would be learning to try to just let it go. Either that or they’d be fighting constantly. Not able to read Jason’s mind, it made her sad that there was a chasm growing between them and nothing she could do about it. So after he left to run errands the next morning with things between them still unresolved, she threw herself into mothering and matchmaking. It took the edge off her sadness about Jason’s selfishness, praying he’d snap out of it before it was too late. She kept thinking how much it would please Tiffany to know how one of the last Friday nights of Harley’s life was ruined because of her.

Chapter 14 The school bus was either overheated or freezing cold. Tina Jones was prepared with a dowel in her backpack. At the back of the bus, she could stand on the seat to reach the heat vent, flipping the lever to change the amount of heat coming out. “Jones, cut us a break, will you please? It’s freezing up here,” someone shouted. “Tina Jones if you touch that heat vent again I’m reporting you to the principal’s office,” the bus driver yelled. A group of students circled around to hide her as she crawled up the seat to adjust the vent out of view of the driver. Immediate sighs of relief resonated when the heat started to circulate in the back. Sitting in the corner with her backpack on her lap, she gazed out the window, watching the groups of students waiting on the sidewalk until the bus stopped, the cold air blasting in as they embarked. The sun was just starting to come up, a rim of yellow light on the horizon under gray-blue skies. The smell of apple pie baking filled the house that early morning. Thanksgiving was the following day. “Don’t forget that we’re leaving for the shore tonight as soon as Daddy gets home from work,” Harley reminded the girls as they filed out of the house. Tina couldn’t wait to have Thanksgiving at the shore. Granny Fran would set up a long table, stretching from the dining room into the living room of the cottage. Harley’s mother, Maryanne and sisters would be there with husbands and Aunt Melissa’s two children. On the ride to school, Tina stayed in what she acknowledged was a neutral mode; not at home where pain and sadness permeated every room, or at school, where concerns over GPA and keeping her First Chair in the orchestra consumed her. But most worries were inconsequential compared to the absolute terror she felt imagining what her life would be without Harley. Her sisters whispered at night about it, someone often crying, sniffing and nose blowing the giveaway, but Tina couldn’t join

in. Evidence of the future lurked on her mother’s body. Becoming an expert at evading Harley’s chest, her mother didn’t suspect the dread that going without her bra and rubbery prosthesis caused Tina. Harley was tiny, but the flattened area on her clothing where her right breast used to be was so obvious it was almost intentional. Tina knew she was being ridiculous while the others joked about it, spurred on by Harley’s own irreverent comments. At night while she blocked out her sister’s voices, she remembered summers at the shore when the girls would pile into the bathhouse with their mother. No one seemed uncomfortable with the nudity, but Tina took note of her mother’s body. The aunts and Granny Maryanne said Tina looked just like Harley did as a young girl. Peeking at Harley, Tina was pleased that she might look like that someday. Examining her own body in the mirror, she could see similarities. When Harley was pregnant with Devon, the girls were amazed at her growing belly that shifted and rolled with the baby’s movements. Stuffing a pillow under her pajama top, the others thought Tina was cute pretending to be pregnant. Now, with the reality of cancer, Tina’s fears included the possibility that she’d get breast cancer, too. Her hands crept up her midsection to her breasts regularly where she felt for lumps. Staring in the mirror for any of the signs listed in magazines and online, Tina became obsessed with her breasts and with living a healthy life. Anything that could remotely be associated with breast cancer was eliminated, from soda pop to high fat foods to her beloved Wawa cappuccino. Dairy products were too high in fat; another possible cause was a high fat diet. “I’m going to start eating vegan,” Tina told Harley one morning at breakfast. Poised with a pan of oatmeal ready to serve Harley looked from the pan to Tina. “Okay, but oatmeal is safe, isn’t it?” “Right, but no more milk,” Tina said. “What about pizza?” Harley asked, concerned. Pizza was a weekend mainstay. “They make it without cheese,” Tina said. “Just sauce and vegetables.” “How will you get your calcium and protein?” Harley asked. “From lots of beans,” Tina said. “Don’t worry, Mom.” The last seconds as the bus approached school were the final moments of peace Tina

would have that day until the ride home. The stress started as she walked to her locker and her almost boyfriend, Albie Schmidt joined her. “Hey girl, why didn’t you answer my text messages last night?” “My phone must be on the fritz,” she said, handing it off to him. “See if there are any text messages from anyone for the last week.” He took it and thumbed through her settings. “You’ve got everything shut off, Tina.” He pressed some keys and the tone rang out as it received multiple messages. “Oh, thanks,” she said, taking it back. “Is everything okay?” he asked, sincerely concerned. She’d been distracted more than usual lately and he was trying not to take it personally. “No, actually it’s not okay. Evidently, my mother is dying and they’ve decided not to tell us.” “Oh, that sucks,” Albie said, taking her hand. “I’m here for you, kid.” They had to get to homeroom in sixty seconds, not enough time to ask her more questions. “I just want to get through the day without messing up,” she said, distraught. “Hang in there. Take it moment by moment.” Tina looked up at him. Moment by moment. That would be easier than day-by-day. “Okay, I’ll try moment by moment,” she replied. “I like that idea.” Squeezing his hand, she turned to her homeroom and waved goodbye. “See you at lunch maybe?” He nodded, waiting for her to disappear into the classroom. Two years older than Tina, Albie was graduating with her sister, Angie in June. He was in love with Tina. Walking away from her classroom, leaving her was difficult. The ideal situation would be to grab her hand and run for the parking lot, get into his car and drive to the Penrose Diner, sit there and drink coffee, eat omelets and pancakes, solve the problems of the world. Disappointed, he’d be stuck in school all day because Tina wouldn’t skip school if her life depended on it and he didn’t want to leave her there alone. He walked off to his own homeroom class, trying to think of something they could do that might help her feel better about her life.



First period gym class, avoided like the plague by most teenaged girls, was Angie Jones favorite. Running for the volleyball, she was already sweating, the little makeup she used washed away, her hair turning into an impossible bouquet of curls, the ponytail whipping around her head. Angie looked just like Jason; tall, willowy, curly black hair, pale ivory complexion. One stray curl worked its way out of the ponytail holder and hung down her forehead. Gigantic blue eyes rimmed with black lashes, hidden by dark circles of despair. “She’d be so beautiful if she wasn’t trying so hard to be as ugly as possible,” a classmate whispered. “You’re just jealous.” “You have to admit she’s been looking pretty raggedy lately.” “I hear her mother is dying. I’m sure I’d look like hell, too if I was in her position.” Angie knew she was walking a fine line between obsessively working herself into a frenzy at school, and neglecting herself to the point of slovenliness. The night before, her mother hinted that she could use the bathroom in the master suite instead of waiting for the others to finish was an indication that it was becoming obvious. “I can wait,” she said. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’m not going to stop bathing.” She didn’t add, because I’m in a funk. It appeared to Harley that she already had, but biting her tongue, said nothing. Running back and forth across the court, Angie focused on the ball, forcing thoughts of anything else away. With Bennie at the community college during the day, she didn’t have her to bounce off thoughts. Tina was available in the same school now but she appeared ready to crack, and Angie didn’t want to foist her own misery on her. The family was a mess, yet no one was saying much to anyone else about it. They were becoming masters of mediocrity, focusing on the most mundane subjects. The topic the night before at dinner was about the best apples to use for apple pie. No one cared, but it was safe, it was even informative, Jason bringing his laptop over to research, and it kept them at the table talking. No one had jumped up from the table to run from the room crying in months. They were numb, trying to protect themselves and each other.

“Jones, throw the ball for god’s sake!” Angie realized she still had the volleyball in between her hands as she was running, so she threw it to the first teammate who appeared to want it, then kept running to the locker room.

Bennie fought to keep her eyes open, the overheated classroom smelling of old paste and sneakers nauseating, the droning monotone of the professor’s voice lulling her into somnolence. Giving up, she let her eyes close and her chin dropped to her chest, her curly red hair falling down around her shoulders like a veil. The worst that could happen would be a public admonishment, but she hardly cared, exhausted from lack of sleep. Whispered arguing between her mother and father kept her awake until after midnight, more out of curiosity than concern. Over the past two years, eavesdropped conversations were dotted with occasional laughter, more likely something akin to moaning that she finally recognized as her father crying. But last night, anger in her mother’s voice came through the walls, and Bennie surmised that it had to do with another woman when she heard she, her, and finally, Tiffany repeated numerous times. At breakfast, Harley appeared to be fine, smiling and cheerful, preparing piecrust, peeling apples in between preparing individual breakfasts like a short order cook, while the sisters came down to the kitchen. “You okay, Mom?” Bennie asked, longing to hint to her that their nighttime tete-a-tete wasn’t without a witness, hoping it would make them keep it down in the future. “Just fine, Bennie. How are you?” Harley leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. But Bennie wouldn’t say anything about it, not wanting to hurt or embarrass her mother. “I’m okay. What time are we leaving for Sea Isle?” she asked, the Jersey shore the bright spot in a sea of shit the family waded through yet again. “As soon as Daddy gets home from work,” Harley said. “I thought about us girls going ahead of him but maybe not.” She didn’t continue with an explanation why they were going to wait, but Bennie got it. They should be a family for as long as possible. “Okay, I’ll be home by one,” Bennie said. Now, agonizingly trying to stay awake for a most boring lecture, she decided to skip the rest of her classes for the morning. A chance to bake Thanksgiving pies with her

mother one last time seemed far more important than the History of Western Civilization. Turning the heat on in the car, she called Harley to let her know she was on her way home. “I’m cutting classes, Mom,” she said. “I feel like baking pies with you.” Harley only hesitated a second. “Okay, Bennie,” Harley said, her voice thick with emotion. “I was hoping you’d come home early.” Putting the car in reverse, she carefully maneuvered through the jam-packed parking lot. An occasional tear leaked out of her right eye, only the right, and journeyed down her cheek. Pulling out onto Delaware Avenue, she just happened to look up in time to see a familiar face; it was Angie in line to get on the bus. Laying on the horn, she drove as fast as possible to get there before she stepped on the bus. Hearing the horn, Angie looked up to see what the racket was all about. In spite of feeling awful, seeing Bennie, that bushel of red hair, Angie smiled. Stepping out of line on the bus, she ran to the car and threw the door open. “What are you doing?” she asked, getting in, pulling her book bag along. “I want to help Mom bake pies. I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I left,” Bennie said. “What about you? Why aren’t you in class?” “Same thing,” Angie said. “I want to leave school and stay with Mom. I know there’s something they’re not telling us.” “I’m thinking the same thing, but how can we question her without it making it worse?” Bennie said. “I can’t figure out a way.” Angie looked out the window at the scenery rushing by. “Let’s just ask Dad,” she said. “I’m going to call him. Pull over.” She dug through the backpack for her phone and hit send when she came to his number. He answered on the first ring. “Angie, what’s going on?” he asked in a low voice. “Dad, are you doing a case?” she asked, worried that she was interrupting him at a bad time. “No, not yet. I’m in between. Are you in school?” “No, Dad, I’m with Bennie. We both left school without knowing the other was leaving. I think that’s significant, don’t you? We’re worried about Mom. That something

is happening and you’re not telling us because you’re afraid it will upset us or something. But not knowing for sure is worse. Can’t you trust us?” “Of course we trust you,” Jason said, the defeat in his voice clear. “We’re trying to make things as normal as possible for you.” “Okay, well that’s wonderful, but whatever is going on is not normal and you can’t hide it any longer. Is Mom dying?” She could hear her father stifling a sob. Shaking her head, she looked at Bennie and mouthed he’s crying. She didn’t push him, knowing that he was at work and probably hiding in a room from his colleagues. “Dad, I’m sorry. You don’t need to say anything more.” Angie felt awful that she’d upset him, but she got confirmation of what she was afraid of. Their mother was dying. “We’ll talk tonight before we go to the shore,” he said. “Dad, we don’t need to talk, okay? You answered my question. We’re going home to help Mom bake pies. We don’t want to hold anything up for our trip.” “I’ll see you tonight then,” he answered, professional again, not waiting for her to answer before he hung up. Someone must have walked into the room. “Now that was a little odd. He just hung up on me.” “Tiffany probably walked into the room,” Bennie said, telling Angie about the arguing she’d heard the night before. “He wouldn’t dare,” Angie said, seething. “I hope not.” They drove the rest of the way home in silence.

Chapter 15 The morning dragged on, the hands of the wall clock barely moving. Tiffany walked into the room at the end of Jason’s call with Angie, wondering why he hadn’t come into the lounge after a delay in their case. “What’s going on Jay?” she called from the door. Jason hung up on Angie without saying goodbye. “I thought we’d have coffee together.” “I was talking to my daughter,” he snarled, turning the gases to the anesthesia machine off, not making eye contact. “Watch what you say to me when I’m on the phone. If she’d heard you, it would have been a real embarrassment.” “Jeesh,” she called out. “I didn’t say anything wrong.” “I don’t need my daughters wondering why I’m having coffee with another woman. Just watch it.” Tiffany was making demands on him he couldn’t deliver. He wasn’t going to have an affair with Tiffany, no matter what Harley thought. “Why so touchy?” she asked. “Look, Tiffany. I’m never going to be unfaithful to my wife,” he said, finally looking at her. “Maybe we need to cool the friendship. You seem to expect something from me I can’t provide.” “Whatever, dude,” she said. “You might be thinking a little highly of yourself.” “Maybe. Then lay off. If it doesn’t mean anything, stop making more out of it than it is.” She left the room in a huff. Five minutes later, another nurse, an older, easygoing woman named Tamera came in pushing a table of sterile wrapped instruments. “Jason we’re getting an emergency,” she said. “Are you in here now?” “Yep, you’re stuck with me,” she said. Sighing, Jason smiled at her. “Welcome, Tamera,” he said. Peace would reign the

rest of the day at work. When he arrived home at four that afternoon, the chaos he’d expected with pie baking was finished and in its place, a fancy pie carrier filled with pies sat on the kitchen the table. Packed suitcases waited in the mudroom with neatly arranged bags of groceries and a cooler, the beginnings of their Thanksgiving dinner. Harley swore she was going to outdo herself this year, and Jason could see the evidence. He just hoped she didn’t overdo to the point of making herself sick. “I’m home,” he called out, examining the pie carrier. “I want to sample this before we get on the road, however.” “Daddy’s home!” Devon yelled, running to him. He swooped her up in his arms. “Don’t touch the stuff on the table,” Harley called out. “We put a piece in the fridge for you.” Their kitchen was the proverbial heart of the house with signs of Harley and the girls everywhere. On the wall a small, wooden Daily Bread plaque hung, the size of a slice of bread that Harley’s friend, Harriet, had given her after a Bible study she taught for five straight years disbanded. Hand towels Angie wove at summer camp the year she was twelve hung from a small rack by the sink, there for decoration only. Jason didn’t like the clutter, and Harley had often said before breast cancer that when she died, she knew Jason would make a clean sweep of all her mementos. Leaning against the counter, taking the first bite of amazing apple pie, he shuddered thinking about it, the apples turning to mush in his mouth. Why did he ever make an issue over something of so little importance? Harley was the house; the contents would mean nothing to him if she died. When she died. “Hi, how’s it taste?” she said walking in, pulling a sweater down over an ironed shirt. She stretched up to kiss him. “It’s delicious,” he lied, sick to his stomach. “How many did you make?” “Six, three apple and two blueberry and a pumpkin. You know the girls came home, right? Angie told me she called you.” “Yes, I knew,” he said, looking around. “Harley, I’m sorry I gave you so much grief about your chachkas.” She laughed out loud. “No worries bud,” she replied. “Can you imagine how much there would be in here

if I didn’t cull once in a while? The stuff that’s here is what means something to us. Make sure it goes to the girls after I’m gone.” He wanted to lash out, to say you’re not going anywhere. But because time was so limited, he realized the things she said now were what would guide him after she was gone. “We should put their names on specific items they want or that you want them to have,” he said, voice in danger of giving away his grief. “Wow, that’s a great idea. I’ll start when we get back from the shore. I’m so excited about this weekend!” Loading up the car came next, the girls’ laughter contagious as they teased each other about the amount of belongings they were bringing for a four-day weekend, Jason joining in, taking ribbing good-naturedly. The only one who was pensive and quiet was Tina, but she was keeping a low profile so no one noticed at first, her nose buried in a book or perpetually busy, texting Albie. Everyone’s acting like there’s nothing wrong, she typed. My older sisters left school to help my mom bake pies today while I was miserable in school. It would be okay to call them on it, he answered. Ask why they didn’t include you. Jason pulled the car out of the garage. Silence passed through the car as they waited for the garage door to close before the chatter started again. “Why didn’t you ask me to come along this morning?” Tina asked when there was a lull. Angie turned to her, frowning. “You’d have come?” she asked. “Why, yes, I’d have come. I was miserable at school. It’s clear Mom and Dad are keeping something from us. Am I the only one who feels it?” Harley turned around in her seat to look at Devon, who wore headphones in order to listen to Frozen without driving the rest of the family nuts. She wasn’t going to be privy to their conversation. Jason had taken her hand in his, a tick in his jaw revealing his concern. “Tina, I’m sorry. You’re right; we’ve been keeping some information back for ourselves.” She smiled at her daughter, a striped stocking cap she’d knit pulled down to her eyebrows, large hoop earrings, colorful makeup; Tina’s appearance personified the

gypsy in her blood. The other girls gave in to depression and stress by barely maintaining their hygiene, while Tina, in spite of her angst, was just as careful about her toilette as ever, maybe more so. Having gotten everyone’s attention, Harley continued. “You know the last chemo didn’t help. The scans showed spots on my lungs. This is old news. Unfortunately, most people with those conditions in their body won’t live forever. So I’m expecting the best but preparing for the worst. I was going to tell you after the holidays.” “What are you saying, Mom?” Tina asked, voice shaking. “Are you dying?” “We’re all dying,” Jason said. “Dad, do you mind?” Angie said. “Right now, I’m doing much better than I thought I would,” Harley interrupted. “I have energy, I don’t feel sick. That’s positive, don’t you think?” She left out news about the annoying wound on her chest that refused to heal, knowing she would need more surgery that would require a skin graft. “Could you go along like this forever?” Harley looked straight ahead, at the cars as Jason pulled onto the interstate to get to the bridge to New Jersey. Traffic was horrendous, rush hour, the night before Thanksgiving. She supposed that if a miracle happened, she might go on forever, if they made it to the shore in one piece. “I hope so,” Harley said, gazing at her daughter again. “I’m counting on it.” Gratefully, the girls put their earbuds in and iPods on for the rest of the trip. Harley could hear Tina texting, probably with Albie. Albie hadn’t posed a problem, yet. Jason and Harley hoped he was going to go far away to college. Not that he wasn’t a nice boy, but he was too old for Tina, and too sophisticated. Jason’s phone rang and with his Bluetooth on, he chatted with Andy for the next twenty minutes, leaving Harley to her own thoughts, blocking out their annoying conversation. Several more candidates with promise had answered Jason’s profile on LoveMatch.com. After conferring with Bea, she’d narrowed the number down to two. Kathy from Sea Isle and Anna from Chadds Ford. She’d made the decision to invite Kathy and her five-year-old daughter, Laura for a

visit to the beach over Thanksgiving weekend. After Harley sent what she and Bea now referred to as her truthful paragraph about who was really behind Jason’s profile, Kathy answered right away.

Dear Kathy, This is Jason’s wife. I’m dying of cancer, have less than a year to live. I’m secretly looking for a wife and mother for my wonderful husband and four daughters. My husband doesn’t know I’m doing so. Are you up to the challenge? Harley

Dear Harley, I was shocked when I received your note, but after considering your request over the past week, what you are attempting seems completely reasonable. How devastating for you! And how unselfish and brave to think ahead. It is a little strange; I’ll admit I feel uncomfortable about it because I don’t see how your husband will receive the news that you’ve done this. But I guess it’s not my business yet. I’m in. Kathy

Harley decided that the first step would be to see if she could become friends with Kathy. Then if Kathy and Laura fit in with the family, she’d facilitate the introduction to Jason. She’d get to know Kathy by talking to her on the phone. The first time they talked, there was a connection, as Harley admired Kathy for the tough choices she’d made, sure she’d never be able to do the same thing. Kathy dealt with the frustration over not being able to find a teaching job within commuting distance to her mother’s house by continuing to take college classes toward her master’s degree. “Since I rarely date, I have a lot of time on my hands,” she said wryly. “You can only knit so many afghans.” “Why don’t you date?” Harley asked. . “Because of Laura, I’m careful. I went out with a man whose child had Downs, a younger boy, but I didn’t agree with his discipline methods and moved on quickly.”

“How was his different?” Harley asked, thinking she’d get some insight into the kind of parent Kathy was by asking. “I felt he was too permissive. He made excuses for his son and let him get away with behavior I would never stand for. I want Laura to make something of herself someday, to live independently. She might always need some support, but I plan for her to go to college, believe it or not,” Kathy said with pride. “She could read by the time she was four years old.” “I’m excited for her,” Harley said. “She has a wonderful advocate in you.” They didn’t speak for a moment, Harley realizing the sacrifices Kathy was making to ensure a good life for Laura. “Would you be willing to move to southeastern Pennsylvania?” Harley asked carefully. “If the guy was worth it, yes,” Kathy said. The women had spoken on the phone daily, sharing confidences, taking risks, when Harley made the invitation. “If you want to meet, come to Sea Isle on Black Friday. It’ll be relaxed; tons of people will be there so it won’t be like you are on display. The men will probably fish if the weather holds out, so Jason won’t be foisted upon you right away.” “How will you explain me?” Kathy asked. “Well, you’re my new friend. We met online, on a knitting site,” Harley said. It made sense; women were meeting to knit with strangers all the time now. She just never did before because she didn’t have the time when she worked. “Should I bring knitting?” “Yes, that would be perfect. I will, too,” Harley said. Their plan finalized, on Black Friday, Kathy and her daughter, Laura would visit the cottage. Jason finished his call to Andy, reaching for Harley’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Sorry about that. He’s having a rough time.” “Ha! What does that mean? He needs his tennis racket restrung?” Jason laughed. “Almost,” he answered. “His kid didn’t get into Penn.” “Give me a break, will you please?” Harley lost patience with Andy a week ago when he spent her office visit time bragging about his son’s scholarship offerings even

though they didn’t need the financial help. “Aw, Andy means well. He has entitlement big time is all.” Harley didn’t respond, having made a decision to see a different surgeon regarding the mastectomy scar that was slowly festering with a reoccurrence. No longer caring that her resentment was irrational, she wasn’t going to question her intuition any longer, telling her Andy Forman talked too much. Maybe she’d been blaming Jason for sharing her intimate thoughts and feelings when it was her surgeon all along. “I love you Jason,” she said, returning his squeeze. He smiled and brought her hand to his mouth, kissing it. “Love you, too,” he replied, letting go of her hand. Taking a deep breath, she looked out the window, the thick pines which lined the Garden State Parkway obscuring what lay beyond so it appeared they were driving down a black tunnel. The sandy shoulder along the road illuminated by the lights of the cars passing by was the only evidence the shore was close. Arriving at the cottage in time for dinner, the next hours passed in a flurry of activity as they settled in for the long weekend, Jason blocking all thoughts of cancer from his mind, the girls, all but innocent Devon hoping for a respite after hearing devastating news, and Harley, excited to soon meet a new friend.

Chapter 16 Instead of sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner with her family, Kathy Agin stood at a blackjack table on the boardwalk in Atlantic City, dealing cards. Excited and frightened about her meeting with Harley the next day, the idea that she might actually be meeting her future husband, too was inconceivable. During the phone conversations with Harley, she’d developed a true admiration for her that was developing into a friendship. Even if the husband didn’t pan out, Kathy knew she was in for heartbreak; making a new friend who only had a short time left on earth. “Agin, pay attention.” Kathy looked up; the pit boss was standing next to her with a stern look on his face. “The eye in the sky is bugging me, so I’m bugging you. Pull it together.” “Yes, sir,” she said, frowning. She’d received a warning before; any threat to her job was not a good thing. The day couldn’t get over fast enough. Focusing on her hand, making senseless small talk with the players in whom she had no interest, soon she was punching her time card. The trip home was quick. The smells of pumpkin pie spice greeted her at the door to her mother’s trailer, parked near the beach. “I’m home,” she called, and her little daughter Laura ran from the back of the house. “Mommy, we saved you dinner,” she said excitedly. “We had turkey! Uncle Bill got the wishbone out and said we can have it when it dries.” Kathy pulled her close, thinking of her competing with four other girls. She’d be the baby of the family, unless Jason and Kathy had a child together. Harley said her little Devon would soon be seven. Hopefully, if everything worked out, Devon and Laura would become friends. Shaking her head, the reality of anything developing out of this was remote, the desperate dream of a grieving woman. Determined not to start crying, Kathy walked to the kitchen.

“Something smells good,” she said. “Dinner was delicious,” Betsy Agin said. “I outdid myself this year if I do say so. I might have another bite with you.” Preparing plates stacked with goodness, the women sat across the small kitchen table from each other. “So, any more thoughts about your adventure tomorrow?” Betsy asked, trying not to live vicariously through her daughter. “I keep thinking how different it is now with the internet.” “I can’t think of anything else. It’s probably unrealistic to think a woman can find a mate for her husband.” “Oh, don’t be too sure about that. I just have a feeling about it. I’m sorry about the circumstances, though.” “Yes, me too. I really like her. I’ve never known anyone who was dying. It’s scary to think I might be around when it happens.” “How would that unfold?” Betsy asked, concerned. “Well, if our friendship develops, I’d want to be helpful during that time. I can’t even believe we’re talking about something so sad.” “Yes, sorry. Eat up! This stuffing is fabulous.”

***

Thanksgiving dinner at the Jones house long over, Harley’s sisters and Maryanne headed for home, while a football game on in the living room monopolized the TV. The men shouted for their team, while Bea sat in a recliner quilting, the older girls sprawled on the floor, rooting for the opposing team. It was not going to be pretty at the end of the game. Harley, Tina and Devon lay in bed, watching a Disney movie. Soon, Devon fell asleep. Harley took the opportunity to ask Tina about Albie. “Are you getting serious?” “We really aren’t, Mom,” Tina answered. “He’s kissed me, but that’s it. Anyway, I don’t feel ready to have an intense relationship with any guy, let alone Albie.”

Hiding her relief, Harley wanted her to continue talking about it, but she’d stopped, pensive. “You’ll know when it’s the right guy. I mean, you’ve already proven that.” “Mom, right now all I want is for you to get better,” she said, biting her lip. “I don’t even want to think about dating or guys. It’s meaningless.” Harley hid her smile, patting Tina’s hand. “You won’t always feel that way, I promise you. Someday you’ll meet the right man and want it to be as intense as it can be.” “Did you feel that way about Dad?” she asked. “Oh, my yes. It was intense. I saw him and I wanted to have his babies.” Tina burst out laughing. “Mom, is this something I need to hear?” “How much do you want to know about us?” Harley asked, watching her intently. “I guess all of it,” she said, understanding she might soon lose the chance to hear her mother’s side of their romance. Harley wanted her girls to know everything there was to know about her before she died, but maybe the story of how she and Jason got together was better saved for the journal. Harley decided to tell her about the journals she was writing for each girl. “Mom, that’s so nice of you. You can write down all your memories about Dad for me. But anything you want to tell me now I’ll listen, as long as it isn’t too personal.” “Okay, I promise to keep it clean,” Harley said, laughing. “So should I start now?” Tina nodded her head, watching her mother speak. It felt odd to think of her parents separate from the family; it was like hearing a story about strangers. “We met at work. I think that’s why not going to work has been so strange for me. It was part of my relationship with your dad. Anyway, he’d already worked there for a few years when I transferred to the recovery room. I’ll never forget the first time I saw him.” “Dad’s so handsome,” Tina said. “Everyone told me to check him out when he brought his patient in. I was standing at the bedside taking care of my patient when he came in. ‘Harley, there’s Jason.’ I looked up and just as I did, he looked at me, caught my eye and smiled.” The memory made Harley smile. “Later he told me everyone back in the OR told him to check me out. We were in the

break room having coffee later in the day and he asked me out. I was worried he was a player. You know, maybe he’d already dated everyone else. But the other nurses in recovery assured me that few of the nurses were single, and those that were pined away for him but he never asked them on a date.” “Where’d you go on your first date?” Tina asked. “We stayed in the city. There was a photography exhibit at a gallery in Chestnut Hill. We took the train up from Thirtieth Street Station. We both lived in town at the time, I lived right by the hospital with Aunt Melissa, and Dad lived by the art museum.” “Was it love at first sight?” Tina asked, giggling. “Almost,” Harley said. “I never thought of myself as attracting a real handsome guy, so that took some getting used to.” “Why? You’re gorgeous, Mom,” Tina said emphatically. “Do you think so?” Harley teased, rubbing her hand over her cap covered head. “Yes, I do. What kind of men did you date before Dad?” Harley could see her self-deprecating attitude was not good for Tina. She needed to lay off the Cinderella/Handsome Prince story about her first dates with Jason. Was it even true? Or had she conjured up the story to build his ego? “Just regular guys,” Harley answered. “I didn’t date that much. But I never went out with anyone as handsome as Jason. There aren’t that many around.” “No, there really isn’t,” Tina said, leaning against Harley. “I’m lucky to have such good looking parents. So how was the date?” “It was good. We took the train up to Chestnut Hill and walked around, it was early fall and there were a lot of tourists and sightseers. The fall is my favorite time of year and it was special being with him during that time. We went to the apple orchard for cider for our second date, and to flea markets in Lancaster. By Christmas, we knew we wanted to get married as soon as we could swing it. “Everyone at work came to our wedding. They felt responsible for introducing us,” Harley said. All of her friends were nurses from work. She could clear up the Tiffany question with a quick call to Joan, but pride held her back. Asking would reveal that she had doubts about Jason, and her loyalty to him wouldn’t allow that sort of slight. Talking

with Kathy Agin was already filling some of the void missing her work friends had left. “Do you miss going to work?” “No, I love being home,” Harley said emphatically. “But I miss my friends. We never saw each other that often outside of work because we’re all busy with our lives. It was nice seeing them everyday. That’s what I miss. I’m so happy I get to be home with you girls.” “Mom, we’re in school all day. It’s never been a problem for us having you work.” Harley hugged her. “Thank you, Tina. That means a lot. Working mothers always feel guilty,” she said. “By the way, I have new a friend coming to visit tomorrow. We’re going to knit together if you want to join us.” Tina was an avid knitter already. “Okay, we’ll see.” She scooted to the edge of the bed. “I’m going to see if that game is over yet. It’s time for a snack.” Getting out of bed, Harley covered Devon up, as the final touchdown sent the living room group into a frenzy, the perfect ending to Thanksgiving Day.

Black Friday morning, Harley woke up with a case of nerves. Meeting Kathy Agin and her daughter, Laura would make the plan of finding a wife and mother for her family real. She took as much time preparing as if she were going on a special date with Jason. Watching Jason dress out of the corner of her eye, she was relieved when he chose decent clothing for his fishing trip, not wanting him to look like a homeless man the first time Kathy met him. The older girls would look fine in their casual clothes. She dressed Devon spiffily, her hair in two pigtails, perfect socks and new sneakers. “You look just like a princess today!” Aware Devon might question Laura’s appearance if she was obviously different, Harley found the courage to ask Kathy about it and she put her fears to rest. “We have a rote narrative about Downs if anyone asks. Trust me, little Devon’s questions at age six are preferable to having to explain it to nosey adults.” Forcing breakfast down with Fran hovering at her back, it took all of Harley’s strength not to keep looking at the clock on the wall. Insisting she’d wash up from

breakfast, the task took the rest of the time before Kathy was due to arrive at ten. Finally, she heard the car on the gravel. Driving slowly on the shoulder of the parkway, Kathy came to the sign for the campground. Nerves getting the best of her, she’d considered calling Harley and canceling at the last minute. If she concentrated on meeting Harley to knit and not the ulterior reason, she calmed down. Coming to the end of the gravel path, she saw the trees Harley described, towering oaks, a huge willow, and pine trees surrounding a colonial blue-sided cottage, typical for these shore town campgrounds. It looked newer; Harley had said the family had the same spot for years, so it probably replaced a lineage of vacation trailers. Tarnished galvanized washtubs on either side of the driveway held small pine trees, such a welcoming touch. An autumn tableau greeted her as she pulled next to an SUV; on a wide covered porch, various sized pumpkins and gourds arranged with precision, large, colorful kale plants, and huge pots of chrysanthemums in yellow, white and magenta stacked on both sides of the steps made a beautiful display. A sign that a family with children resided there; a construction paper pilgrim and Indian, taped to the front door with a gaudy cardboard sign which spelled out Happy Thanksgiving. “Oh, here’s my friend, Kathy,” Harley said calmly observing from the window, as if her heart wasn’t ready to pop out of her chest. Bea came up beside her and they watched together. Surprised at Kathy’s fresh scrubbed look, Harley was pleased. Tall, slender and thankfully, flat-chested, Kathy Agin had long, thin pale straw colored hair pulled into a ponytail, a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose that gave her a youthful appearance, and not a smidgen of makeup. The little girl didn’t look anything like her mother, short and chubby; she had thick, curly black hair and olive skin. It was clear she was excited, stopping to look at the pumpkins, skipping alongside her mother to the door. Harley opened up to greet her before she had a chance to knock. “Kathy?” she asked, having to look up at her to make eye contact, suddenly selfconscious of her cap-covered bald head. “Yes! Harley?” she asked, stepping forward with her hand outstretched. Harley took

her hand and pumped it, relieved. “Come in! We’re ready to knit,” Harley said, stepping aside. “My little girl Devon is excited to meet you, Laura.” Little Laura, suddenly shy, smiled, but clung to Kathy’s hand. “She’s talked of nothing else but meeting Devon,” Kathy said. Hearing her name, Devon came out into the family room to meet the newcomers and immediately took Laura under her wing, not commenting on her distinctive eyes. “My Barbie dolls are here in the corner,” she said. “We can play if you want.” Laura followed Devon to the other side of the room where they would immerse themselves in make believe for the next two hours. “This is my sister-in-law, Bea,” Harley said introducing the women. “She’s joining the knitting group.” “I’ll quilt while you knit,” Bea replied. It felt strained and unnatural for a minute while Bea took Kathy and Laura’s coats and hung them up. Kathy launched right in, breaking the ice. “I brought my afghan. With the holiday I haven’t had much chance to work on it so this is good.” She pulled a beautiful lacy project out of her bag. “It’s all yarn overs and knit-two-togethers. You’ll see. What are you working on?” The women shared their projects while they settled into the family room on the large sofa. Harley put her feet up while she knit, the women making small talk, getting to know one another. It wasn’t a time to share intimacies because Fran was in and out of the room, checking on Harley and bringing refreshments to the women while keeping Michael out of Devon and Laura’s hair. Curiosity got the best of the older girls and soon they came out from their bedrooms to meet Kathy. Harley realized she was holding her breath as each of her daughters stepped forward to shake hands. Bea’s girls came, too and Harley was worried Kathy would lose track of who was who, becoming overwhelmed at the number of teen girls. “The brunettes are my girls,” Bea said, clarifying. “The red head, raven haired and blond are Harley and Jason’s.” “Okay, gotcha,” Kathy said, laughing. “That’ll make it easier to keep track of.” Time flew by and at noon, Kathy looked at her watch. “I better head back to my

mother’s house. I have to work tonight.” “Oh, I’m sorry you have to leave already,” Harley said. In a whisper, “I was hoping Jason would return from the fishing trip.” “Harl, I hear the truck,” Bea said, going to the window as Joe’s pickup truck towing the fishing boat pulled into the yard. “Yep, here they are, probably smelling like bait and fish.” Harley kept one eye on Kathy, watching her reaction. Her pale skin was flushed and she was trying not to fidget, wanting to jump up off the couch and run to the window to look out. The men’s voices got louder as they worked their way to the house. Excitement building, Kathy gripped the edge of the couch. Joe came through first, handsome and older; she assumed this was the dad. Then a shorter man, it must be the brother Dave, a character with wild curly hair, laughing at a joke Jason had told. Finally, Jason walked through the door. Harley just smiled. There he was, in all his fabulousness. Curious, he looked right at Kathy and smiled at her, confusing her for a moment. Had Harley told Jason she was going to visit? Or was he always so welcoming? She thought back through their conversations about Jason and Harley had said he was friendly but not outgoing. The situation awkward, of which Jason was unaware, Harley felt like she was going to pass out, anxiety intense. He’d made eye contact with Kathy and then turned to his wife, bending down to kiss her. “How’s my girl?” he asked. “I know, I smell like fish.” “Does that mean we’re having fish for dinner?” Bea asked. “It does. I need volunteers to clean,” Dave said, watching his brother kiss Harley, so hugging Bea. “You know I don’t do fish,” Bea said. “Jason, this is my knitting friend, Kathy,” Harley said at last. Jason reached over to take her hand. “Hi, knitting friend, Kathy. Nice to meet you. I hope this means some of that stash is going to get used up.” He blanched right away, paranoid about everything that came out of his mouth.

“Everyone’s getting an afghan for Christmas,” Harley answered, not offended at all. “You’d better work fast then,” he said. “Christmas is four weeks away.” “Don’t remind me,” Bea said, walking to the back of the house to enlist the girls for fish cleaning. “I clean fish,” Kathy said. “As a matter of fact, I used to work at Levy’s Fish Market.” “No way!” Dave exclaimed. “Well let’s go then.” “I might have to call in sick to work tonight,” Kathy said softly, winking at Harley. “Do you mind keeping an eye on Laura while I help out?” Harley smiled uncertainly, not sure that she wanted her to hang around all afternoon. Dave and Jason went back outside, followed by Kathy and the girls as Bea and Harley watched. “I don’t think I can handle this,” Harley said, sorry she’d ever started it. “Is she going to swoop in and take over?” “You don’t have to worry about her. She’s too homespun, with the plaid shirt and the jeans and cowboy boots,” Bea said objectionably. “Not Jason’s type.” “I expected someone more glamorous because she works at the casino,” Harley said. “I don’t see her with Jason at all,” Bea confessed, surprising Harley. “Why not? I’m already picturing their children.” “Forget it. And look, she’s focusing all of her attention on the girls and ignoring the men.” It was true, Kathy was showing Tina how to hold the fish from the tail, running the scaler down its length, then washing the fish off and handing it off to Dave to fillet. Observing the interaction between the stranger and her daughters, Harley reminded herself why she invited Kathy; she was trying to find a substitute mother for her girls. After twenty minutes, they came back inside, chattering happily. The girls said goodbye to Kathy, returning to their individual pursuits. “I better really leave this time,” Kathy said. “I smell like fish now.” The women laughed, Harley relieved again. “Come on, Laura. We need to get back to Gran’s house so I can get ready for work.” The next minutes were spent coaxing a very reluctant Laura to leave the splendor of

new dolls and a new friend, the women promising her she could come back again the next time the family was at Sea Isle. “We’ll talk again soon,” Harley said. “Goodbye, Laura. It was very nice to meet you.” Awkwardly, the women leaned in to hug. “Your girls are very cute,” Kathy said. “Thank you for having me.” Not wanting to drag out the goodbyes, Harley and Bea stayed inside and watched Kathy stop at the fish-cleaning table to speak briefly to the men, buckle Laura into her car seat, get in and drive away. Harley watched the car disappear past the other cottages with a strange mixture of relief and sadness. “So, how do you feel?” Bea asked, watching Harley closely. “It’s not as easy as you thought it was going to be, is it?” “No, it’s not. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t the right thing to do,” Harley said. “Let me ask you something. When I go, if they should hook up, would you be her friend? You both teach, you craft. She had more to say to you than she did to me.” “Harley, no one is ever going to take your place, I don’t care how much we have in common. But yes, if what you want to happen happens, I’ll make an effort on your behalf to befriend her.” Bea put her arm around Harley and they embraced. “Now you need to find out a sneaky way to see what Jason thought of her. He makes snap judgements about women if I remember correctly.” “I bet he says something about her during lunch,” Harley said. The sound of hot grease snapping as Joe slid fresh fish dredged in corn meal into the pan, fried to perfection along with french fries and Fran’s homemade coleslaw was a nice segue from the Thanksgiving turkey. Everyone crowded around the table and sat in their usual places, passing dishes of food around. The sound of cutlery hitting china, the spurt from Joe opening a can of beer, moans of appreciation were the only sounds they heard for several minutes. “Now how do you know Kathy?” Fran asked, breaking the silence for which Harley was grateful, starting the conversation easily. “I met her at one of the online knitting groups I joined since I’ve been at home.” “I liked her,” Bea said. “That afghan she’s making is beautiful.”

“She sure knows how to wield a filet knife,” Dave said. “Boys, we need to bring the boat motor home this weekend,” Joe said, changing the subject. “We won’t be putting ‘er in the water again this season.” The conversation swirled around Harley as the delicious, crispy fish turned to mush in her mouth. This season. Why was every word spoken by her family applicable to her? She saw Jason’s reaction to his own, innocent comment about her yarn stash, and then her not having much time to knit afghans for Christmas gifts. Was she becoming more self-absorbed as time moved forward? During Thanksgiving dinner the previous day, she was in turmoil, unable to get past the idea that it would probably be the last one she’d celebrate. Sitting at the beautifully decorated table thanks to Bea, Harley saw her daughters in ten years; Angie with a baby on her knee, Bennie pregnant with her second, Tina and an unknown person deep in conversation, Devon grown up, on her way to college soon. Who would oversee their progress? Would Jason be able to do it alone if he stayed single? Tiffany fought to put herself in the family photos of Harley’s thoughts, but she kept vanishing, a faceless Kathy Agin, as yet unseen, taking her place, motherly, doting, a perfect replacement mother. Interrupting the mirage, Bea leaned over. “You need to meet more than one candidate,” she whispered. Harley nodded, convinced that was the wise thing to do. “I know. Let’s keep looking after lunch.” “Are you okay? You didn’t eat much,” Bea asked, concerned as the others pushed away from the table, clearing their plates, Joe and his sons going out to clean up the boat and the girls back to their rooms. “I was just thinking this will be the last Thanksgiving weekend. It’s nothing I haven’t thought of a hundred times before, but I’m trying to make the most of it by focusing on the details. Of course, what difference will it make? I’ll be gone.” Fran noticed the food left on Harley’s plate. “How would you like a nice biscuit with jam and a cup of tea?” she asked, knowing Harley’s preference for sweets lately. “I’d love it, but you don’t have to make it for me. I’ll get it myself.” “I don’t think so,” Fran said, pointing to her to stay put. “You want some, too, dear?” “No thank you,” Bea said. “I’m stuffed. I feel like I’m going to sprout gills.”

Getting up from the table, Bea left the room to get her computer while Fran brought tea to Harley. She sat down, obviously nervous. “Are you okay, Granny?” Harley asked. “I need to say something to you, but I don’t know how to do it without bringing up bad thoughts,” she said, wringing her hands. “You seem to be doing so well that I don’t want to say anything to disrupt the peace.” “Fran, you can say whatever you need to. Trust me, the peaceful façade is just that. I’m not having a good time of it. Worried about missing out, I guess.” Taking Harley’s hand in hers, Fran took a deep breath to help keep her emotions in check. “I just wanted to tell you that Pop and I will help Jason out.” “Thank you, Fran,” Harley said, moved. “You always have. You know Jason will be okay financially, right? The other stuff concerns me. All the high school and college graduations, weddings and births.” The enormity of what she would be missing grew when it was spoken out loud. Sighing, she took a sip of tea to focus on something else. “We’ll be there for all of those events just like we are now,” Fran said. “I mean, I hope we will be. We’re no spring chickens. I’d rather it was me leaving early and not you.” “I hope you’ll be around for a long time,” Harley said. “Thank you for being such a wonderful mother-in-law. I can’t imagine my life without your help all these years. While my co-workers struggled with childcare, I had my mother-in-law to take over. You being there eliminated a huge stressor.” “I’m the lucky one. I gotta great relationship with my grans. Some of our friends don’t see their families more than once a year. I love it that the teens call me, too. Angie calls me at least once a day.” “Does she?” Harley asked. This was news that should have increased her sense of well-being, but instead, she felt worse, like her life was slipping away from her before she was even dead. “Did she always call you, or is it recent?” “More since Bennie graduated. I think she misses having Bennie at school to bounce things off during the day. She doesn’t want to upset Tina needlessly, so she calls me.” Although it hurt her that Angie was unable to come to Harley with her problems, she

understood why; she was the source of the problem. Gratefully, Bea returned with her computer. “I guess I’ll go find Joe and see what he’s up to,” Fran said, reaching for her coat. “Come on, girlfriend,” Bea said after Fran left for the outdoors. “Let’s get on the couch and compare notes.” After they got comfortable, Bea started to read. “Jason’s got four new candidates. I weeded through them; three had bathing suit photos, and that leaves one possibility. Do you want to read it yourself?” “No, you go ahead,” Harley said. “‘Jason, I’m Carmen. I’m twenty-six years old,’ I know that’s young but let me get through the rest before you say anything. ‘I live in Yardley with my nine-year-old son. I’m a nurse at a hospital in Philadelphia. My hobbies revolve around my son, obviously and when we have free time we like to hike, cross-country ski and camp.’” “She must have had the kid when she was seventeen,” Harley commented. “And made it through nursing school. She’s doing pretty well by herself.” “It wouldn’t leave much time to find a suitable date, I guess. No time for bar hopping or socializing, however they meet men nowadays. What do you think?” “She’s a little young, but I guess that’s okay,” Harley said. “I’m trying to figure out how I can assimilate her into the family. She’s too young to be my friend. I guess I can ask her if she knits.” “I’m not sure you can use that one again,” Bea said kindly. “Well, let me make the contact. She might not even want to be involved with our macabre scheme.” Bea slid the computer over to Harley so she could send her paragraph. “Now all we do is wait.” They wouldn’t hear back from Carmen. Handing the computer back, Harley’s misgivings reappeared. “I hope Jason doesn’t hate me when he finds out what I did.” “When do you think you’ll tell him?” Bea asked. “I have no idea. I guess when I’m sure about the woman we find. Who knows what will happen after I die. They could all come forward and torment him. I hope that doesn’t happen.” “All the more reason to only introduce someone you’re sure of to your family,” Bea

said. “I get the feeling you’re pretty sure about Kathy.” “Yes, I like Kathy a lot. I knew from the second time we talked when something clicked between us.” Harley’s phone buzzed. “It’s Kathy,” she said, looking at the number. “I’ll give you some privacy,” Bea said, taking her computer back to her room. “Hi, Kathy,” Harley said, answering. “I wondered if there was any conversation after I left,” Kathy said. “I hope I wasn’t too obvious.” “No, not at all,” Harley said. “I was a little worried for a second, but everything went well. What did you think?” “Everyone was very nice. I enjoyed meeting your girls and Laura loved playing with Devon. Did they mention me at all?” “My sister-in-law liked you very much, and her husband was impressed with your filleting skills.” The women laughed at that. “I guess I’m jumping the gun. I’m sorry,” Kathy said. “This might sound selfish, but try to focus on getting to know me,” Harley said. “I think then my family will sort of slide into the picture when the time comes. “I really like you,” Harley said. “I’m comfortable talking to you. I hope that means something to you.” “Oh, it does,” Kathy said emphatically. “I feel the same way about you.” “We’re only here until Sunday night. When you get time off, I’d like you to come to our home. Do you think you’re up for that?” “Yes, I would like to very much,” she said. “I’m off tomorrow if you want to get together.” “You’re off Saturday?” Harley asked, the wheels turning in her brain. “Yep. A reward for working Thanksgiving, I guess. Nothing like inviting myself over.” “No, really it’s fine. We usually play cards or board games on Saturday night. Devon would probably love to have Laura here again.” “Well, you know I love cards and board games,” Kathy said. “Let me talk to Jason, okay? He’s a little weird about family time.” It was difficult

for Harley to be forthcoming like she was being, but thought it was best for only honesty in this instance. “I understand. I’ll be disappointed if he says no,” Kathy said truthfully. Changing the subject, “How do you feel, by the way? I thought you looked nice this morning.” “Physically, I’m the same. Emotionally, I am coping. I wish it were different, that I could just say big deal, I’m not going to be around much longer. It won’t make any difference to me, only to my family.” Harley stopped, realizing she might have had a breakthrough. “Boy, thank you, Kathy. Talking to you has helped me get back on the right path. I need to stop worrying about what I am going to miss and make sure my family is experiencing as much of me as they can.” Suddenly lighthearted, Harley promised to ask Jason about inviting Kathy to Saturday night family night and said goodbye. Getting up off the couch, she thought a walk on the beach might be nice. Knocking on the girls’ door, they called for her come in. Bea was inside, sitting on the end of the bed looking at fashion magazines with her daughter, Sally. “Who wants to walk on the beach?” Everyone said yes, crawling off the bed. Leading the way, Harley stopped at the coat rack and handed coats off, bundling up in winter garb. “It’s supposed to rain this afternoon,” Bea said. “Let’s bring umbrellas.” The men and Fran looked up as the family walked off toward the water, little Michael running out ahead. Harley smiled to herself, happy she’d stepped out of her physical comfort zone. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to give into tiredness too soon. She’d make the effort to engage in as much activity as she could while they were at the beach. Exhaustion would take over soon enough. “Let’s go!” she called, waving her daughters over. “Whoever finds the first shell wins a prize.” “What will it be, Mom? The chance to wash the dishes tonight?” Angie called. “Nope, something special. Maybe a trip to the mall with my credit card,” Harley replied. It initiated a mad run on the beach, where shell seekers found mollusks only or rarely the egg cases of skates, which were a type of winged ray fish.

While the children scurried along, finding everything but shells, Bea and Harley walked, sharing secrets, death and dying wishes put aside for a while. “I always say you can plan your week around what you found buried in the sand the weekend before,” Harley announced. “Like what?” Bea asked. “Tell her about the Christmas ornament when I was ten,” Angie called. “I did! I found a red glass ball. Not intact of course, but enough to see what it was originally. We went to the mall when we got home and there was an amazing sale going on. It was the first and only time I got all my Christmas shopping done five months before Christmas.” “And I got the bike I wanted,” Angie said, running off to catch up with her sisters. “Search for something to save my marriage,” Bea said. Harley grabbed her arm. “What are you talking about?” “Dave is up to something, I’m afraid,” Bea confessed. Taken aback, Harley couldn’t believe it. “You’re imagining it. Dave would never be unfaithful.” “It’s just a feeling something’s not right, and when I mention it, he gets angry and won’t talk about it. I think that’s a sure sign.” “Should I ask Jason?” “He’d never betray Dave,” Bea replied. “I would. I mean, what do I have to lose? I need you two intact.” “Well, okay, if you think you can get anything out of him,” Bea answered, uncertainly. It was difficult to admit there was anything wrong with her marriage. Having the reputation of being a jovial good time guy, Dave’s friends often told him he was lucky to have landed a knockout like Bea, a great wife and mother, and a looker, too. Thankful that Harley hadn’t pressed for more details, Bea’s ego could hardly take the knowledge that Dave rejected her advances in the bedroom, too. It was more than just a feeling. That night, Jason came to Harley about retreating to their bedroom. “How much can you cram into one day?” he asked. “I need some down time.” Sitting on the end of the couch knitting on the afghan pattern Kathy had given her, everyone was in position, the children in sleeping bags on the floor or in bed reading,

Joe and Fran in their rooms, Dave and Bea staring at the television while an action movie blasted away. “Okay, I’ll be right in after I finish this row,” she said. When she was done, she folded up her project and stuffed it in the knitting bag. “Good night, you all,” she called out. “Nite, Mom,” the girls answered, turning back to the TV. Bea, with a sullen look put her hand up to the side of face and mouthed, “Don’t forget.” Harley nodded, sad for them. Marriage was difficult in the best of times. Jason was waiting for her, sitting on the edge of the bed with the remote in his hands. When she came through the door, he took her knitting bag from her and put it on the floor. “Come here,” he whispered. “I thought of you all day. Of your beautiful body, your long legs. When you walked by me this afternoon on the way to beach and waved to me, I wanted to grab you and drag you inside right then. I couldn’t because of the audience, but at least you know I’ve been waiting for hours to do this.” Charmed, Harley yielded to him, all her questions about Kathy and Dave would have to wait. Love was at hand, and she wasn’t going to pass it up for a second.

Chapter 17 Saturday morning a light rain fell, adding to the chilly, fall mood. Beach season was truly over. Harley didn’t want to leave. If only it could be summer again, with her children home all day and the laziness of it accessible to them all. Hoping she’d have the upcoming summer to enjoy, she ended the speculation, refusing to allow anything to mar the peace she had, in part due to her husband’s attention the night before, hoping they’d been discreet enough. He’d whispered to her, “This is just a matinee for what’s in store for you when we get home.” She didn’t have the heart to tell him she’d wished they could stay in Sea Isle forever. Needing coffee but not wanting to disturb Jason while he slept, she stayed in bed, remembering everything she could about the previous day. During their walk on the beach, little Devon found a razor clamshell; a long, curved single shell. “Devon wins!” Tina yelled, the others crowding around her, clapping. The experience had accomplished a miracle for her little girl who behaved like a princess all evening, never uttering a whine. Smiling, Harley wanted more memories for her littlest child, with positivity and happiness surrounding her. Harley’s illness hadn’t affected Devon, yet. The day Melissa shaved Harley’s head two years before intrigued Devon. “Where’s your hair, Mommy?” she’d asked, smoothing her hand over Harley’s head, looking this way and that. “Aunt Melissa used her clippers on it,” Harley said, Melissa holding the pair up for her to see. “Do you like it?” “I think so,” she said, staring at her. “You look like a movie star.” Harley smiled at her little daughter, so innocent, who probably watched too much TV. “I feel like a star.” Devon didn’t ask why Harley had shaved her head. Accompanying Harley to the first of the oncologist’s appointments at age four; doctors and ports and sickness had been

part of her life. But according to her teachers, Devon was a completely unaffected little girl who didn’t yet show any signs of worry or grief like they had expected. After the mastectomy, Devon climbed up onto Harley’s lap and held her, aware something was wrong, the bandages peeking out from her shirt. “Mommy has a boo boo,” she said, petting a triangle of gauze. “Yes, I do,” Harley replied, going slowly, taking her cues from Devon. “Are you hurt?” Devon asked. “I had an operation,” Harley explained. That seemed to satisfy her. That night, Bennie brought Devon’s Malibu Barbie to her parents, naked but with a bandage applied vertically across her chest, hiding one breast. “Well, I guess she gets it,” Bennie said. Jason and Harley roared with laughter, although later she’d think it wasn’t that funny. Nothing about the experience was humorous, although her sense of humor sustained Jason, and maybe even the girls. No special words were necessary now to acknowledge her surgical site. It was a mastectomy. With a reoccurrence there, the surgeon kept whittling away at her chest, finally taking skin from her thigh to graft when the area became too large to bring the ends of her flesh together. When that happened, she knew the end wasn’t far away, hoping for another summer, but thinking if she could make it through Christmas they’d be lucky. “Hey,” Jason said, his voice raspy with sleep. “You awake?” His hand smoothed her arm, long strokes that felt wonderful. “Yes, awake, in heaven lying here. I can hear the waves hitting the beach,” she answered, sitting up, taking his hand. “Do you want coffee? I’ll bring it back here because I’m not ready to face the masses yet.” “No, neither am I. Yes, coffee sounds good if you’re up to it.” She got out of bed naked, her arms across her chest, no point in rubbing it in, although she would let him see the unaffected side, as she referred to her remaining breast in her head. Slipping sweat pants and shirt on, she tiptoed past her children’s rooms. Snoring came through the doors of both of the adult rooms. Michael must still be asleep, she thought.

Staring out the window at the wind swept beach while she waited for coffee, a lone human walking with a dog braved the rain. The gray sky melted into the gray water, white foam surf hitting the beach. Making a vow to get up by sunrise every morning just to see that view, the promise of it renewed her faith. As long as she could fulfill one simple wish for herself, there was hope. Taking the coffee back to their room, she paused at the girls’ door and could hear Angie whispering to Devon. The older girls were coming through for her in so many ways, taking over instead of standing back and waiting to be told what they could do. Handing Jason his cup, she went back to the door and quietly closed it. Now would be the time to ask her questions about Kathy and Dave unless he brought something else up first. Best to get Kathy out of the way first. “Before I forget, would you mind if I invited Kathy Agin back for games tonight?” She watched Jason’s face, and couldn’t decipher what look it was, perhaps a combination of worry and dislike. “I guess it’s okay. We usually have just family on game night.” What he was thinking, but wouldn’t share was that he thought it might be the last family game night they had at the shore. Did she really want a stranger there? But he couldn’t say such a thing to Harley, it was too cruel. Ignoring his comment, Harley continued. “Okay, thanks. I’ll call her later. But first, I have to ask you a question and I’m swearing you to secrecy.” “What?” he asked, curious. “Is everything okay with your brother?” Jason’s set jaw gave him away. He knew what the trouble was and it was going to take a crowbar to get it out of him. “Did Bea say anything?” “She suspects it’s something really bad, like infidelity,” Harley admitted. “Has he talked to you?” “He has,” Jason said, reluctantly, betraying Dave’s confidence, but understanding Harley’s need to know. “If you say anything to Bea it will make it difficult for me with my brother.” “Oh no,” Harley groaned. “It’s that bad?” “Well, not yet, but it has the potential to be bad.”

Harley thought for a moment. “Don’t tell me, okay? I don’t want to know. But what I hope is that you’ll tell your brother to stop being a pig. I need him and Bea together now, for our daughters. He has to give up his selfishness and pull it together.” “I was going to say something like that to him but didn’t have the words without sounding selfish, like he needed to change because we needed him. It should be about being loyal to Bea.” “Make it about our girls, then. We need Bea, especially. She’s my best friend, Jason,” Harley said, her voice breaking. “Friend and family, all in one. I can’t have my girls exposed to any babes, and somehow I feel like whoever Dave would be involved with would be a babe.” “I can’t insist on anything,” Jason said. “He’s a grown man.” “But we have a crisis here and he’s acting like a spoiled child.” “You talk to him, Harley,” Jason said, gritting his teeth. “I don’t like that my brother’s problems are getting us into a fight.” Harley sat on his lap, kissing him. “We’re not fighting,” she said softly. “Okay? It’s not about us. We’re upset about Dave and Bea, that’s all. No fighting.” He moved her off his lap and stood up. “I need to pee. Be right back.” The movement in the big mirror over the dresser was as quick as a flash, but she didn’t miss it. Jason had slipped his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants. Suspicions rising, Harley couldn’t believe it. Addressing it instead of letting it fester, as soon as he came back she asked him about the phone. “I didn’t want to leave it here in case Tiffany decided to call,” he said abruptly. Harley was confused; he seemed so ready to tell her, doubts rose that he was using Tiffany as a smoke screen for something worse. “Is she apt to call?” Harley asked, trying to be calm. “Yes. I’ll give you my phone so you can see the length of the calls; I rarely answer it when her number pops up.” “Maybe you should let me talk to her,” Harley said. “Why does she call?” “I don’t know, because it amuses her, I guess. Harley lets not waste a second talking about Tiffany, either. She’s just a person I know, okay? I’m not in love with her; I don’t

want to sleep with her.” “Don’t have anything to do with her then,” Harley said. “If she’s so unimportant, why allow her to hurt me.” Jason gently took her by the upper arms and looked intently into her eyes. “Harley, I swear to you, I’m not having an affair with Tiffany.” “But I’m afraid when I die you will and I don’t want my daughters exposed to her. I’m beginning to sound like a broken record.” “Look, you’re upset because of Dave. I’ll talk to him, and I think you should, too.” “If I talk to him, he’ll know Bea spoke to me,” Harley said dismayed. “Bea shouldn’t have unloaded that crap on you,” Jason said, annoyed. “It was selfish and unnecessary. She should have come directly to me.” “We’ve argued in a circle,” Harley complained. “I’m so sick of selfish friggin men who have to have their ego stroked by bimbos while their wives wring their hands. Stop it!” Harley got up to leave the room, catching a glance of Jason watching her, eyes wide and mouth open. “Harley, don’t go away mad,” he said, grabbing for her. In the past, Jason would have let her go, thinking she was acting childish, or he’d get angry with her for nagging. But the awareness of the time clock ticking, he didn’t want anything to come between them for a second. “I’m not mad,” she said, pulling away. “I’m sure Tiffany would love to know that the last few moments we are spending in my favorite place on earth is being wasted talking about her.” “Is this really your favorite place on earth?” Jason asked. Frowning, Harley nodded. “Yes. You know that. I love it here, always have. We didn’t come because you didn’t want to, not because of me.” “There was always so much to do at home in the summer; the lawn, building the patio, the kids activities. I’d think about those things rather than relaxing while I was here. It was counterproductive,” Jason said. “I’m sorry.” “There is no need to be sorry,” Harley replied, exhausted. There was no resolution to any of it. “Let’s just enjoy what’s left of the weekend. I’m hopping in the shower.” After she gathered her clothes, Harley left Jason alone with his cellphone. When he

heard the water running in the shower, he dialed Tiffany’s number.

Leaning close to the mirror, Tiffany carefully lined her lips with a magenta lip pencil. Next, she picked up a cherry red, long-lasting lipstick, and filled in the lines. Bringing her lips together, she pouted for the mirror, happy with the effect. She was going to Sea Isle to see Jason. He’d finally called her first thing that morning after she’d left him umpteen messages. “I can’t stay long, just for a cup of coffee,” he said. “Are you sure you want to drive two hours for that?” “Yes, I’m sure,” she answered. “It’ll be fun to get out of town.” “Okay, I’ll see you at one,” he said. “Drive carefully.” In that desperate stage of an imaginary relationship where the most minor, baseless comment is misconstrued into a declaration of love, Tiffany smiled at the phone after saying goodbye. She chose her outfit with care; new jeans, a black knit, long sleeved shirt, boots. Underneath, brand new panties and a push up bra from Victoria Secret. Once she was sitting across from Jason, she was going to try to get him to walk on the beach and if they could find a secluded enough spot, she might let him have a glimpse. But it wasn’t to be. Harley walked out of the bathroom just as he was combing his hair, their older daughters tapping at the bedroom door. “What’s up?” he asked the girls, shoving his wallet into his jeans pocket. “You look nice,” Harley said, concerned. “Where are you headed?” “I thought I’d go into town and get a couple of dozen donuts before they’re sold out.” “OMG, Dad! We were just going to ask you if we could take the car for the same reason,” Angie said. “Come on,” Jason replied, relieved. “I’ll drive.” He moved fast, texting Tiffany, warning her he had a change of plans and she shouldn’t take the trip, thinking it was ridiculous she insisted on driving for two hours for a fifteen-minute meeting anyway. “Do you want anything else while I’m out?” he asked Harley. “I’d kill for a bear claw,” she said. “And a large Wawa cappuccino.” He leaned in for the kiss. “You got it, babe.”

The girls roared laughing. “Dad, that is so corny!” Bennie said. “I think it’s sweet,” Tina added, the conversation she’d had with her mother about how much in love her parents were still fresh in her mind. “Daddy loves Mommy,” Devon called out. “Yes, I do,” Jason resounded, grabbing Harley and dipping her, her laughter ringing out beautifully as their daughters looked on with admiration. “You’re insane, Dad,” Angie said, smiling.

Chapter 18 While Jason and Harley displayed their affection to each other with their girls as witnesses, Bea and Dave sat on the edge of the bed with Bea trying to convince Dave they should stay married. “David, I feel like you’re just going through a rough time. We can weather this together,” Bea pleaded. After a little probing, he’d finally admitted there was a woman at his job to whom he was attracted, seemingly proud that she was attracted to him, too. “Nothing’s happened. I mean, you know where I am every second of the day. Even if I wanted to have an affair I don’t have the time.” “Is it anyone I know?” Bea asked, shocked, any kind of disloyalty from Dave unthinkable until now. “Yes, you know her,” he answered reluctantly. “Well, who is it?” Bea pressed, eyes wide open. “Candace Baker,” he said, with a self-satisfied smirk. Bea was mortified. Candace Baker, ten years older than Dave, was the office bimbo with bleached blond hair, too much makeup and an enormous amount of cleavage. “Is she a reason to leave your family?” she’d asked incredulous. “We have fun,” he said, indignant. “Candace makes me laugh. Besides that, she’s just a friend.” “If she’s just a friend, why do you want to break up? I mean, I have male friends at work I eat lunch with occasionally. It doesn’t mean I want to divorce you so I can hop into bed with one of them.” “It’s not that,” he said, getting from the bed, going to the window to look out, rain continuing to fall. “I’m sick and tired of never doing anything right. I work like a dog and feel like I’m

on a hamster wheel.” “We all feel that way,” Bea said softly. Her validation didn’t help. “I want to move out for a while just to try it,” he said. “We can stay married or make it a legal separation. I don’t care which, whatever makes you comfortable.” “I want to stay married Dave,” Bea said. “I don’t want you to move out, either. It will destroy the girls. With what’s happening to Harley right now, if you moved out it would be devastating.” “Now there you go. Harley!” he shouted. “The universe does not revolve around Harley because she’s got cancer. If you only knew how sick and tired I am of every decision we make determined by how it will affect Harley.” Shocked, Bea bit her tongue. What could she say to that? It was somewhat true; the past year revolved around Harley’s treatments and wishes. Spending Thanksgiving weekend with the whole family at the shore was one example. But it seemed childish and selfish of him to want to end his marriage because he was feeling put out. What was the deeper problem? “If it will help, the next time we’re asked to change plans we can refuse. I’m sorry if I have put her first.” Turning back to the window, Dave frowned, the rain and gray sky a foreboding indication of winter to come. “That dating service thing really got to me,” he said, turning to Bea. “It’s the bright spot in a sea of crap. My brother loses his wife but gets a slew of new women to bang.” “Oh my God, you’re jealous because your brother’s wife is dying? I’m sorry it’s not me Dave, so you’d be free to screw around. But listen. Don’t wait for me to die. Go for it. I’m not sure I want a little boy for a husband anyway.” “Pack up your stuff,” Dave said, rebuffed. “We’re going home.” “Go,” Bea answered. “I’m staying here with the kids.” “What am I supposed to say to my parents?” “That’s your problem,” Bea said, exasperated. “Tell them you want to get a divorce so you can be free to flirt with the office clown. That should do wonders for your climb up the corporate ladder, by the way.”

Dave plunked down on the bed again, dropping his head in his hands. She was spot on, again. Bea was always right. He knew he could trust her, but every fiber of his being was fighting it, feeling entrapped, longing for the freedom he once had. Watching his brother and his wife go through hell was not helping matters, fueling his hysteria about confronting a wasted life before it was too late. Patting the spot next to him, he knew they were in dire need of damage control. “I’m sorry, Beasy. Sit down.” She was almost at the place a wife gets to when the only thing that will make her feel better is to attack her husband, actually looking around the room for something to throw at him. His gentle words defused her anger and she moved next to him in defiance to it. I will not be ruled by my emotions, she thought. “What?” she said, at wit’s end. Dave put his arm around her shoulder. “This is so stupid,” he said. “Candace Baker is a clown, like you said. She’s amusing.” “She’s a cow,” Bea said haughtily. “I’m sorry,” Dave said, leaning in to kiss his wife. “I’m feeling sorry for myself. Everything is turning to shit.” Exasperated, Bea turned to him and took his hands. “We have a great life, Dave. You have a good job that you’re good at, that you love. I’ve never heard you complain about work once and suddenly you’re miserable. I love you, your kids love you, we have a wonderful home you’ve put your heart and soul into. The only dark spot is that I’m about to lose my best friend, someone I’ve loved since I was a little girl.” “I know all that,” he said half-heartedly. “Sorry I’m being such a baby.” Bea didn’t know what to say. He was being a big, selfish baby. But she had to refocus, the emphasis on making Dave feel better about himself. Had this entire fiasco started when he found the online dating site they’d posted for Jason on her computer? “You realize that Jason knows nothing about the online dating, don’t you? Harley’s doing it so she can go to her grave in peace.” “I know that,” he said glumly. “You didn’t tell him already, did you?” she grabbed his arm. “No! What do you take me for?” But it was a lie, one he’d try to keep from her for as

long as possible. Sighing, Bea got up. “I better go make sure Michael isn’t terrorizing the girls,” she said, leaving the room. The house was quiet, no sign of the children, Harley sitting alone at the kitchen table, looking out over the water. “Morning,” she said, looking up. “A gray day for a gray mood.” “Where are my kids?” “Jason took everyone into town,” Harley said. “Getting donuts the excuse.” Already forgetting that she’d talked to Jason about Dave, Harley was determined to find a way to pull herself out of the doldrums. “That was nice of him,” Bea said, pouring coffee. She looked over her shoulder to make sure Dave was still in their room. “So I confronted Dave,” she whispered. “He’s flirting with Candace Baker, that tramp I told you about who wore glitter eyeshadow to Michael’s baby shower.” “No way,” Harley said. “She’s older than Fran.” Bea burst out laughing. “Well, not quite, but she’s older for sure. I’m going to tell him to flirt away if it will make him happy.” “Are you sure it’s safe?” Harley asked, remembering what Jason said about how nothing had happened yet. “Not really. He actually already brought up a legal separation,” Bea said. “No!” Harley clenched her fists on the table. “I need him to pull it together. I know this sounds selfish but I need you both, Bea. I need you especially for the girls. Should I talk to him?” “Not yet,” Bea replied, feeling terrible that her minor marital issue was such a huge deal for Harley. “Let me work on him a little bit. I think he’s feeling taken for granted.” Harley didn’t know what to say. The brothers were acting like children when she needed them to be tough. If Dave fell apart, wouldn’t it have a terrible effect on Jason? “Look, let’s change the subject,” Bea whispered. “A slew of new prospects showed up last night.” “Oh how exciting! When can we look?” “We can do it now, before Jason and the girls get back,” Bea said, grabbing her computer off the counter.

“By the way, I’m asking Kathy to come tonight for game night.” “Oh perfect,” Bea said. “That will really give everyone a chance to see if we can stand her.” Harley prayed that Kathy was a good enough human being to be a substitute mother for her girls. The first anger she felt about her situation in a while spiked. Instead of spending time getting to know a new person who might end up being completely wrong for her family, she should be concentrating on each individual person. “What’s wrong, Harley?” Bea asked. Watching Harley go through a range of emotions just then, Bea was at her side in seconds. Taking a deep breath, Harley dismissed her response. “Ignore me,” she said adamantly. “I’m feeling sorry for myself.” “Okay,” Bea replied. “But a little self-pity is in order.” “Nope, I disagree. It’s too difficult to pull myself out of the hole if I allow depression in. Anger, too. Kathy isn’t a trophy for Jason. She’s someone who might make my girls’ transition into womanhood easier when I’m gone.” The blood draining from her face, Bea felt faint. It was clear Harley had overheard Dave’s selfish outburst earlier. Choosing to ignore what he’d done, Bea would aim her focus on Harley. “It’s a brave thing you’re doing, Harley. A noble thing. There aren’t many women who would take the time or put the energy into finding someone to…” She couldn’t bring herself to say take your place. “Anyway, look at this profile! Before you get stuck on Kathy Agin, you need to read this lady’s story.” Bea pushed the computer across the table. “‘Hi Jason!’” Harley read. “‘I’m a thirty-two year old registered nurse.’ Nurses are showing up in abundance on this site. ‘I have a twelve-year old daughter, Rebecca. At the present time, I live in Manyunk, but the commute to my job in town is grueling, so I’m looking to move to the Art Museum area.’ Manyunk is about five miles from the art museum. That doesn’t make much sense.” “Maybe she works farther downtown, like at Saint Agnes,” Bea suggested. “Anyway, she works in the city. I wonder where?” “I’ll ask,” Harley said.

“Read the rest of her profile first,” Bea said. “You’ll want to know if she skates in the roller derby for fun.” Harley chuckled. “Right, I’ll keep reading. ‘I love the shore and try to go every weekend when the weather is nice. My ex teaches school so Rebecca stays by him in Wilmington during the summer.’ So she’s free in the summer. It would be nice for my kids not to have to deal with another kid when they’re not in school. Unless they grow to love her, then it might be a problem.” “Is that all she says?” “No. ‘I enjoy watching old movies, playing cards with friends and reading.’ That’s benign enough. ‘I’m in good health, exercise regularly and am careful about the food I buy for my daughter and myself.’ Ugh. I’ll ask if she’s a vegetarian.” “What’s her name?” “She’s signed it Felicia.” Typing a reply, Harley put herself in Jason mode again. Bea looked at the clock. “Hurry up,” she said. “Read me what you’re sending.” “Dear Felicia, I work in the city, as well. We have many similarities; I have four daughters from seven years of age to college. Rebecca fits right in there. What’s your nursing specialty? Are you a vegetarian?” “You’re answering as Jason,” Bea said, frowning. “Until I establish a few things, I don’t want to reveal too much. What if she works in our hospital?” “That’s true.” “Oh wow, she’s answering me already.” Harley read silently, her lips moving before she read out loud. “‘I work in the surgical ICU at Center City Medical. And I’m not a vegetarian, but I do try to buy local and organic.’” Harley stared into space. “Now that’s a coincidence,” Bea said. “How many Jasons work at your hospital?” “I don’t know. We’re so isolated back in the OR.” The sound of the car pulling up ended the conversation. Bea got up from the table to grab her computer and shut the top before Jason and the girls came inside. “You better pull it together, Harley. You look like you saw a ghost.” “I’m going through the nurses who work in the unit. I take patients up there every day,

maybe hourly. I’ve got to know who she is.” “Maybe Felicia is a pseudonym.” “Wait, I think I know who she is!” “Who? Hurry up, your driving me crazy,” Bea said. “Forget it! Oh my god I have to be more careful about replying. Thankfully, I didn’t tell her my sob story. She’s the biggest gossip at Center City.” “So she’s not in the running, I take it,” Bea said, trying not to laugh. “No way in hell,” Harley hissed. “Kathy’s looking better and better.” “We’re back,” Bennie called, ending the conversation about Felicia. “And do we have the goods.” Jason brought up the rear, the girls laughter surrounding them like a cloud of glitter. “And cappuccino for my wife.” “And apple strudel,” Devon shouted. “I get some, too.” The activity swarmed around the island, bags of pastry, boxes of donuts, a cardboard tray of the biggest coffee cups, at least twenty-four ouncers. Jason lifted one out and handed it to Harley. “No one will nap this afternoon.” It was the best day yet at the shore. When evening rolled around, the games came out. Disappointed, Harley watched Jason and Kathy carefully, but there was nothing to see, no chemistry evident between them and it made her sad. Kathy wasn’t there as a perspective mate, and she wasn’t putting any vibes out, either. But she and Harley were truly becoming friends. “I’ll miss you when you go back home,” Kathy said. “And I know Laura will miss Devon. She’s all she talks about.” “We’ll make a point of getting together soon,” Harley replied. Sunday flew by, the girls gathering their belongings, Fran and Bea cleaning out the kitchen one last time, the men packing up the cars for home. Harley sat in the recliner, watching the activity swirling around her, feeling detached and useless, but too tired to participate. It would be the last time they’d visit until Christmas, Harley trying not to dwell on the words last time.

Chapter 19 The weekend ended up being a wash for Tiffany, who’d counted on seeing Jason on Saturday, refusing invitations to go out with her girlfriends and an admirer, another nurse from a different unit. Half way to Sea Isle when he texted her of his change of plans she started to cry. Leaving her with nothing to do now, her anger grew when he didn’t reply to her texts for the rest of the weekend. By Monday morning, she was seething, but Jason, one up on her, was taking a weeklong emergency leave to be with Harley. The confrontation after he stood her up would never take place. “Why aren’t you getting up?” Harley asked, coming out of the bathroom. Tina had an early morning orchestra practice and would need a ride into school. Harley looked forward to being with her, they’d leave with time to spare so a stop off at Wawa was in order, Tina’s veganism a distant memory. Yawning, Jason rolled over. “I’m staying home this week. Surprise!” Harley went to his side of the bed and frowned, looking down at him. “Since when?” “Since last night. I called Adam Steinberg and he said it was fine; he’d get a per diem from another facility. So you’re stuck with me all week.” Harley plastered a smile on her face; she’d already contacted Anna about getting together for coffee. Now she’d have to explain to Jason where she was heading each time she left the house. “Wow, how exciting! Should we plan something or do you just want to hang out?” Putting her hands behind her back, she crossed her fingers, hoping he had an agenda. “Actually, I do have something to do.” He sat up, rubbing his face. Harley turned her head so he couldn’t see the smile on her face, watching him go through his morning routine of itching, coughing, rubbing his eyes, all predictable and all in perfect order. “I’m going to finish the basement this week,” he said. The basement was an icon for

their do-it-yourself mistakes. All the supplies purchased, arranged in piles in Jason’s obsessive way, awaiting the time and patience to finish. Harley stopped venturing down to the basement, and when she did, averting her eyes helped stop the exasperation. “I told Jason it was a bad idea,” Harley whispered to Bea when he first made the plans. But it looked like he was motivated again, and she liked it. “Well that is very hopeful,” Harley said, excited. “I like the idea of the girls having a nice space to play.” “That’s the idea,” Jason replied. “My dad’s heading over by nine and Dave will be here after work.” Unspoken motivation drove Jason. The abandoned basement supplied a rare source of conflict between Harley and Jason; by getting the work done it would finally be a non-issue. Harley’s happiness was important to him, too. Wanting their girls to have a safe haven when the end was near for Harley, Jason hoped she could stay at home to die. With four daughters, even in their spacious home, personal space was at a premium. The finished basement would add fifteen hundred square feet of space for people to hide when the pain of what was going on upstairs became too much. Making the excuse that she was going to be out running a few vague errands, Harley would have her coffee date with Anna. Their conversations had been limited to text messages and emails because of conflicting schedules, but Anna had the Monday after Thanksgiving off. They lived fifteen miles from each other. Although Anna offered to drive the distance to make it easier on Harley, Harley was looking forward to an adventure, so they arranged to meet at an inn that was about half way for both women. The inn was quaint, off a gravel road which wound around a revolutionary war battlefield dotted with headstones. Built of gray stone, black shutters adorned the windows. Coming closer to the inn, Harley’s heart sank; they’d decorated for Christmas already and she knew it would be emotional for her. Electric candles shined through the glum of the day, pine roping secured with red velvet ribbon encircled the porch railing. The beauty of it, quintessential Philadelphia, brought tears to her eyes. “It’s after Thanksgiving. Pull it together, girlfriend,” she uttered. “You’re making memories with Jason’s possible wife.”

Peeking in the rearview mirror, she was satisfied that nothing more could be done for her appearance. “I’m a sick woman. What do you expect?” Makeup tended to sit on the surface of her skin like paint, so she applied only lip-gloss and eyeliner, just a small amount of eyebrow pencil. The pallor of her skin was like a death mask. Pulling her collar up as far as it would go and her stocking cap, knitted by Tina, down to her painted on eyebrows, she decided it was as good as it got. Harley scanned the few cars in the parking lot, but she’d forgotten to ask Anna what she drove. A voice called her name and she turned as a woman about her age walked toward her. “It’s me, Anna,” she said smiling, reaching her with an outstretched hand. Harley couldn’t remember if she’d smiled back or not, feeling overwhelmed, sad, regretful, jealous and silly, all at the same time. This woman was beautiful, the female equivalent of Jason, with clear pale skin made rosy by the cold and long, black hair. Her eyes were deep blue and rimmed with long black lashes. Mistaking Harley’s ambivalence for something else, she reached out for her. “Why don’t you come inside?” she said, concerned. “We can order you something hot to drink.” “I’m sorry, Anna,” Harley said. “I just need to regroup.” Anna held out her arm to lead the way. Harley gave up and followed her. She drove all this way, might as well see it through to the end. If she didn’t pull herself together, Anna would be the one to flee. “This must be so difficult for you,” Anna said with compassion. “Yes, well I should’ve known,” Harley said. “Am I the first woman you’ve met with?” Anna asked. Harley shook her head. “No, there’s been one other,” she answered. But Harley knew after seeing Anna, hearing her voice, that left up to Jason, he would probably choose Anna. “I’m sitting here,” she said, leading Harley to a booth in front of the shop. They could look out at the woods, the bare tree branches blowing, clouds scuttling by in the gray sky. Harley slid into the booth, glancing at Anna as she removed her coat, her heart

sinking further with each revelation about her appearance, adding voluptuous to the list. Fighting with the temptation to beg her pardon she didn’t feel good. Could they meet another time? But she hung in. “Do you want to change your mind?” Anna asked. “It’s perfectly fine, perfectly understandable.” “No, I’m going to try to do this,” she said, feeling battered. “I want to help my husband find the right woman for our girls.” There, Harley thought. Keep the focus on our girls, not on a bedmate for Jason. “Did you bring pictures?” Anna asked. Harley looked off into space. “Yes! I have my phone. I have a thousand pictures on my phone.” Taking her phone out, Harley moved closer to Anna. She looked on as Harley thumbed through images of Tina with her violin, Bennie with her high school cap and gown, Devon on the first day of school, Angie playing soccer, the family at the beach, fishing on the bay, her mother, Maryanne, on the patio sipping a Mia Tai. “This is my mother-in-law,” Harley said, pointing a finger at Fran. “She’s wonderful. I’ve never had a sitter all these years, because Fran wanted to be with the children.” “You’re very blessed,” Anna said, blanching at the word. The woman did not appear to be blessed at this time. The next group of pictures was of Bea and Dave and their family, and Harley told the story about growing up with Bea and how lucky she felt the day Dave asked her to get married, knowing then her best friend would always be in the family. One after another, for fifteen minutes Harley talked, forgetting her predicament and Anna listened, soaking it in, hoping. Harley came to selfies of her and Jason. Anna didn’t say a word, but her heart started beating faster when she saw the pictures of the handsome Jason. Harley’s pride was clear as she explained each one. “This is our tenth anniversary, and this is the day Bennie received a scholarship to Columbia. But she didn’t accept it because of me. I’ll always regret it. She goes to community college and takes online classes from Drexel. I graduated from Drexel and think Bennie’s doing it to please me.” Catching her breath to take a sip of coffee, Harley was suddenly embarrassed for

monopolizing the conversation. “Anna, I’m sorry,” she said. “I think I was so apprehensive about this meeting I’ve lost my manners. Tell me about your family now, with pictures.” Reaching around to her purse, she got her phone out and did the same thing. Six-yearold Christopher playing T-ball and dressed up like a Jedi Knight, and twelve-year-old Ainsley in a candy stripper apron, caring for toddlers at the church nursery and twirling a baton in the marching band. While Harley looked on, happy to be learning about Anna’s family, it occurred to her that she’d never addressed what happened to the kid’s father. Anna never mentioned it during their first contact and Harley forgot to ask. “I guess that’s it for the pictures. If we meet again, I’ll bring an album or two,” Anna said. “I’m getting sore from sitting. Would you mind taking a walk? Looks like there’s a nice path around the shops.” “Sure,” Anna said, getting out of the booth. “A walk sounds good.” They walked side by side down a gravel path. Harley didn’t feel like it was necessary to say anything; what was there to say? It was so obvious that she was not taking charge, if anything were to happen, it would just have to happen because she’d lost her initiative and her energy. “You never asked about my husband,” Anna said. “Usually it’s brought up at the first contact but I never thought of it either.” “I did think of it just now when you were showing me your children’s pictures,” Harley said. “It’s only important if you’re still with him.” “No, he’s gone. He was killed in a car accident when I was pregnant with Chris,” she said. “It’s been so long I don’t automatically think of it anymore.” “I’m sorry,” Harley said, amazed again that it appeared everyone had a sad story, not only her. She thought that it could be Jason saying the same thing in six years. ‘It’s been so long I don’t automatically think of it,’ she’d said. Would he forget so quickly? When would he think of me? When he holds his new wife for the first time, will that be enough to erase memories of us together? “I can’t even imagine,” Harley said, trying to swallow her anguish, grief engulfing her anew.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I think of him all the time, but not the end of him.” Harley frowned. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Well for instance, that Jedi costume Chris was wearing last Halloween. Brian was a big fan, a huge fan of Star Wars. We have memorabilia all over the house. The kids remind me of Brian, we eat the same meals I used to prepare for him, I still maintain my car the way he would want me to. I think of him in ongoing terms. Not his death or how awful it was. The shock put me in early labor. I have gory details, horrible memories of what it was like to learn of it, that sort of thing. I doubt you want to hear it.” “What happens when you talk about it?” Harley asked, really needing to know. “I want to curl up in a ball and die,” Anna said. Harley slipped her hand into Anna’s and they walked together holding on to each other as Anna talked about the good memories she had, able to move on with her life, raise her children alone, visit her friends during the holidays. She made it clear she’d never forget about Brian. “Signing on to LoveMatch was at the urging of my sisters.” “Sisters can be persuasive,” Harley said. “Yes they can be,” Anna said. “It’s only been in the past six months or so that I’ve felt like I could even think about dating again. The children’s wellbeing made me wonder if going out on a date was worth upsetting the apple cart.” Harley asked, “So when do you want to meet the family?” “What’s the story?” Anna asked. “Sorry. I usually can’t stand it when people answer a question with a question.” “That’s okay,” Harley said. “The story is that you and I are friends. My sister-in-law, the one I grew up with who married Jason’s brother, is also an art teacher, so I think we’ll use her.” “Does she know what you’re up to?” Anna asked. “Yes, she was there at the beginning,” Harley said. “Actually, I just remembered it was her idea. Scary, isn’t it?” The women walked in a loop, chatting. Harley looked at her watch. “I guess I better head home. Jason took the week off so he might be wondering where I am.” “Thank you for meeting with me,” Anna said. “I really enjoyed it.”

“Me, too,” Harley said. “It was a little rough at the beginning. Too much reality I think.” Anna laughed. “I could tell you might be wondering if you’d made a right decision.” “More like wondering if I’d lost my mind is more like it,” Harley said. “Facing my own death comes in waves and reality was cresting when I pulled up here, knowing what we are planning. It’s better now; I’m down in a trough.” Without warning, Anna embraced Harley. “I guess that’s the only time being down is good.” “Yes,” Harley replied, returning the embrace. “We’ll talk soon and plan a time to get together when your children can come and meet mine. And you can meet Jason.” “It’s a little unnerving,” Anna said. “Why? Because he’s so handsome?” Harley asked. “Yes, that too,” Anna answered. “But because it’s sort of dishonest.” A hot flash cruised through Harley’s body, Anna’s words stinging. She made an effort not to respond defensively. “Well, try not to look at it that way. We can’t force him to do anything, but I want to help the effort along. Call me a control freak.” “Not you,” Anna quickly corrected. “Me. I’m afraid if this went anywhere he might resent it, feeling like I manipulated him.” Seeing her point, Harley thought for a moment. “If everything works out with the kids, I can write a letter of introduction for you to give Jason. Does that sound too hokey? Then everything can be out in the open after I die.” Confident that Bea would keep her secret from Jason, the possibility existed that Dave might slip and tell him. The more women Harley contacted, the greater exposure became. Maybe Anna and Kathy should be the only women contacted. The idea she shouldn’t interview more candidates was disheartening. “A letter of introduction is an idea,” Anna said, dubious. Reaching the parking lot, the women embraced again. Anna could feel the discrepancy in Harley’s body even though she’d layered a coat with a bulky sweater against the cold. The knowledge filled her with compassion, the reality of what they were doing transparent. This woman was dying for real and the worry about what would happen to her daughters consuming all her energy. Anna wanted to ask why she

didn’t just trust Jason to do the right thing if he was such a great husband and father. “Harley, don’t you think you can rely on Jason to make sure the girls are safe? From what you’ve said, he seems like a very conscientious father.” Harley gently pulled away from Anna, looking down at the ground. The gravel was dotted with broken glass, and she kicked a piece of it around while she formulated her words, not wanting to betray Jason, or make him look bad. “I do trust him with the girls. What I don’t trust are the wolves out there.” She had another hot flash thinking of Tiffany. “I know he’s faithful and honest, but there are a few women who are circling like vultures waiting for my demise and I don’t see them as mother-substitutes.” “So you’re worried when the time comes that he’ll be too exhausted to fight them off?” Anna asked. “Yes, sadly to say, that’s about it.” Anna didn’t tell Harley, but she understood the situation because it had happened to her when Brian died. A casual work friend of his put the moves on Anna a week after the funeral. As a last resort, she had to ask her father to chase him off, with phrases like restraining order and call the boss brandished about. “Something tells me you might be underestimating his love for you,” Anna said, as gently as she could. “I know he does, I really do. But I also know how persuasive the woman I’m concerned about is.” “So there is someone already,” Anna replied, failing to keep the disgust out of her voice. Harley sighed. “Yes, unfortunately.” “What’s so great about her?” Anna asked. “She’s your typical nightmare; early twenties, big boobs, no filter.” “Ugh. I know just the type. Well, you don’t have to worry about her, Harley. There’s nothing you can do about her.” “I know, that’s what’s so scary about this. That’s why I need to do what I’m doing.” “You should probably get in the car,” Anna said. “I can feel the temperature dropping.”

Harley did as she suggested and they chatted through her open window for a few more minutes, making plans for her to drive to Jason and Harley’s house the next weekend. “I’ll invite Bea, too,” Harley said, watching Anna carefully when she wasn’t aware of it, wanting to be able to tell Bea what she looked like. After school was out that day, Harley called Bea as soon as the girls were settled. “Can you talk? Because I think everyone is at home with their feet up, eating bonbons like I am.” “For you, I’m free,” Bea said, multitasking. “I put a hunk of something frozen in the crockpot this morning and now the house is permeated with onions and garlic. How’d the coffee meeting go?” “Well, you know I never asked her where her kid’s father was.” “You didn’t? Where is he?” “Dead. Six years now,” Harley answered. She explained the details while Bea commiserated. “Sad that the little boy doesn’t know the father,” she said. “Yes, well he’s been gone long enough that I don’t feel like it would be a burden for Jason. I invited her over Saturday. She’s an art teacher, too so you’re my reason for having her over.” The women talked a while longer before Harley begged off. Exhaustion was setting in and she wanted to rest for a bit before dinner, but it wasn’t to be because Devon needed help. “Mommy, I have homework tonight,” Devon said. “You do? What kind?” “Spelling,” she said, climbing into the recliner with Harley. Ten minutes later, Devon’s workbook was finished and cuddling, they fell asleep in each other’s arms. “Harley, Harley,” Jason whispered, not wanting to startle her. Opening her eyes, the discombobulation of a deep afternoon nap prevented her from fully grasping where she was, at first. But the worried gaze of Bennie standing behind him, and an unfamiliar face in a white coat looming at the end of the bed, Harley quickly figured out she was in the hospital.

“You’re kidding me,” she said. “Before you get all huffy, just hear me out,” Jason started. “Mom, we couldn’t wake you up. We thought you were…gone,” Bennie said, bursting into tears. “Well obviously I’m not,” she said, reaching down for Bennie’s hand. “I’d like to keep you around for a few days, just for testing,” the doctor said. “No way,” Harley said, sitting up. She felt fine, a little woozy as usual when she first woke up. “Where am I anyway?” Jason gave her the name of the local community hospital. “I would feel safer if you stayed,” Jason said. “Well I wouldn’t,” Harley replied, pushing him out of the way. “What time is it? Poor Devi.” “It’s just seven,” Jason said, looking at the doctor. “I told you she wouldn’t want to stay.” “What’s the point?” she asked. “I’m dying, we all know that. I’m sorry Bennie. But I want to be at home with my family. Let me sleep if you can’t wake me up, for god’s sake.” “It wasn’t like that,” Bennie pleaded. “You were out cold.” “I got on the couch with Devon at five. If it’s only seven, you didn’t give me much time. How long have I been here?” “About a half an hour. You slept through an ambulance ride.” “Oh lord, you’re kidding me? Let me outta here before my girls think I’m not coming back.” They stood aside as she slid off the bed, checking her appearance in the mirror. “I’ll never get used to not having hair. “You’ll need to sign some papers,” the doctor said. “I’ll sign whatever you’ve got, as long as I can leave,” she replied. They walked out to the nurse’s station together, Harley admonishing a contrite Jason while the ER admissions clerk drew up the necessary discharge papers. Holding both their hands, Harley insisted she walk to the car in spite of the freezing temps. “It’s winter,” she said. “I have always loved the winter.” “You love every season, Mom,” Bennie said.

They got inside the car and Jason started it up, putting the heat on full blast. “The car never even got a chance to cool off,” Harley said. “I guess I’m glad this happened because it will help me set some ground rules for what I want. I don’t want to go the hospital. Ever. I’ll call hospice tomorrow and get them involved. When the time comes, you call them, not the ambulance. If it gets to be too much for you, then and only then send me off. If you don’t like this idea, we can figure out something else. I can go to my mother’s house.” No one spoke for a minute or two until Bennie finally agreed. “I want you home, too, Mom. We just got scared.” “I was afraid something was wrong,” Jason said, contrite. “I mean, more wrong than usual.” “I think somnolence isn’t uncommon. I almost couldn’t keep my eyes open during dinner on Thanksgiving.” “This was more like narcolepsy,” Jason said. “I was afraid you’d stop breathing for good.” He leaned in closer to her. “You were cheyne stoking, baby.” “Dad, I know what that is,” Bennie said. “You don’t have to protect me.” “Well clearly it wasn’t cheyne stokes,” Harley said, trying to keep it light but serious. “I’m not that bad, yet. As macabre as it is, I’m glad we’re able to talk about it openly. I never wanted anything like this for my kids. Growing up with my dad was hard enough and my parents did everything they could to normalize it for us. But I think we can make the best of it.” “I just hate it,” Bennie said. “Me, too,” Jason said, his voice cracking. “Yeah, I hear ya,” Harley said. The house was just ahead, Fran’s car in the driveway. “Oh no, you didn’t call Fran.” “My dad probably called. Remember, he was here working on the basement with me.” “Oh, right.” Harley hated that her health had forced the family into worrying about her, but there didn’t seem to be a way around it. Leaving the car out of the garage, they huddled around Harley and trudged up the walkway together, the family crowding at the door as soon as they heard the car pull up.

Devon’s smile beamed, oblivious to any concerns. “Mommy’s home!” “We’re so glad you’re home,” Fran said, patting her, Joe looking on concerned, Tina pale, Angie relieved. Harley pulled Tina over and hugged her. “False alarm. I think the last round of chemo just wore me down. I’m starving,” she lied. “Do I smell dinner?” “Let’s eat,” Fran said. “Angie saved the day by pulling the ribs out of the oven in the nick of time.” “Ribs?” Jason asked. “Just for you,” Harley said. “I can’t look a turkey in the eye,” Fran said. “So happy we aren’t eating turkey again.” The family laughed, a tragedy narrowly averted.

Having Jason home that week wasn’t so bad after all. They copied the weekend routine of Jason going out to get Harley a cappuccino and having a leisurely morning together after the girls left for school. At ten, Joe arrived and the men would disappear into the basement. “I’m coming down to see what progress you’ve made,” she called from the top of the steps. “No, don’t do that,” Jason replied. “You should see it when it’s further along. Right now it’s just a big mess.” Wandering around the house at loose ends, Harley thought of Kathy Agin and keyed in her number. “Hi Harley,” she answered, recognizing the number. “I was thinking about you.” “That’s so nice,” she replied. “I was wondering how we can get together again. We probably won’t be coming to the shore now until next spring.” She didn’t add If I live that long, but the words lingered unspoken for a moment. Kathy hesitated, her unspoken silence reverberating. “That is if you want to get together,” Harley continued. “Harley, I don’t know what to say,” Kathy replied, feeling awkward. But Harley caught on right away.

“Oh. I’m so, so sorry,” Harley said, defeated. “Honestly, I don’t think Jason’s for me,” Kathy lied. “There’s no chemistry. I can usually tell right off the bat if someone is interested. I got zero from him.” Taken aback, Harley sputtered to reply. Taking a few, deep breaths, she realized it was okay. A reluctant participant was worthless in this endeavor and if she didn’t understand that Jason wasn’t the type of guy to give out vibes to a friend of his wife’s, it was probably better to cross Kathy Agin off the list. “I won’t try to pretend I’m not disappointed, but I understand,” Harley replied, horribly disappointed and not understanding at all. But she decided to try to explain anyway. “Jason doesn’t really interact with my friends, it’s just his way. But thank you for your candor. Good luck!” “Oh, Harley, you too. I’m sorry it didn’t work out. Thank you for reaching out to me.” They said goodbye, Harley sad she’d never need to speak to Kathy again, feeling in a short time that they’d made a deep connection, and Kathy understanding she wouldn’t know when Harley died. Anxious to tell Bea about the turn of events, she’d have to wait until school was out. Weeks earlier, she’d sent Bea letters for her to give to Kathy and Jason individually, and one addressed to them as a couple if they should get together. Now, there was no need for them. In the meantime, she’d visit with her sister Melissa. As long as Harley felt strong enough, she was going to continue going out alone.

Anna Wainwright pulled into the townhouse complex where she lived with Chris and Ainsley, feeling hopeful for the first time in a long time. The idea that another woman’s tragedy was responsible for her sense of optimism made her feel guilty. Getting involved in such a harebrained scheme was unlike Anna. Since Brian died, she avoided even slight imbalances in logical thinking because she was afraid one slip would send her into the abyss. Eight-months pregnant with Chris when Brian’s accident happened, Anna had her hands full with six-year-old Ainsley, who was showing signs of mental illness already. It took every ounce of self-will she had to keep from sinking. Her family couldn’t help, her mother barely able to cope with her own life choices and her in-laws strangely

detached. Never accepting that their son was gone, Brian’s death gave them the excuse to turn their backs on her. Anna was truly alone. Support came from the local church daycare center so Anna could start teaching soon after Chris was born. Putting her children first meant not acting on loneliness. Now that Chris was in school all day, Anna’s sisters nagged her about doing the internet-dating thing, but so far, it hadn’t been promising until she met Harley. With Saturday looming in the future, she had no idea what to expect. The anxiety was starting to take a toll on her patience with the children, which she didn’t want. If she couldn’t cope with it, she’d have to beg off. Nothing was worth causing trouble for her kids. But the questions remained. Would Jason be included in the conversation with Harley and her sister-in-law, Bea? Would Jason join in the games? Harley said the family was big on games and cards. Ainsley was a card shark and little Chris was just learning. Would they include the younger kids in the games? By Friday she could no longer stand the stress and as soon as the kids were settled in front of the TV after dinner, she got out her phone and called Harley. “Let me go someplace quiet,” Harley said, the racket in the background of a family horsing around unmistakable. “I’m sorry to bother you on a Friday night,” Anna said. “It’s fine. My sisters and their families are here for pizza and movie night and Bea and Dave just dropped in,” Harley explained. Then in whisper she said, “They’ll be back tomorrow.” “What will we do over there tomorrow?” Anna asked. Harley detected fear in her voice. “Saturday afternoons are an extension of Friday nights,” she said. “It’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry about you know who. He isn’t the chatty type normally, especially with my friends. He’ll be curious, and if I can say it without embarrassing you, probably more than usual because you are so beautiful.” “Aw, thank you. I don’t feel that way about myself,” Anna said. “I was wondering if he’d be around.” “He’s finishing our basement,” Harley said. “He’ll be busy down there with his

brother and father. They’ll come up for dinner and might stay for a game or two. We don’t have any set rules; just take it as it comes.” The next morning, Harley was in a deep sleep when Devon came in, sneaking past the others who’d issued warnings not to disturb her mother. Carefully crawling into bed with Harley, Devon lay next to her with two Barbie dolls who whispered to each other, dancing on the comforter, doing gentle gymnastics with their rigid limbs. “Devon Jones,” Angie whispered. “I asked you to stay out of here.” “I’m being quiet,” she said her little girl voice. “I want to be with Mommy.” Harley heard murmuring voices. Slowly entering consciousness, it took all of the power she could summon to speak. “That’s okay, Angie. I’m awake. What time is it?” “Ten-thirty,” Angie said. “You stay there. Devi, you too. I’ll bring coffee and breakfast in bed.” Harley struggled to keep her eyes open. She’d read cancer patients who remain active did better than those who were sedentary. But she was at the cusp of giving up, staying in bed, letting nature takes its course. Glad Devon was in bed with her, it would force her to get moving. “Okay, Miss Devon, help Mommy up,” she said, pulling herself into up on an elbow. “Boy, I’m so sleepy.” Devon got behind her and started to push on her back, shoving her to the edge of the bed while Harley laughed. Jason appeared in the doorway. “Devon! Stop that,” he shouted. Harley put up her hand. “I asked her to help me, Jay. Relax.” Yawning, she inched her legs over the side of the bed as he came to help her. “Sorry Devi,” he said, smiling at her. “That’s okay Daddy,” she said. Devon hopped off the side of the bed and took Harley’s hand while Jason as on the other side. “Jerry Michaels called an hour ago,” he said. “He did? About my blood work?” “Yes,” Jason said. They didn’t say more, leaving her at the bathroom door. She shut it, and Jason turned to the bed. “Let’s straighten Mommy’s bed for her,” he said, wishing he could pack the

family up and return to the beach and wait it out. Trying to be normal, going through the motions, working to get everything perfect so Harley could die in peace was exhausting. Bennie came into the bedroom to find out how Harley was. “Angie has her breakfast just about ready,” she said. “Hold off, honey,” Jason replied. “Take Devi out with you.” “Was that the….” she mouthed doctor…”On the phone?” “Yes,” he said. “We’ll talk in a bit. I need to talk to Mommy.” “Come on Devi,” Bennie said. “You need to clean up your room.” “Oh, all right,” she answered. Jason sat on the bed, waiting. He heard the squeaking of the shower being turned off. “Where’d Devon go?” Harley asked, toweling the white down on her head. “Bennie came to get her so we can talk,” he answered. “She’s regressing,” Harley said, sad. “Have you noticed? Talking baby talk, she even wet the bed this week. This is messing up my family.” “Look, you’re doing everything you can to make this as smooth as possible for the girls. Some things are just out of our hands.” He knew it was a ridiculous thing to say. Everything that was happening was out of their hands. “What’d Jerry say?” she asked, sitting on the bed next to him. “Your liver enzymes are elevated,” Jason said. “Ha!” Harley barked. “I don’t need a doctor to tell me that.” She pulled her shirt tightly across her belly for Jason to see. “This is relatively new.” Leaning closer to her, he put his hand on her and could feel the heat coming off her. “Do you have a fever or are you just hot from the shower?” “I don’t have a fever,” she said. “Probably the only thing that is normal on me is my temp. I’ve been taking it because I know it will start to go down when…” Pulling her gently onto his lap, Jason embraced her, burying his face in her neck, missing her long, red hair, because there wasn’t anything to grab on to. Angry he was going to lose her and not able to control what was happening in their life, he started to sob. It wasn’t the first time he’d lost it, and she didn’t join in in despair like she did the

first few times he broke down. She patted his back, smoothing his hair, thinking of other hands which would soon replace hers, preforming the same acts of compassion. Numb, Harley preferred this to the crazy despondent hysteria she felt just a few months ago. Numb was good. She could sooth Jason without pairing up with him in anguish. One grief-stricken soul in a couple was enough. Calming down, Jason left for the bathroom to wash his face. Harley climbed back in bed, waiting for him there. He came out, expressionless. “I need to run to the hospital pharmacy,” he said. “You’re getting IV meds.” “And you’re going to start my IV?” “Yep, I get to stick you. Although I’d rather stick you with something else, an IV catheter will have to do.” “You are so romantic, Jason!” Harley said, laughing out loud. “I’ll let the girls bring your breakfast in and I’ll head out.” He bent down to kiss her. “I’m not hungry,” she said. “The thought of food makes me sick.” “It’s the ascites,” he said. But the moment the words were out of his mouth, he was sorry he couldn’t take them back. The cause of ascites wasn’t something from which a patient would recover. “I know what it is,” she said. “I only have to hang on for six more months. Just 180 days until Angie graduates.” “You’ll make it,” Jason said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’ll help you. You’ll make it.” “If you say so,” she answered. “Let me at least bring you coffee,” he said, getting up. Harley watched him walk out of the room. The switch from husband in denial to truthful, straightforward husband was a little jarring for her. Maybe she preferred the sobbing husband who proclaimed his misery over a situation out of his hands. This rational, calm husband seemed a little too eager to accept the status quo. Pondering it, she looked around the room, shocked at how detached she’d become over night. It might be a knee jerk reaction to the sudden appearance of her swollen abdomen, but whatever its cause, she decided it was good. It was a slow acceptance of things to come, unlike what an accident victim would experience; someone who didn’t

have days and weeks to cycle through the stages of grief. Voices coming down the hall, she saw her family entering, Jason helping Devon manage the tray. “Breakfast in bed for ma lady,” Jason said, the girls laughing at his ridiculous accent, part Julia Child, but more Dan Ackroyd imitating Julia Child. The tray was beautifully appointed using their good dishes and a bud vase with a chrysanthemum bud plucked from a plant on the porch. “Oh look! How pretty,” Harley exclaimed. “Thank you so much, girls.” “Daddy helped,” Devon confessed. “Just selected the jelly,” he replied. “I know your favorite, do I not?” “Yes, you do,” she said, examining the tray. It was obvious someone who’d been through nursing school had a hand in preparing her breakfast. Just one piece of toast, buttered and spread with strawberry jam, cut into quarters so not to overwhelm the frail appetite. A saucer with less than a few spoonful’s of cooked oatmeal with brown sugar, making it like cookie dough batter. A small juice glass with watered down orange juice and a mug of coffee with pumpkin spice creamer. Harley couldn’t help herself; she started to laugh. “Thank you for this delicious breakfast,” she said. “If I can’t finish this, well I don’t know what to say.” “It’s mouse portions,” Jason said, and the girls burst out laughing. “I’ll do my best.” While she ate, the girls piled on the bed, Jason hovering nearby, Harley regained some of her previous will to fight. She finished her meager breakfast and shooed everyone away so she could get dressed. “I forgot to tell you a friend is coming by today. Anna, an art teacher, just like Aunt Bea. She has two kids, a girl twelve and a six year old boy.” No one appeared to be too interested in Anna, for which Harley was grateful. A few minutes before, while she sat on Jason’s lap and he had his melt-down, the urge to tell him about LoveMatch.com grew, but she fought it. She’d wait until the last possible minute. Jason picked up the drugs and IV tubing from the hospital pharmacy and was back by noon to administer the drugs. Within minutes the fluid which had filled her abdomen to

swelling started to leave her body. “I feel better already,” she told Jason. As soon as it finished, he took out the IV and Harley was back to being the mother and wife, preparing for company, doing laundry, readying her girls for the following week. Following her around the house, Jason knew her well-being would be short lived, but for the time being he’d be able to relax and let her take over. Sitting at the counter, Harley started writing notes in a small notebook. “What are you writing?” “I’m taking notes for you. Things that I take for granted about caring for the girls and tasks around the house that I might have forgotten to share with you.” “Like what?” Jason asked, frowning. “Well, like Tina is allergic to laundry detergent that has perfume in it, but the rest of the family isn’t.” “So just wash everyone’s clothes in the non-smelly stuff.” “Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way, Jay. Trust me on this. It’s just easier to keep her things separate. The girls do their own laundry for the most part, all but Devon. But I wash the sheets and towels and our stuff.” “What else?” “Well, they’re particular about certain brands of food. You know Tina’s a vegetarian. The older girls all watch their sugar intake. I read labels.” “Jeez, that’s why it takes you so long in the grocery store,” Jason said. Harley chuckled, agreeing with him. “I have all my recipes in this book,” she said, pulling another notebook out from the shelf above her kitchen desk. It was a drill she’d gone through with him before but a new urgency drove her to want to repeat it. This time, he listened instead of blowing her off, thinking they had a lot of time to work out all the kinks of her absence. Skimming through the pages to find a certain recipe for pasta salad she knew would be missed if no one made it again, Jason stood next to her looking down at the book, interested. Speaking the ingredients, pointing with her finger, Jason thought of a summer holiday in which friends and family applauded Harley’s pasta salad. The first thing Andy Forman said on Memorial Day was, “Where’s Harley’s macaroni salad?”

But it wasn’t really about a recipe for macaroni salad that was moving Jason. His wife was trying to maintain her place in the family by teaching her methods of caring for them. He didn’t have the heart to tell her they would probably work things out on their own, that the way she did things was imprinted in her brain, the nuances and techniques that were particularly Harley wouldn’t be available, no matter how much effort he put into trying to emulate her. “We all love your macaroni salad,” he said as she put the book back on the shelf. “Ha! That’s really all it is, we call it pasta salad but it’s just plain old macaroni salad. You’ll make it, won’t you?” She’d turned to him, her scant eyebrows in a questioning expression. “Of course I will,” he said, taking her in his arms. “Don’t worry Harley. I promise to keep it together. Like you’ve said, the girls are old enough now to help out. Next year we’ll have two girls in college. Can you believe it?” Feeling safe and warm in his arms, Harley nodded her head. “Two in college,” she echoed. “Wow, that’s unbelievable.” “Tina’s old enough to drive this summer, but I don’t think she will.” “That’s true,” Harley replied. “Tina behind a wheel isn’t a pretty thought.” Laughing, they held on to each other, enjoying a normal moment. “I guess I’d better head downstairs. What time’s everyone coming?” “I told them around three. We’ll have a late lunch.” Harley watched him descend to the basement, and soon the sound of the saw and nail gun filled the house with a reassuring sense that life was moving on in a positive way, in spite of the reality.

The girls went about their Saturday routine; Bennie starting in on homework, Angie getting back into bed to read, Devon engrossed in Barbie, Tina sitting at her sewing machine, putting together a new design which had haunted her in the night; a dress with a full skirt, right out of the fifties. “I couldn’t wait to get up and start working on it,” she confessed to Albie during their morning chat. “It sounds over the top,” he confessed. “I’ll look forward to seeing you in it.”

“I guess we should talk about the Senior Prom,” Tina replied. “It’s sort of why I’m making it.” “You want to go to my prom? Whoa, girl. Where’d this come from?” “I think my mom would like to see me dressed up for a prom, that’s all.” The unspoken; since she won’t see me for my own prom. “So, will you take me?” Tina asked. “Of course! I was going to ask you even though I was almost sure you’d say no,” he said, not addressing her motivation for going. “Since we’re talking prom here, you know Christmas is almost here.” “Don’t get me anything,” she replied. “Tina, what fifteen year old girl doesn’t want a Christmas gift from her boyfriend? You’re scaring me.” “I just don’t think we should give gifts this year. There’s nothing to celebrate. And are you my boyfriend?” “Ah, yeah, I think I qualify as being a boyfriend. Do want a ring to prove it?” “Like a going steady ring?” “Something like that. How about my class ring?” “I’m not sure I’m allowed,” she said, concerned. “I should probably pass it by my folks.” It would be another first. Her sisters never dated. Both attractive, smart and funny, everywhere they went, they went in a group. Even Angie, who was ravishing, even she never had a boy come to the house just for her. “Well do you want me to come along when you ask?” “No, that sounds too formal, like an engagement or something. I don’t want my mom to freak out.” “Okay, well whatever way you want to handle it, just let me know,” Albie replied. “By the way, am I going to see you this weekend?” “Come over at three. Everyone will be here,” she said absently, wanting to return to her dress. Proms, class rings, her mother’s death loomed large. They said goodbye. Tina wanted to tell her mother about the prom first. She checked her appearance in the mirror. Training her hair into dreadlocks was not a favorite of

Jason’s, but Harley loved it. The alternative to shaving her head when Harley’s hair started to fall out; she couldn’t justify the time she spent on her hair when her mother was losing hers, everyone finding Harley’s long, red hair all over the house. Wearing the dreadlocks piled on top of her head with a bandana wrapped around them kept them off her face. “Mom,” she called out, waiting in the doorway of her bedroom. “Where are you?” She knew Harley was in the kitchen but one of her precious memories was of all the sisters’ voices calling for her and Harley answering back, “I’m in the kitchen,” or “In the den,” or wherever. “I’m in the laundry room,” she called out. Tina went through the kitchen to the laundry room off the garage. Harley was still wearing her crocheted bedcap. “Mom, I have something that is more daytime appropriate for you to wear.” Putting her hand up to her head, Harley couldn’t remember what she had on. “Don’t you like this?” “You look great, but I made you a flapper cap with a big flower that will go better with your jeans.” “Okay, whatever you think,” she said, throwing Tina the end of a sheet. “Help me.” While they folded sheets together, Tina told her about the vision for the dress and then Albie asking her to prom. They commiserated about it, excited, talking about the shoes she’d get and how she’d do her hair now that it was in dreads. The key was being in step with the rules of the school. No one had challenged her hairstyle yet. “There’s one more thing,” Tina said. “Albie asked me to go steady. He’ll give me his class ring if you and Dad say it’s okay.” Harley stopped folding and looked at Tina. She was growing up, almost sixteen, such a good kid, as her sisters were. Was sixteen too young to go steady? “What will happen when he leaves for Michigan in the fall?” Receiving early admission from University of Michigan, his departure was too painful for either to contemplate. “I don’t know. I don’t know how it will work. I don’t see him waiting around for me, do you?”

“Gosh, Tina, I don’t know either. It doesn’t seem realistic, or fair. Could you go steady until he leaves?” Harley wanted to be part of her daughter’s dating life. She wanted to be there to guide her for as long as she could. If Tina went steady now, Harley could micromanage the relationship. But then common sense hit and the ridiculousness of it magnified. “Wait, maybe that isn’t such a good idea. It might hurt more if you have to give his ring back before he takes off for college.” “It sounds awful,” Tina said. “I think we should leave things as they are.” A close call narrowly averted, Harley was thrilled her daughter had made the decision herself. “Thank heaven you didn’t take my advice,” she said. Tina giggled. “That’s okay Mom. I know what you’re up to. I’d better call Albie now and let him know.” She leaned in to kiss Harley. “Thanks for listening.” “I’ll be right in to see the dress,” she said. “It’s still pretty much in pieces,” Tina said. Relieved that the pressure of being a girlfriend had been lifted, Tina sighed, happy her mother was willing to listen and offer choices; she was going to be sorrowfully missed.

By four that afternoon, the house was full of Jason and Harley’s extended family and friends, with Melissa and Kelly and their husbands, Maryanne, Fran and Joe, Dave and Bea and the kids and Anna and her family. Her arrival was anticlimactic, coming in between groups of the girls’ friends, including Albie, who was in agreement that Tina had made a wise choice. “I’m not going to change when I go to college,” he said. “And unless you find someone else, we can see each other when I come home.” Fran and Bea took over the kitchen, putting food out buffet style. For a change everyone ate sitting around the dining room table. “I’m so glad to be using this room,” Harley exclaimed. “I always loved this room. What was I saving it for?” “For today,” Jason said, leaning in to kiss her. Anna watched from afar. The pictures of Jason she saw on Harley’s phone didn’t prepare her for Jason in the flesh. Pulling up in her battered car with the kids fighting in

the backseat, Anna’s heart sank when the pretentiousness of the house came into view. A huge, gabled monstrosity with wooden carriage-house doors on the garage, lighted brick pillars at the entrance to the circular drive, professional landscaping. Recalling what Jason did for a living, nurse anesthetists must make more money than she’d realized. But then she remembered that Harley had always worked, too. The couple worked as a team, building an impressive life. Could she and Brian have done the same thing if he’d lived? Harley set the table for their late lunch, pulling fine china out of the hutch in the dining room along with silver flatware service for sixteen. “We never bother to use it. It’s so silly; I guess I was saving it for a special occasion. Well today is as special as it gets. This is my wedding china,” she announced. The girls circled their mother as she passed around a tea cup with a hand painted motif of birds inside the cup. “I don’t get it,” Bennie said. “Why decorate the inside of the cup? Who sees it?” “You get the surprise when the tea is gone,” Angie said, guessing. Of all the girls, Anna thought Angie looked most like Jason, with curly black hair and alabaster skin, dark blue eyes with long lashes. She was dressed in athletic wear and it seemed to Anna she was doing everything in her power to look less like a woman, even down to wearing a tight sports bra that flattened out her breasts. Observing the children, she carefully watched Bea’s daughter Amanda taking charge of Ainsley and Chris, providing activities for them so they didn’t feel left out. The daughter, Tina, was the oddest of the four Jones children. There was no denying she was beautiful, but her hair and clothing were so bizarre. Anna wasn’t sure why the parents allowed her to dress the way she did. Her hair was in a bird’s nest of rats, tied up on top of her head with a bandana. Anna supposed in honor of the holidays, she had rhinestone Christmas tree earrings with a matching broach which adorned a navy blue cardigan and a plaid straight skirt right out of a 1970’s Pendleton catalog. “Is your outfit vintage?” Anne asked, noting the contradictions in style. “Yes, it is,” Tina replied. “My shoes are Capezios from 1965. My grandmother, Maryanne found several pair for me in a thrift shop, never been worn.” She pointed to a middle aged woman who was mixing lemonade in a big, clear glass pitcher. “That’s my

mom’s mom. Would you like to meet her?” Anna supposed getting to know all the players in advance could only be to her advantage if anything did come of Harley’s plan. Leading the way into the kitchen, she introduced Anna to Maryanne. Immediately, Anna felt the despair of a mother about to lose a child, and she thought at that moment that possibly this idea was more than she bargained for. Yes, maybe the deathwatch was too much for her. How long could she hang on? As Harley had warned he might, the husband barely looked in her direction after a friendly hello, but the chemistry she felt was immediate. As far as her children’s comfort was concerned, they were playing so nicely, a rare occurrence, she didn’t want to disturb them. It appeared the only one who was uncomfortable was her. The meal was about to be served. She could eat and run if the discomfort of being there continued to taunt her. Harley looked good, Anna thought. At their meeting early in the week, Harley’s discomfort was palpable. At first, Anne thought she might be having regrets, and Harley as much admitted it. But her physical discomfort worsened as the morning progressed. Today Harley’s color was better, she was moving around the house like a healthy woman might, taking charge of the get-together. Anna even noticed she seemed to have two breasts, at their first meeting it was obvious she wasn’t wearing a prosthesis, if that was what it was called. She had on a cute crocheted cap that was reminiscent of a flapper hat; the odd daughter Tina remarked that she’d made it for her mother. Tight jeans and a stylish sweater, Harley was decked out. “You look really nice,” Anna told her. “Thank you, Anna,” she replied. “I felt like I needed to make the effort today because…” After she said it, she made a motion with her hand which started at Anna’s head and swooped down to her feet. Anna didn’t know what the gesture was for at first but when she got it, it embarrassed her. She’d made a point of dressing simply just so Harley would be okay. “I dressed down,” she said. “Sorry, but you could wear sackcloth and a bag on your head and you’d still be a knock out.” Anna burst out laughing, Harley’s eyebrows raised to make a point. “Trust me, it’s a good thing you do for women, making them want to take better care of themselves.”

“If you say so,” Anna replied, self-conscious. “I do. My husband has always liked me to dress a certain way and most of the time; if he’s going to be around I try to make sure I’m accommodating.” “Well you look like you feel better than you did on Monday, too,” Anna said. “I do thanks. It appears my liver is failing, so Jason gave me an IV med this morning before everyone arrived and I felt better immediately. The only problem is I have to pee constantly, but other than that, it’s much better.” “I’m so glad,” Anna said sincerely, that wave of discomfort about the situation cresting again, but she ignored it, determined to stick it out for a while longer. The meal was delicious, a typical family meal with women hovering over the backs of chairs encouraging more food intake. Jason’s mother seemed to take an interest in Anna, making sure she was included in conversations, inquiring about her wellbeing from time to time. “Our family can be pretty obnoxious,” she said. “Mom, that’s real nice,” brother Dave replied, looking at Anna with curiosity. Growing concern that he might know the real reason she was there added to her anxiety. The art teacher, Bea, Dave’s wife and Harley’s sister-in-law was supposed to be the reason Harley had invited Anna to the house, but she couldn’t be bothered, almost hostile. Harley didn’t hold back, telling Anna what she suspected. “I think my sister-in-law is feeling jealous,” Harley said honestly. “I’m going to ignore it and I hope you can, too. I’m just sorry because I need her.” “You were hoping we’d be allies?” “Yes,” Harley said. “Allies. She has her own issues right now so maybe I was expecting too much.” If speaking frankly about Bea was a betrayal, Harley would suffer the consequences later. The tension between Bea and Dave was palpable and it made Harley angry that they couldn’t cooperate for one afternoon. “What’s wrong with your brother?” she asked Jason. “Got me. He asked me about Anna, believe it or not. ‘Who’s the babe?’” “He used the word babe?” she asked, incredulous, smacking her thigh with a dish towel. “Now I cannot believe it.” “Yep, babe.” He rubbed his jaw and looked at Harley from the corners of his eyes;

an expression that he used to use that tickled her, causing laughing hysterics. “Who is she, by the way? And why is she here?” Studying Harley’s face intently, Dave had made a comment about Anna that had roused Jason’s curiosity. “She’s just a friend. An art teacher. I thought Bea would hit it off with her but obviously I was as wrong as I could be.” They looked into the dining room at the family, Melissa engaging Anna, Bea’s smoldering look evident across the room. “No, that ain’t gonna work,” Jason said nodding toward the dining room. “You mean, like a new friend for Bea? Because she’s not biting. What exactly was your motivation?” Harley turned to the counter and fussed over an imaginary spill, wiping it with her dishcloth, ignoring him. If he discovered what she was up to, it couldn’t be good. “I just thought she might like a new friend with common interests since I won’t be around.” Quickly turning to Jason, she couldn’t help it, but burst out laughing. “Oh my God! I can’t believe I just used that as an excuse.” “Come here,” he said, pulling her over. “Dave told me what you were planning last summer but that was all, just that you were planning. Is Anna part of the plan?” “Sort of,” Harley whispered. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” “I understand. I’m sorry about Tiffany and all of that rigmarole. I can see why you’d want a say in who might come around. But you have to admit that’s pretty wild.” “I’m not admitting anything. Let’s talk about it later, okay? Little ears and all that. Plus it will embarrass Anna if you let on you know.” “Thank you dear, but she’s really not my type,” Jason replied. “That’s not what LoveMatch.com said.” “She looks like my twin, for god’s sake,” he whispered. “We even have the same build.” Harley giggled, but shushed him. “I don’t want her to be any more uncomfortable than she already is.” Entering the dining room again with Jason following Harley, the guests looked up and

smiled, having heard the laughter. As long as Harley was laughing, all would be well. The rest of the meal was a fun and relaxed adventure now that Jason was aware of her plan. But Bea was still miserable, and would soon let Harley know she was to blame.

Chapter 20 After the meal mess was cleared, Harley insisted everyone stay in the dining room for games. “This is a perfect table for our shenanigans,” she shouted. “You can stay here.” In the past, games would be set up in the kitchen with people sitting behind each other, having to stand up to make their moves. In the dining room, they might have to stretch to move their game pieces, but everyone would have a seat. The younger children could have the kitchen table for their version of game night. At the kitchen sink rinsing dishes off, Harley avoided Bea, hoping she’d relax enough to enjoy herself. But Bea had other ideas. “We need to talk,” Bea said, venom in her voice. Harley whipped around, facing Bea. “You scared me,” she said, hand to her heart. “I’m sorry,” Bea said, her face etched with anger. “Do you want to go into my bedroom?” Glancing in the dining room again, she could see Anna was sitting next to Maryanne, and they were strategizing together, sitting across from Harley’s sisters and father-in-law. The other men were in the den, watching a Red Skins game. “Yes, your bedroom is fine,” Bea said. “Joe makes me sick. What’s the sudden interest in games? It’s Anne, of course.” Harley waved her along, walking down the hall to her bedroom. “I know you’re upset about something,” she said. “You’re damn right I’m mad.” Harley closed the door when they were inside, worried the younger kids would hear the altercation. She sat on the edge of her bed, suddenly tired, looking up at Bea. In thirty years of friendship, she’d never talked to Harley like she just had. “I’m so sorry,” Harley said. “What did I do?”

“This ridiculous idea of hooking women up with Jason, and then inviting her, that’s what you did.” “You mean Anne?” Harley asked, mystified. “You choose Anne, if I remember correctly. We’ll have so much in common. Do you remember saying that? As a matter of fact, the online dating thing was your idea originally.” “That was before I realized she was a Playboy model,” Bea said, plopping down on the bed next to Harley. “I’m too jealous of her to ever be friends with her.” Harley could feel Bea’s hatred deflating like an old balloon, and within seconds, she was just Bea, sad and lonely because her husband was unhappy. She’d look for any scapegoat to unload her anger on, including her best friend, whether she was dying or not. “Well, you don’t need to worry about it because Jason knows everything, thanks to Dave, and he just told me Anne isn’t his type. He said she looks too much like him.” Bea put her hand over her mouth and laughed. “Oh no,” she said. “I’m so sorry. Dave is an asshole.” “No worries,” Harley replied, sighing. “I can’t believe you got mad at me because Anne is beautiful.” Bea grabbed her and hugged her. “Please forgive me, Harl. I’ve been miserable and you’re the only person strong enough to handle it I guess. I can’t level with Dave because he’s about ready to bolt. Who else do I have?” “What will you do when I die?” she asked. “I can’t even think of that,” Bea said. “Now I can feel guilty about acting like a jerk, too.” “I guess we’re all on edge,” Harley said, annoyed. “I’d better get back out there.” Her turn to feel irrational, Bea’s outburst was the last straw for Harley. She wanted everyone gone so she could get into bed and read. But a house full of guests precluded that. Glancing into the kitchen, the children playing Scrabble, Harley’s favorite. “Can I play?” she asked. “Of course, Aunt Harley,” Sally said, pulling out a chair for her. Devon cuddled up next to her, pulling her rack of tiles closer. “I’ll share with you, Mommy,” she said.

Anne’s daughter Ainsley was teamed up with Albie and Tina, her son Chris with Angie. “Thank you girls, for helping out tonight. I really appreciate it.” Playing energized her, focusing on simple words and easy childish conversation made the evening enjoyable for Harley, the laughter and chatter memory making for. But by eight, she was beat. “Are you tired, honey?” Maryanne asked. Harley nodded. Fran, unloading the dishwasher, saw her. “I’ll finish this up and then we’ll get out of your hair.” “Everyone can finish their games,” Harley said. “I don’t want to be mean old Aunt Harley.” The children laughed, sing-songing mean old Aunt Harley. One by one, the family left, her sisters first, hugging her with promises of visits throughout the week. Bea and Dave left, Bea mouthing I’m sorry and Dave avoiding eye contact, although he had a big hug for Anne with exclamations that he hoped they’d see her again soon. By nine, the only person left was Anne “Thank you so much,” she said. “I was so worried at first, but everyone was so nice to me. It was a pleasant evening.” Harley debated telling Anne that Jason knew, but decided she was too tired to broach the subject. It could wait for another day. “Thank you for coming,” she said. “I think the kids had a good time.” Tina and Albie offered to walk the family out to Anne’s car, so Harley lingered by the door, waiting for them to come back inside. Waving as the car pulled away from the house, Harley had a sense of relief. Hopefully, Anne wouldn’t stalk Jason after she died. Why’d I think of that horrible possibility? “Mom, is it okay if Albie hangs out for a while?” “Of course. You’re always welcome, Albie,” Harley said. “I, for one am going to bed.” She went into the den and kissed her children goodnight. “I’ll tuck you in,” Jason said. He’d stay up as long as Albie was hanging around, which made Harley happy. Thanks to Fran and Harley’s sisters and mother, all evidence of the gathering was cleaned up. “I wish I would have had a chance to talk to my sisters and mother tonight,” she said.

“I figured you’d feel guilty so I asked them to come back tomorrow,” Jason said. “Oh, honey, no. You didn’t have to do that. Sunday’s our family day.” “They’re family, and Maryanne has to work on Monday so they won’t stay long,” he explained. When they reached the bedroom, Jason closed the door, holding on to Harley. “Let me get my pj’s on,” she said. “You can wait for one more minute,” he said. “I need to hear about your plan. What led up to it? Who else passed through our doors that might be a potential wife for me?” “Jay, I’m so tired, can’t this wait?” “Just tell me. Was Kathy from last week at the shore also meant for me?” “Yes she was, but no worries because you’re not her type.” “No way! I thought all women loved me,” he said, teasing. “Well, not this time. Why? I suppose she was your type.” “I thought she was cute in her cowboy boots,” he said. “Wasn’t that what you wanted?” “Well, yes, I guess I did think that at the time. But it’s a non-issue because she called me and said thanks, but no thanks. Now Anne, Anne liked you.” “She came out and said that?” he asked. “No, but I could tell. It’s too bad you don’t like her.” “Ugh, I felt like if I was to switch sexes that’s what I would look like. No thank you.” “You’re impossible,” Harley said, laughing. “Your brother is on my bad list, by the way. He either apologizes or I don’t care if I see him again. It would serve him right. I never met a more selfish person than Dave and unfortunately, I have to add Bea to the list.” “Why? Because she was jealous of Anne?” “Yes. Why take it out on me?” “One thing I noticed that no matter how dire someone’s circumstances are, people just go on with their lives around you. That includes getting angry for stupid reasons.” “Bea was my best friend. Is my best friend. I don’t get it.” “My brother is giving her a rough way to go right now and unfortunately, it looks like you might be taking some of the brunt of it,” Jason said. “The only way I know to

protect you is to forbid them to come over. Is that what you want?” “No. Not at all. It would be too difficult on the girls and on Fran.” “My mother is ready to move in,” he said. “Well, we might need her before long. Look I have to go to bed. Get out there and make sure Albie is being a gentleman.” Jason kissed her and left the room, waving before he shut the door. Harley sat on the bed for a few more minutes, trying to move to get ready for bed. She was as tired as she could remember. Recalling the weeks after Angie was born, a one year old and a newborn to take care of, Harley didn’t know if she’d make it. Too proud to ask for help, she was so exhausted she once slept until nine in the morning, awaking to two screaming babies with sodden diapers whose regular waking time was six. Or another time, working through midnight shift when there had been a bad snowstorm and nurses couldn’t get to work to do their reliefs. By the next morning, her father-in-law was waiting for her in his four-wheel drive pickup truck, ready to rescue her. Once she got home, her family curled up in front of the fireplace to watch TV while the snow continued to fall, but Harley couldn’t sleep. It felt like it took her months to recover from one night of lost sleep. No matter how much sleep she was getting, she was still tired, and the physical sensations of exhaustion were a constant reminder of what was happening to her body. Once again, the cycle of grief segued from despair to anger. Why?

Forcing herself to preform her nightly routine, she finally rose and went into the bathroom. Striping off her clothing, a shower before bed was becoming crucial now, not just to wash the seepage from the wounds that were continuously popping up on her chest, but so she could smell as fresh as possible for her husband when he finally came to bed. She knew she had an odor; it was cancer sores and liver metastasis, oozing from her pores. Certain knowledge would be for her private awareness; she wouldn’t talk about it or share it with her family. They’d figure it out soon enough. Dressed in her pajamas, she made the additional effort to clean up after herself, leaving the bathroom pristine, wrapping her dressings up carefully and disposing of them in an old grocery bag. In the morning she’d be sure to empty the trash, hiding what

she could that might be offensive, especially if she died in her sleep. The bed was calling her name, so she hurried through the last items, collapsing into the bed, asleep in seconds.

Christmas

Chapter 21 Saturday before Christmas dawned with a surprise; a light dusting of snow on the ground throughout southeastern Pennsylvania. The family awake long before Harley, by eleven Bennie voiced concerns. “I’m going to check on Mom,” she told Jason. “Let her sleep,” Jason replied, cleaning up the breakfast mess. “This isn’t normal.” “She said she was exhausted last night, Bennie. I think this might be the way it’s going to be from now on.” “It makes me sick,” she cried. “Is this the countdown? Is Mom dying?” “I hope not,” Jason said honestly, embracing her. “I’ll call her doctor Monday.” It was the standard response now, meant to quell fears, but useless; there was nothing that could be done for Harley. As he sat on the bed Friday night, watching her moving around the room, he tried to memorize every thing about her. Harley was still a striking woman; her hair was gone, but soft, white peach fuzz grew back, never getting longer than an inch. Her head got cold at night so she wore the crocheted caps with ruffles around the edges that Tina made for her. The caps reminded Jason of old-fashioned boudoir caps that the colonial ladies might have worn. On Harley’s head, it was just cute, but he withheld commenting, knowing how vain she’d become. Freckles were evident through the pallor and because of them she still looked like the young woman he’d married twenty years before. Gathering pajamas, she dressed in the bathroom away from Jason’s prying eyes. Jason vacillated between being sad and being grateful, seeing how thin she’d become was upsetting enough to destroy his desire to see her naked any longer. Walking out after a while dressed in long johns, she caught his eye and laughed.

“I guess I’ve reached an all time low,” she said, pulling the pant legs out from her sides. “Is this too much?” “As long as you’re warm, I think it’s just fine. You’re cute,” he answered, smiling. “It’s not a union suit, is it?” “Ha! No, they’re really pajamas,” she said, turning around to prove there was no drop seat. Pulling the waistband out to show it was two pieces Jason saw her belly, swollen to a four month pregnancy size. Trying not to grimace, he wondered if she’d noticed and was in denial. Choosing not to say anything, it was just a matter of time before it would impede her breathing. Appetite diminished, Harley was never a big eater and Jason thought it was the course of cancer, not only the pressure on her internal organs from all the fluid buildup. Going to her side of the bed, he pulled the bedding back. “Get in, Sleeping Beauty,” he said. “I’m so tired, I can’t wait,” Harley replied, yawning. Sliding in next to Jason, he embraced her and she snuggled next to him, burrowing down into the comforter. “I love you, Harley,” he said, kissing her head. “Thank you, Jay. I love you, too,” she answered. Within seconds, she was sleeping; her labored breathing seriously concerning for Jason. Too early for him to go to sleep, he’d keep watch, and if her breathing became worse, he’d insist she go to the hospital to have fluid drained off her abdomen, obvious the IV meds not doing the trick any longer. Jason had made a decision to do all the Christmas decorating and shopping so Harley didn’t have to worry about it. The simple things were what seemed to matter to her now. One vivid encounter a few years before she was diagnosed came to mind; she was going to stop by the store on her way home from work and in a rare occurrence, Jason got home before she did. The house looked dark and lonely when he pulled into the garage although the girls were there with his mother. “Let’s put the lights on,” he said, taking his coat off. “We can enjoy them earlier each night. Pretty soon, the sun will set at four-thirty.” Harley had decorated the house by herself, placing electric candles in all the

windows, even those facing their neighbor’s garage and the backyard, stringing white fairy lights on the bushes and along the split rail fencing. He hadn’t discovered timers yet, and she went around and manually switched on the lights every night when she got home from work. On this particular night when she drove up to their house and saw the lights on, the joy it brought her, that someone else was contributing to making Christmas, set the tone for the entire holiday. “All I did was turn the stinkin’ lights on, Harley. You’re acting like I performed a miracle or something,” he said. But later, he realized it was his effort of helping her that made the difference. If that small act reaped such a huge response, he hoped taking charge of the tree and other decorating would do the same. Bennie was working at her part-time sporting goods store job, but Tina and Angie were in the den reading. “Girls, would you like to pick up a tree?” Tina hoped up from the recliner, her eyes sparkling. “You mean the Christmas tree?” “Wow, this will be a first,” Angie said. “Should I be worried?” “No, not at all. Mom’s in bed already so I thought we’d surprise her by having all the decorating done tonight. What do you say?” “Tina, doesn’t Albie have a pickup truck?” Angie asked. “He does. Should I call him?” she asked, directing the question at Jason. “Yes, why don’t you? You can get a gigantic tree if Albie is willing to put it in his truck,” Jason said. Albie agreed to drive the girls to buy a tree. Devon would stay with Jason and help him sort through ten large bins of Christmas decorations. “Daddy, we need to do this in the mud room,” she said. “Why’s that?” Jason asked, frowning, preferring to drag everything out to the open den. “Mommy doesn’t like the mess in the rest of the house. She said it gives her a headache.” “How do you know that?” “She told me last year,” Devon said. “I was always her helper.”

“Were you?” Jason asked, listening to her carefully. Everyone put a lot of effort into trying to protect Devon, and superficially she seemed unaware of the goings on around the Jones house. But after listening to her, Jason wondered if she wasn’t more aware of what was happening than they gave her credit for. “Will you be my helper this year?” Jason asked. “Are you doing it because Mommy is going to die?” The sensation that someone had thrown a bucket of hot water at him, Jason swooped her up in his arms. How to answer that? “She is very sick,” he said, sidestepping. “But if we help with the Christmas decorations, it might make her very happy.” Devon put her arms around Jason’s neck, hugging him. “I’m sad, Daddy.” “Me, too, princess. Me too.”

Spring

Chapter 22 Maryanne took early retirement after all. “I have a little time left to be with my daughter,” she told her boss. “I’ll regret it if I don’t leave now. The few hundred dollars a month extra retirement income I’ll get by waiting isn’t worth it.” Melissa and Kelly drove down to the retirement party in Delaware with Jason and the girls. The sisters would return with Maryanne driving her own car, packed for an extended stay, until… No one expected Harley to go, although she pretended she was going to attend up until the last moment. “Maybe I’m too tired after all,” she said. Fran and Joe would take her to the shore, bundled up in the back of the van. He drove slowly for her, avoiding the bumps in the road. “Are you comfortable back there?” he’d call out every fifteen minutes or so. Harley would answer, “Great! I feel like I’m in a limousine.” When they arrived, Joe carried her to her favorite spot; the lounge chair under the tortured oak, its newly leafed out branches shading the warmth of the sun. Sitting with her face angled to the light, nothing felt as good as the heat on her skin. “Here you go,” Fran said, placing her ereader and a thermos of coffee on a stump she was using as a side table. The ereader would go unused, but she still wanted it there, just in case. “I like to have the option, but it seems a shame to spend time reading about someone else’s fantasy when I can watch mine unfolding.” The hours flew by, Fran trying not to hover, but offering Harley sips of sugared water, or chicken broth, anything she would consent to try. Occasionally, she’d make the walk inside to use the bathroom, leaning on Fran’s arm. She could still manage alone, Fran hovering outside the bathroom door. “It just got this bad,” Fran told Bea. “Jason called me last night and said he thinks the

time is getting close.” Bea cried, but after the confrontation the weekend before Christmas, Harley didn’t ask for help from Bea, slowly extracting herself from needing her, feeling surely that it had hastened her impending death, the idea that a lifetime friendship would choose that moment to end as well. “I’m so sorry for the girls,” Bea said. “When it’s all said and done, they’ll need you more,” Fran said. “Don’t pull away from them, too.” “Is that what you think I’ve done?” she asked. “Isn’t it? Over a stranger,” Fran said, critically. Dave had clued his mother in with the details; the dating service, his jealousy of Jason. “I thought I’d apologized sufficiently,” Bea said, defensive. “When she’s gone, you’re going to regret it,” Fran said. “You should get your family here for the weekend. I don’t think there’ll be many more with Harley at the shore.” “Her mother will be there,” Bea said, making excuses. “There’s no room.” “Then make the effort and just come for the day.” “I’ll ask Dave,” Bea said. “What’s she doing now?” “The only thing she can do,” Fran said, a sob catching in her throat. “Sittin’ in a lounge chair in the yard, waiting for her family to get back.” Bea tried to imagine Harley no longer able to stroll on the beach, taking a dip in the ocean in her cut-off jeans and an old bra. She pictured Harley finding treasure to add to Bea’s collections of junk at local flea markets and garage sales, or in the delivery room with her when Michael was born, holding on to Dave, crying as the baby emerged from her body. The last months had been hell without her best friend, but the wall had been erected the night Anne visited, Anne who meant nothing to either woman, who would never be heard from again. “Okay, I’ll get Dave to come,” Bea told Fran. “But just so you know I have tried to talk to Harley.” “Harley’s not all there,” Fran snapped. “Get over it. You just show up in a case like this and don’t expect nothin’ in return.”

“She doesn’t seem to be in much pain,” Maryanne said after spending a half an hour with her daughter before bedtime. “She never complains of pain,” Jason said. “Just that she’s tired. You can see how weak she is.” No one addressed the change in personality, it was too upsetting. Harley always had a smile on her face now. She would listen intently to whatever was being said to her and nod, pointing her finger. “Yes!” was a standard reply to everything. Or “I agree!” The weekend was pleasant, if superficial. No one wanted to say anything too upsetting, ignoring the obvious. On Sunday, teetering between Bea and Melissa, Harley walked to the beach, and stood looking out to sea for a while. One stray tear made its way down her cheek, but when Melissa went to wipe it away, Harley claimed it was caused by the wind. “What month is it again?” she asked. “It feels like fall.” “It’s March,” Melissa said. “And you’re right, it feels like autumn.” “You know I’m dying, right? This is the last time I’ll see the ocean.” Melissa and Bea bit their tongues, allowing her to speak. “It’s a perfect day for it,” Melissa finally said. “I love you, Sister,” Harley said.

Rarely, the expression of awareness would spark on her face, almost terror. The following Friday night, it happened. Bolting upright in bed, she called for Jason, who came running. “Where are the girls?” she asked, urgency in her voice. “They’re all here, safe,” he’d said, holding her, wondering if the old Harley was back momentarily. “Ask them in here,” she’d demand, and he’d call right away, the four of them running to the bedroom. “Everyone, quick, tell me what you’ve been up to,” she’d beg, aware at times like this that her lucidity was sporadic. She’d let them fill in the gaps of her memory, asking how school was, Bennie’s job, how many weeks till prom or Angie’s graduation. Devon would snuggle with her, knowing they’d spend the last aware moments in each

other’s arms while Harley read to her in a small voice she could barely hear. “Angie, are you going to the prom?” she asked, wanting to see the dresses the girls were wearing, both made by Tina, admiring them, and the shoes, expensive designer shoes Maryanne had found dirt cheap at a thrift store in Rehoboth Beach. The family would stay on the bed with Harley while she read the book to Devon, and slowly her voice would disappear and the vacant stare take over once again right before she fell asleep. Later that night, the family had movie night like they always did, piled on the big couch. Devon had fallen asleep already and was curled up between Tina and Albie. Albie leaned over and got another piece of pizza from the box on the coffee table, surrounded with empty soda cans and used paper plates. In the old days, Harley would have cleared away the mess, but without her they’d leave it until the movie was over. “Mom would hate it that we bring the box out here,” Bennie said. “She’d say, ‘Let’s pretend we’re civilized and keep the box in the kitchen.’” “She’s not making it to graduation, is she Dad?” Angie asked. “She might, sweetheart,” he said, thinking at the rate she was going, slowly torturing herself and everyone around her, she might last forever. “Let’s wait and see.” Angie frowned, looking at her father. “Do we have a choice?” Sighing, Jason patted her on the back. “You know what I mean. Poor Mom.” “Yes, how sad,” she said before bursting into tears.

Exhausted, Jason did what he could to keep Harley comfortable when he was home, the family moving forward day by day. If Harley was aware of the effort he was making, she didn’t say anything and he didn’t point it out. Becoming the master of taking it one day at a time, he wasn’t aware of how numb he’d become. Putting the finishing touches on the basement remodel, Dave finally spoke up. “I feel like I’m with a bunch of zombies when I’m here. What’s going on?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jason said, in denial. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you’re about as vacant as Harley is, Jay. What the hell?” “Fuck off, Dave,” he shouted. “This is the best I can do. What? Aren’t I doing enough

to make you jealous anymore?” “Knock it off you two,” Joe hissed. “You’re both acting like jerks. Dave, leave if you’re not going to work. Jason, it’s time you took a break.” Both men heeded their father’s words; Jason going upstairs to see how Harley was doing while Dave vacuumed drywall compound dust. The last piece of drywall had been taped, compound sanded, the whole place ready for paint. Harley was sitting up in a recliner in the den leafing through a decorating magazine, more awake than she had been in days. “Would you like to come downstairs and see what we’ve done?” “Is it finished?” she asked. Jason nodded. “Just needs paint and then we have to decide about the flooring; carpet, vinyl or hardwood.” “Help me out of this chair. I can’t wait to see it.” It had been weeks since she’d last tried to navigate the steps. “Do you want me to carry you?” he asked, uncertain. “Ah, no, I don’t think so. I’ll walk,” she said, laughing, forgetting he usually carried her everywhere she went as long as he was home. “I’ll take it slow.” He went in front of her and she held on to his shoulders, looking down, slowly taking one step at a time. “It’s not so bad,” she said. “I feel like I need to move around a little bit more than I have been.” The men stopped what they were doing when she reached the bottom step. “You made it,” Joe said, uncomfortable around sickness, but happy she was there. Harley looked around, pleased at the finished product. “This is really nice,” she said. “You guys did a great job. Thank you so much.” She nodded at Dave, giving him a little grin and he nodded back, his expression bland, petrified to be near her, realizing how close to death she must be. Joe noticed him and made a mental note that he needed to speak to Dave soon. Dave had never asked Harley for forgiveness for squealing about LoveMatch.com to Jason. At the last weekend at the shore, it had been cordial between Bea and Harley, if not a little cool, but Dave kept his distance. Now she didn’t seem to notice the tension between brothers down in the basement.

“This will be a great space,” she said. “I can see family gatherings down here. What about a home theater?” “We could do that,” Jason replied. “It’s probably the best use for it.” They discussed several decisions that still needed to be made before Harley said she was getting tired and wanted to go back up to her recliner. “Thank you again,” she said, waving over her shoulder at Dave as Jason helped her mount the steps. “Wow, that basement is pretty impressive,” she said once she was back in her chair. “Not a safe place for a teen couple, however,” she whispered. “I thought the same thing,” Jason said. “We might drag our feet finishing it a little bit until Albie is safely in Michigan.” They laughed, parents sharing a moment, a rare event lately. “You seem like you feel better right this minute,” Jason said, carefully choosing words. “I do,” she said. “But it’s fake, you know? A few minutes, maybe hours of awareness, to see the kids and hear about their lives is just a tease. I’ve been wishing lately that I hadn’t made the goal to see Angie graduate so public. I’m ready to die.” Like he’d been slapped, guilt flooded Jason. He was ready for it, too. Ready to be done with having a cancer victim for a wife, wanting her to be the way she used to be, or to be at peace. The toll Harley’s situation was taking on the family was grueling. And the awfulness he felt, so callous, was mind-blowing. But he wasn’t always so heartless. Most of the time, he was despondent thinking of losing her, on his knees crying out to God, going to Mass and lighting candles, begging God to keep her alive. And then he’d hear her labored breathing at night, or go into the treatment room with her at the hospital to watch while the doctor stuck a large bore needle into her belly draining thousands of cc’s of yellowish fluid. She was always better afterward, but the frequency with which it needed to be done was increasing, draining important nutrients off as well. And the day before, Thursday night, Maryanne told him she could tell by Harley’s pee that her bilirubin was increasing and it wouldn’t be long before jaundice set in. “What do you think? What’s your nursing assessment?” He asked with desperation.

“You worked with all of those sick, old people. How much longer can she hold on?” “She’s waiting for Angie’s graduation,” Maryanne said. “She’s perseverating about it, even when she’s with it.” Jason had tried to keep the girls away from her when she did it, repeating over and over, moaning almost, I have to see Angie graduate, please God, I have to see her graduation. “How much longer can it go on?” But Maryanne shook her head, not wanting to be responsible for hastening her daughter’s death, but knowing the toll it was taking on both her body and her family might be irreparable. “I am ready to tell her to let it go,” Jason said. “But I’m afraid of hurting her feelings.” “Can’t we stage a graduation?” Maryanne asked. Jason looked off, contemplating it. It wouldn’t take much to pull off; the family gathered around, a cap and gown, a diploma framed. “Oh, I just thought of something; the prom. She is as excited about the girls’ proms as if she were going herself.” “Why can’t they go through the motions of the prom, too? We can tell her we’re having a dress rehearsal for her, and then if she lasts until the real thing, she won’t think we were trying to pull a fast one over her.” Maryanne put her hand on Jason’s shoulder. “She’s not going to last until Easter, Jason, let alone until June.”

Chapter 23 The plan was made. They told Harley about the dress rehearsal and she was happy they were going to do it for her. “I know I don’t have much longer, but I have to hope to last, don’t I? I can’t just give up.” “I don’t want you to give up, Harley,” Jason said, embracing her. “I just want you to relax.” The girls were wonderful. Tina spent the next weekend finishing the dresses, doing all the hand sewing sitting next to Harley. “Mom, tell me again the story about when you were thirteen,” Tina said, pulling the needle through the hem of Angie’s dress. “When I was thirteen my mom taught me to use her sewing machine, didn’t you Mom?” she asked Maryanne. “I did. It was my mother’s machine. Do you remember what it looked like?” Harley closed her eyes for a minute, remembering being a young girl and needing a dress, walking along the highway into town and buying a simple pattern, three yards of inexpensive cotton fabric, and thread to match. “The machine was black and had gold lettering,” Harley said, seeing the machine in her mind’s eye. “I remember how proud I was that I could figure out the bobbin. I think Daddy helped me cut the dress pieces out. My dad was home with us a lot.” “I remember feeling so sorry for him because he was in so much pain,” Harley said. “No offense Mom, but I never wanted that for my girls. And look what I gave them instead.” Mortified, Tina leaned against her mother and started to cry, the parallel between having the war wounded father and a mother dying of breast cancer jarring and raw. “Life just happens,” Maryanne said, patting Tina’s back. “It’s out of our control. The best thing we can do is roll with the punches. Just like you girls are doing. I never saw such a bunch of wonderful kids, unless it was my own girls.”

“Were we wonderful, Mom?” Harley whispered, her head was against the recliner back, and in that position, her bone structure was dominant, cheeks sunken, and Maryanne could barely stand looking at her it was so terribly sad. “Oh, my yes,” she said, holding her sorrow inside. “Your father and I used to congratulate ourselves on what great children we had. There just weren’t enough adjectives to describe how great you were. I know that sounds like a bunch of garbage, but I am sincere. You all worked hard, no one gave us a minute’s trouble.” “My girls are the same,” Harley said. “My Bennie and Angie, and of course, my Tina.” Pulling her closely with what little strength she had, Harley suddenly knew she was at the end. “Mom, ask Jason to come in,” she said. Maryanne left the room while Tina stayed next to Harley with her arms around her. “What’s up?” he asked, crouching down, noticing Tina’s swollen face and Maryanne’s grief-stricken countenance. “You don’t need to go to the trouble of the rehearsal, Jay. I’m ready to go.” He took her hands in his, ignoring her last words, not acknowledging what she had just admitted because it was too surreal and he was in denial. “Don’t say that. Because it’s no trouble at all, and you still have the chance of seeing the real thing.” “No, I don’t think so. I’m too tired, anyway. Thanks Jason, I appreciate it. I want to see the others, too. Even Devon.” Jason stood up and signaled for Maryanne to follow him to the kitchen. “Do you think she’s on to something or is this delusional?” “I think she knows her own body,” Maryanne said. “It won’t hurt anything if she wants to say goodbye now.” Shrugging his shoulders, he walked to the back of the house to get the others. “Can I get you anything, dear?” Maryanne asked, knowing she was hovering, wanting to run. “Just sit down, Mom,” Harley answered, speaking difficult. “Sit here close to me. I didn’t want to say anything to Jason but I’m having trouble seeing. The light hurts my eyes but it seems dark in here.” “It is dark out today,” Maryanne said. “I’ll turn a light on over here so it won’t be too

bright.” “No Mom, I think my vision is going. I can still hear but I can hardly see anything,” she said. “I think I’m getting close.” “Okay, honey,” Maryanne said, sitting close to her. “You would know. What are you feeling?” “I feel numb, physically. But I’m feeling anxious, scared about the girls again. It’s persistent. No matter what I tell myself, I’m worried Jason won’t be able to handle it alone.” “Will it help you to know I’ve told him I’ll move in here permanently?” Harley grasped her hand. “Really Mom? That makes me feel so much better.” “I won’t leave until they ask me to. Between Fran and me, I think everything will be okay, except they’ll miss you terribly.” Harley put her head back again and closed her eyes, a hint of a smile. Soon Jason returned with the girls, all in tears after telling them his fears. He was carrying Devon. “I explained that Mommy wanted to see them and that she is ready to go,” he said, the last words blubbering as he lost control. “Oh, I’m so sorry girls.” “It’s okay,” Harley said, opening her eyes. “We’re all sad. But I need to say goodbye to you now while I still can. Sometimes when you’re sick, it’s almost too difficult to speak and right now I feel strong enough. Come here, Devi.” Reaching out for her, Devon crawled up on Tina’s lap, snuggling next to Harley. “My mom just told me that my sisters and I were wonderful. You used the word great, didn’t you Mom? “It means so much to me to know what my mother and dad thought of me, and I want to tell you how wonderful I think you all are. Daddy knows where my notebooks are. There’s one for each of you. I’ve been writing to you since the day…since I found out I might not always be with you. I’m lucky because I had all of this time. These past few years have been the best of my life, watching you. I haven’t had to worry about taking it for granted, either. You’ve been so wonderful. Like my mom says, you’re all great. “I love you so much. Thank you for being my girls. Jason, thank you for giving me four great girls.” After her little speech, more words than she’d spoken in weeks, Harley’s head felt

like she couldn’t keep it up anymore, like her neck was about to give out. “I have to put my head back now, but if you want to say anything to me feel free. I don’t think I’m going anywhere right away, so we can visit until we need to sleep.” Keeping her deepest fears inside, Harley had given up control of her house and family the weekend her mother moved in with them. It was taking so much effort to make sure everything was the way she liked it, letting her mother and Jason take over was freeing. One Friday night a few weeks before, she’d slid out of bed; holding on to the walls as she crept through the house while everyone else was fast asleep. She saw the mess in the family room, the pizza boxes and paper plates, soda bottles everywhere, but it didn’t make her feel negative at all. Instead, she saw her children sleeping every which way; an unfamiliar body that she later discovered was one of Bea and Dave’s girls there for the night. Maybe it was the fact that they’d brought the child over to the house and didn’t come in to see her that took precedence over the pizza mess. The anger that invoked was a panacea to the pain of having to leave her family forever. Focusing on anger at Bea and Dave was a good substitute for heartbreak. “I thought they’d asked for forgiveness?” Fran asked Jason. “Too little, too late,” Jason said. “She’s very sad, don’t get me wrong. She hoped Bea would be there for our girls.” “She still might be,” Fran said. “It’s not over yet.” “I’m not sure I want them around,” Jason said. “All this over something so stupid.” “Well, you didn’t hear it from me, but I think Dave is going to move out,” Fran said, saddened. “Oh no, I’m sorry to hear it. It’s not news Harley needs, either.”

Not having Harley to confide in as her marriage crumbled was horrible for Bea. At first, they blamed their troubles on Dave’s jealousy of his brother, the potential he had to be free after Harley died, to date again; selfish, perverse, but he thought he was being honest. But the truth is he didn’t love his wife because he didn’t love himself, and was so self-absorbed that leaving his marriage was the only alternative. With Harley gone, Bea’s absence from their family gatherings wouldn’t be so noticeable.

That first weekend in March, after their walk on the beach, thoughts of Harley haunted Bea all day. Everything she did reminded her of something they’d done together or plans they’d made. The simple act of putting short ribs in the crockpot pushed her over the edge, and she broke down crying, trying to remember Harley’s trick for skimming the fat off. Reaching for the telephone, she would swallow her pride and call Fran, who invariably admonished her for allowing the situation to deescalate. “We’re on our way over there now,” Fran said. “Jason just called and said the end is near and Harley wants to say goodbye to us.” At that, Fran broke down again. “I’m so sad; I can’t imagine what Maryanne is feeling! And the girls, oh my God. Poor Devi.” Bea cried, listening to Fran talk, her anguish over having to see her son suffering, too, losing his wife at such a young age. “I better hang up. Pop is waiting for me.” “Give everyone my love,” Bea said, sniffing. “I will not,” Fran shouted out. “You and Dave better get over there as fast as you can and tell them yourself, and make amends while you’re at it. Trust me; you’ll be haunted by this for the rest of your life if you don’t act now while she’s still alive.” “Okay,” Bea sobbed. “I’ll think about it. Maybe I’ll call Jason and ask him if it’s okay.” “You do that,” Fran replied, defeated. Dave leaving his family was another blow she was ill-prepared to face. “I’m hanging up now.” Joe was waiting in the car for her, a grim look on his face. “What’s the hold up?” he asked. “Our daughter-in-laws are getting on my nerves,” she answered. Shaking his head in exasperation, Joe was afraid if he approached Dave about his behavior there would be no holding back. “Where the hell did I fail?” “Times like this always bring out the worst in everyone. Dave and Bea would have gotten a divorce eventually. It doesn’t have anything to do with Jason and Harley. If Dave wants to place the blame on them, he’s doing it to cover his own inadequacies.” “Very good, Mother,” Joe said, glancing at her with admiration. “Don’t get too excited, dear. I read it somewhere.” “In the plan for my life, having divorced kids was never a consideration. I wanted

our boys and their families to take over the cottage when we died like we did when my mother died.” “Divorce? What about Harley? She’s so young. It’s my worst nightmare.” “We’ll probably have to get used to new women,” Joe said, disgusted. “Bea and Harley were like sisters.” “Yeah, well that’s over with,” Fran said. “They’re both stubborn. It’ll be so sad if Bea doesn’t stop with the pride and make peace with Harley.” After talking to Fran, Bea wandered around the house, thinking about what she’d been told. Harley was dying. All those years and months of planning for her family after she died was coming to pass. In spite of their differences, Bea had been an important ally to Harley. She’d never betrayed her, unlike Dave who obviously couldn’t be trusted. Hating to have to approach Dave about Harley, going over to their house without him would be looked upon by the family as disrespect. They would have to present a unified front until the final divorce papers were signed. Watching TV alone in the den, Dave had already received a text message from his mother. Your sister-in-law is dying. Jason needs us now. Put aside your jealousies and be there for him. Vacantly staring at the screen, Dave didn’t know if he had the courage to go to his brother’s house. The whole death thing was something he wasn’t comfortable with, but to add it to their strained relationship would be difficult. Looking up, he saw his wife standing in the doorway. “What?” he asked, wishing she’d leave him alone. “I just got off the phone with your mother and it’s not good,” she said. “We need to go over there.” “What good will it do for us to be there? I’m certainly not the one Jason wants around right now.” “I’ve been thinking about it and we should be there. They’ve been our best friends for all our lives, you and Jason and me and Harley. To abandon them now would be unforgivable. Let’s get over our pride and go.” “What about the kids?” “I’ll call Jason and ask him.”

Bea dialed the number and then contemplated hanging up when Jason finally answered, sounding terrible. “It’s Bea,” she said. “Your mom just called.” Silence on the other end, but then she heard a distinct sniff and her heart broke. Jason was crying. She hoped they weren’t too late. “What can I do for you, Bea?” he finally asked. “We’d like to come over,” she replied. “We didn’t know if bringing the family would be too much.” “No, bring them. The girls need their cousins around.” Afraid to ask what was happening, she simply left it at that, telling him they’d leave right then. After they said goodbye, Jason reluctantly went back to the den. The girls were still crowded around their mother, talking about events to come, Harley nodding her head. When she found the strength, letting them know what her hopes were, reminding them that she’d written out guidelines for each girl. “For you, too, Devi. When you’re a big girl, you only have to check the notebook. You can read what my plans are for you, too.” “Like what, Mommy?” she asked. “Well, I hope you discover what you want to be when you grow up. It should be something you love doing. And that you can always ask your sisters for their advice on any issue that should come up.” “Like what to wear on a school day?” “Yes, that’s a perfect example!” “I want Tina to help me,” she said, looking apologetically at Angie and Bennie. They laughed, Angie and Bennie not offended. “It’s okay cutie,” Bennie said. “I don’t like my clothes either.” “What else, Mom?” Tina asked. “Well, I hope you’ll reach out to each other. I think of my mother everyday and only have to pick up the phone to call her. If you miss me, call each other.” Glancing up at Jason, Harley smiled, and he saw a glimpse of the old Harley, his heart breaking all over again.

“I’m so glad we had four girls,” she said. “Thank you, Jason.” Nodding at her, he was unable to speak for a moment. “Bea and Dave and the kids are on their way over,” he said. The door to the mudroom opened as Joe and Fran arrived. Maryanne took them aside, explaining that she was having a rare, extended awake time with the girls. “We’ll stay out here. Do you have any coffee?” “No, I didn’t mean not to see her,” Maryanne said, squeezing their hands. “Go, go. She’ll want to see you.” Pushing them into the den, the girls rushed to their grandparents with a reception that was more than they expected. Bennie offered her grandmother the ottoman next to Harley’s recliner. “Here Granny Fran, sit down next to Mom.” Harley lifted her arms to hug Fran, the effort it was taking visible on her face. “Fran, thank you so much for everything,” she whispered. “You have been the best mother-inlaw. Thank you for caring for all my girls.” Mumbling an acknowledgement, Fran was uncomfortable with Harley’s repeated praise but knew this might be what she construed as her last chance to say what was on her mind. “And Pop Joe, you’re so wonderful. The girls love you. Thank you for taking such good care of us every summer.” The effort to talk exhausted Harley, her eyes closed, head back a sign the audience was over for a moment. Holding on to Devon and Tina’s hands, they didn’t move until she relaxed, her normally irregular breathing becoming more pronounced. “Why don’t you girls get ready for Sally and Amanda and Michael?” Maryanne suggested. They’d decided not to have hospice come in as long as Harley was awake. If the progression of her life took the expected course, a time would be coming soon where she would lapse into a coma. Maryanne and Jason could do for her whatever hospice could do until then. Andy Forman came through with morphine, but so far she hadn’t needed any pain medication.

Chapter 24 Improbably, Bea would become Harley’s complete caregiver, taking over from Maryanne and Jason, more than just giving them a reprieve. She was doing penance. The way it happened, on that weekend that Fran admonished Bea about making peace with Harley, they drove over as soon they could get their children together. Silent during the drive over to his brother’s house, Dave struggled with emotions he couldn’t name, feelings that confused and embarrassed him. If he was jealous of Jason, it was the most immature, ridiculous reaction. Undertaking self-examination over the previous months, Dave realized his brother’s tragedy had revealed a character flaw of mammoth proportions in him. Now his marriage was in the toilet. After discovering what Harley had been up to, seeking a new wife for Jason, Dave’s curiosity got the best of him and he joined a dating service, too. The result was dismal, but he wasn’t giving up. There had to be someone out there for him. He wasn’t at the place yet to accept that he’d already found the right person and she was sitting next to him in the car. Pulling behind his father’s car, Dave looked in the review mirror at his children, the girls sad, Michael, quietly playing with a matchbox car. That was another thing. He hated it that his children were exposed to such depressing circumstances, even the shore house tainted now by death. “Let’s just get inside,” he said, shoving the car door open with his shoulder. Bea dreaded what was possible in Dave’s current state of mind; he could pick a fight with Jason, or start acting out in front of everyone. He’d been like a wild man the past week, barely able to make eye contact with her, let alone be civil. “Can we wait to hate each other until after Harley dies?” Bea asked. “Yes. Our lives have revolved around her for the past two years. What’s another couple of weeks?” Shocked at his cruelty, Bea hardly recognized the man Dave had become. He stamped

up the driveway and let himself into the house. Bea waited at the car as the children piled out with their belongings, quiet, sad. Death was part of life, she reasoned. There was no way to protect them from Harley’s suffering. It was up to the girls to find their way through it, offering support to their cousins, realizing how fragile life was. It pained her to recognize that her husband was setting such a dismal example for them. “We’re here,” Dave said sarcastically to his mother. “God forbid we don’t all suffer along with everyone else.” “David!” Fran hissed. “Please, you’re going to hurt her feelings. She can hear everything, and I mean everything.” Even his posture was intimidating; he was standing like a wrestler with his chest puffed out and fists at his side. “Where is everybody?” “Jason is downstairs with your dad and the children, setting up a ping pong table. Harley’s in the den with her mother.” Tiptoeing to the den, Dave didn’t really want to see Harley; he hadn’t seen her since her venture to the basement, and he tried not to stare; she was unrecognizable, so thin and frail looking. If he’d been more aware, he’d have realized she scared him. The whole concept of dying at any age was horrible, but at her young age? Unthinkable. Expecting her to be sleeping in her recliner, or out of it, not being able to see, it shocked him peeking around the corner that she was awake, and recognized his stocky figure in the doorway. “Dave? Is that you?” she said, struggling to sit forward. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the room, closer. “It’s me, Harley,” he said. She reached out her trembling hand; he could see the effort it was taking. “God, it’s so good to see you,” she said, slumping back against the recliner. “I’ve missed you.” That was it for Dave, he crumbled, falling to his knees at the side of her recliner. “Oh Harley, I’m so sorry. I’ve been such an asshole.” “Yes, but that’s okay. I didn’t expect anything more,” she said, smiling at her own attempt at sarcasm. It defused his anguish and he snorted, having to wipe his hand across his nose. “What can I do?” “Nothing, really,” she said in barely more than a whisper. He leaned closer to her.

“Just be there for Jason and the girls. I need to know they’re going to be okay, you know? So I can rest in peace.” “I’ll do that for you,” he said, hoping he was able to, grateful she didn’t ask him to not divorce Bea if she even knew about their problems. Bea walked in then, moved seeing Dave at Harley’s side, visibly moved to tears. “Can I come in?” she asked. Harley looked at her and put her head back again. “Hi, Bea,” she said. “Dave and I are just having a moment. But we’re finished.” The expression on Harley’s face wasn’t as welcoming for Bea as it had been for Dave. “Can I be alone with Bea?” she asked. Getting up from his kneeling position, Dave leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’ll go hunt down Jason,” he said. Harley nodded, unsmiling. Thinking clearly, knowing how dire her situation was, the anger she felt toward Bea strengthened her. Bea was going to have to do some restitution. “How are you doing?” Bea asked, sitting on the couch next to Harley’s recliner. Trying not to stare, the changes in her friend over the past days were dramatic and she could see for herself she wasn’t doing well. “I mean I know how you are.” “Yes, I’m doing as well as can be expected for someone who’s dying,” Harley said. “But I don’t have a lot of energy so I want to get this out before I have to take a nap. “How could you abandon me?” she asked, looking directly at Bea. “I’m sorry,” she said. “There’s no excuse. I don’t know. I guess I was just reacting to my own circumstances.” “Which are?” “We’re getting a divorce,” she answered. “Now?” “Well, yes, but not right now. We want to be here for you and Jason and the girls.” Harley put her head back and closed her eyes. “Why would you divorce him, Bea? Dave’s the love of your life.” “He’s divorcing me. He doesn’t love me. He claims he only married me because of you.”

“Me? What did I have to do with it?” “He claims he was always competing with Jason, and by marrying me, it gave him some leverage. You were so fabulous, if we were friends, I must be pretty great, too.” “He said that,” Harley replied, disbelieving. “You’ve been married almost as long as we’ve been. Why is this just coming up now?” “I guess because he was looking for an excuse to leave. I can’t read his mind. Nothing he’s said makes much sense, Harley. All I know is I took my anger out on you. It wasn’t fair, it was even cruel. But I’m sorry and I hope you can forgive me.” “Before it’s too late,” Harley added. “Yes, before it’s too late.” “Why can I hear Fran’s voice?” she asked, chuckling. “She did call me,” Bea admitted. “But I’ve been missing you so badly, I was going to get in touch anyway.” “Why now?” “I don’t know,” Bea said. “Everything I’ve done lately I wish I could commiserate with you about, every project I do at school, every meal I cook I want to discuss with you like I did in the old days.” “Why didn’t you call me?” “I didn’t feel right about it,” Bea said. They didn’t speak for a moment. “What’s going on with the candidates?” Harley shook her head. “Nothing’s going on. It was a stupid idea. Kathy doesn’t like Jason and Jason doesn’t like Anna so it was a waste of our time.” “It was fun,” Bea said. “Now Dave is doing it, too.” “He is?” Harley asked. “He must be having some kind of adult situational crisis. That’s not the Dave I know.” “Well he’s looking. I actually wanted to go through the contacts with him, but he wouldn’t let me.” Harley’s interest was piqued. “Really? You’d do that?” “Why, yes! I wish I could choose someone who would be a good stepmother to my kids.” She fell back against the back of the couch. “The thought of him getting involved with some floozy, having to allow him to take the kids overnight or for days at a time

with a woman I don’t know makes me a little nutty.” “I feel your pain,” Harley said. Bea grabbed her hand. “I know you do, Harley. The only difference is Jason really loves you. And I’ll be here to be tortured by Dave’s girlfriends.” They sat together in silence for a while. Bea thought Harley was sleeping, but she was still awake, thinking. “Bea, I’m getting tired.” “Okay, I’ll leave you alone,” she said, getting up. “No, stay with me. I mean I’m getting tired of being here, of living. I can see it’s not good for my girls to have to watch me failing.” “Harley, they’ll take you anyway they can,” she said. “They love you so much. It is hard on them, but it will be harder when you go.” It was just the right thing to say, not denying her predicament or the anguish it would cause when the time finally came. “It’s okay to let go, Harley,” she whispered. “I’ll miss you so much. The last weeks away from you, I thought of you and how you impacted my life. It’s going to be terrible without you. But I’ll live. So will the girls.” “I’ve missed you, too. Will you stay with me?” “Yes, of course,” Bea said, realizing what she was being asked. “I think I’ll feel better when I go if you’re with me,” Harley said. “I hope I’m aware of it. I mean, I feel so close now, I can feel it in my body, my feet and hands, I know they must be purple, I can barely see unless I’m right in your face. I know I smell.” “Harley, you don’t smell.” “It’s because my mother is a fanatic about it with the dressing changes and the soap and water. I’m lucky I have any skin left.” “Well, there are some things you shouldn’t worry about and that’s one of them,” Bea said. “Will you take care of me?” Harley asked. “I hate to ask it of you, but I can’t ask my mother. She’s come undone. I don’t want Jason’s last memories having to wipe my ass.” “I’ll take care of you,” Bea said, crying. “Whatever you need, I’ll do.” They sat together holding hands, and quietly the older girls came back in, sitting

around Harley, waiting for her to wake up, but she never did, at least not that day.

She had one more lucid moment after her conversation with Bea. That night in bed, she reached for Jason in the middle of the night. “Jay, are you there?” she asked in the dark. “Yes, love, I’m right here.” Carefully, gently, he gathered Harley up in an embrace. She snuggled next to him, feeling safe and for the first time in a while, warm. “I’m always cold now,” she said. Pulling the blankets up around her, he could feel her ice cold hands folded together against his chest. “I love you, Jason,” she said. “Thank you for everything.” “Harley, I love you, too. So very much.” She closed her eyes, and with her head up against him, fell back to sleep.

Chapter 25 Sitting on a roll-around stool, Jason familiarized himself with his old anesthesia machine, going through the checklist that was standard operating procedure for the OR. It was a Tuesday, staff meeting day, and he was alone while the nurses who worked in that room had an in-service. He’d picked in-service day to return to work so he could get to his room without being bushwhacked by well-meaning acquaintances and colleagues, all concerned for his welfare. Unwilling to discuss Harley’s death with anyone but his immediate family or closest friends, most of his colleagues backed off after being clued in by Andy Forman. He was finally able to talk about her to his daughters and mother without bursting into tears. The morning after she died, his mother and mother-in-law asked him if it was okay to strip the sheets off the bed. “Just throw everything away,” he’d replied, and then back peddled. “No, don’t touch it. I’ll take care of it.” He was still sleeping with her pillow, burying his face in it, smelling her soap. When he decided he had to change the sheets, he found her hair everywhere. Collecting it, he placed it in an envelope and put it in his dresser, under his socks. At night, when he missed her so desperately he was barely able to stand it, he’d take the wad of hair and bury his nose it in, trying to smell her. The nights were torture for the whole family, Harley’s absence stark. Then Devon had an idea. “Daddy, let’s arrange Mommy’s favorite things on her nightstand. Then when we want memories, we can come into your bedroom and look at them.” They’d gone through the house, choosing things they knew Harley had loved, making a memorial of sorts for her in the bedroom. Her favorite books, a bag of knitting, an afghan she’d finished right before Christmas they arranged by the chair she’d rocked her babies in. Little by little, things Harley used everyday found there way into the

corner. Her mug, used only for tea at night, and her special coffee mug, too, a pillow Bennie had made in second grade, mementos and memorabilia from the children and their trips to the shore, her stethoscope from work and hospital ID tag.

Ready to begin a new life, on Friday, two days after the funeral, he’d insisted Maryanne go back to Delaware so he could be alone with the girls. Talking Joe into taking his mother back home too, he was finally alone with the girls. On Monday, on his own, he got the girls off to school, and after they left, the house echoed in solitude. Remembering the few times he was home after Harley went to work, the difference was the promise of her return. Plans for their evening, even if it was the meal she’d serve was a form of anticipation. That was gone now. He’d have to find a substitute, something he could introduce into their routine. Having coffee at the kitchen table, he pondered what that next step was going to be. Spending the evenings with his girls would bring him comfort, but they were already returning to their lives. Even Devon looked forward to a birthday party the next weekend. Little League practices were prepared for with precision. “Dad, don’t forget you have to wash my uniform,” she reminded him. “And my glove needs to be cleaned and oiled.” “Don’t you oil your glove yourself?” he asked curiously. “No, Mom always did it for me,” she said, unfazed. “Let me teach you how to do it,” he said. “Not that I mind helping you, but you should know how in case you need to teach someone, like Michael.” Devon liked that idea and willingly listened to his instructions.

The next day, Tuesday, was his first day back to work. Granny Fran came to see Angie, Devon and Tina off to school even thought Bennie was there. Jason left by seven, which was about an hour later than usual. Harley hadn’t worked for months, but driving to the hospital the first time after she died was challenging; to cope he pretended she was going in her own car as they used to do in case he had to work late. Magical thinking would only work for so long, however. The locker room was empty when he arrived, his colleagues in their weekly staff

meeting. Quickly changing into scrubs, an air of surrealism swirled around him. Going through the necessary motions of life was something he could control. The hospital was familiar; he only had to think about anesthesia to get through the day. Grabbing his stethoscope, putting it around his neck, he left the locker room for the anesthesia office to find he was working in room two, a small OR where minor procedures were done. First stopping by the drug room to pick up his supplies for the day, he wasn’t in the OR room long before Tiffany came in, the first time he’d seen her since the funeral. The same people from work who’d come to their wedding had attended Harley’s funeral, only a few staff members left behind to handle any emergencies. His back to the door, he heard it open and turned. “I wanted to see you before the meeting got out,” she said, walking to him. He stood up and with open arms, embraced her standing next to the anesthesia machine, their breathing the only sound in the room. Finally, he released her; the moment of sorrow had passed. He wasn’t ready to share his feelings with anyone, especially Tiffany. “I didn’t even look at the schedule,” he said. “Are you in here? Do you know what we have?” “Yes, I’m in here,” she said. “We’re doing feet today.” Jason burst out laughing. A podiatry day was often looked upon by the staff as punishment. He knew Andy was working; they’d talked on the phone the night before. As much as he would have enjoyed working with him, Jason didn’t want to do breast surgery all day, not sure he’d ever be able to do it again. But for now, the milieu of feet was perfect for him. After the first patient was finished, having to go into recovery was difficult, but he didn’t dwell on it, professional, detached. Time quickly passed and before he knew it, his shift was over. Tiffany was on call, relieving another nurse for the day so he was spared having to say goodbye to her, or of being in a position of refusing an after-work stop at the bar. He wondered how long it would take before she’d approach him, hoping it wouldn’t happen. Arriving home, he pulled into the garage next to Harley’s car, a sentinel of her absence. Sadness tinged with bitterness, he was aware that vulnerability lurked closely; he’d better be on his toes because working around single women all day was not pleasant. Wanting to honor Harley’s memory by waiting six months before he went on a

date, it was the least he could do.

Surprisingly, he was moving on with his life. As Memorial Day approached, he’d grown used to sleeping alone. Certain circumstances continued to have a profoundly sad effect on him, but he just avoided those things. Old photos, especially of Harley smiling, were killers. The closet was off limits to anyone but the girls and Harley’s sisters. Melissa came to the house with her boys one Friday evening after work and Jason could tell by her eyes, glassy and red rimmed that she hadn’t had a good day. “Can I sit in your closet?” she asked. It wasn’t an unusual request; over the years, she’d sat there while Harley sorted through clothes or organized or wrapped gifts out of range of the girls. Jason pulled the foot stool from Harley’s rocking chair into the closet for her while the girls played with Greg and the baby. After a half an hour, she came out in worse shape. “I can’t believe she’s gone,” she sobbed. “It’s not getting any easier.” “It’ll probably hit me all at once,” Jason admitted. “How are you managing it?” “I just pretend she’s still around somewhere,” he said. “Like a guy, I’m blocking it out.” “Let me know how that works for you,” Melissa replied, dubious. “We’re going to the beach this weekend,” Jason said. “That might be what it takes. Why don’t you join us? Your mother will be there.” “Maybe. No. I don’t think I can ever go there again. At least not to your dad’s place. It’s bad enough being around here.” She kissed Jason goodbye after gathering her children. “Let’s talk next week,” he said. “Maybe I’ll have something relevant to convey.” “Okay, I’ll be waiting,” Melissa said. “Wave bye bye to Uncle Jason.”

While Jason went through another week in a zombie state, his daughters were ensconced in preparations for the end of the school year. Devon had moments of acting

out, missing Harley and misinterpreting her absence for punishment. Dealing with her would be ongoing and he’d already sought counseling for the entire family because of it. Tina was slightly withdrawn, the family missing the bubbly, eccentric essence she’d once added to the household. Bennie, stony and determined, registered for twice as many classes than she’d taken per semester in the past. Angie, the only one who insisted that Harley would have wanted them to continue to pursue activities that brought them joy, signed up for a summer volleyball league in addition to soccer after graduation. A scholarship to Penn State accepted, September couldn’t come fast enough for her. “Do you regret staying home instead of going to New York?” she’d asked Bennie as they lazed around Friday, waiting for Family Movie Night. “I really don’t,” she said. “Mom was sick and I can’t imagine not having that last year with her. I’m glad I stayed home. No regrets.” “Pizza’s here!” Tina called out. Three pizza boxes, opened on the counter, with precise piles of paper plates, napkins and glasses for soda lined up on the counter. They stood in line and Tina helped Devon with hers first, one after the other, with Jason getting in line last. The movie on, they ate while ads for upcoming movies played. As they finished, plates went in the trash and boxes were closed up for snacking later. “Oh no,” Angie said, looking at the scene. “What?” the others chorused. “We did it just like Mom would have,” she answered, pointing. “What happened to our rebellious mess making?” Everyone looked around, at the cleaned off coffee table and kitchen counters. “She’d like it,” Jason said. “I’m glad we’re doing it her way.” “Me, too,” Devon said. “I feel like she’s still here.” “Me, too,” Jason said, hugging her. The next morning, they left for the shore at dawn. Using the check list Harley used to use to consolidate what they were taking along, Jason and the two older girls read each item, marking it with an X. A pile of suitcases and grocery bags formed at the mudroom door.

Seeing the organization unfolding, Bennie was comforted, knowing it would please her mother that her methods were being used. Like the rubber band effect, they’d veered away from it for a short time, but quickly understood how easy it made life to continue on with Harley’s tried and true system. Everyone pitched in loading the car. Jason stood back with a look of satisfaction on his face. “We did it,” he said, putting his arms around Tina and Angie. “Mom would be proud.” “Not a voice raised,” Bennie replied, accompanied by giggling. “Should we get in the car?” Angie asked. “It’ll be weird going without her,” Tina admitted, and they nodded in agreement. “But she’d be happy we were going,” Devon said. “Mommy loved the shore.” “That she did,” Jason said. “Let’s go.” Bennie sat up front with Jason, while Angie had the entire second seat to lie down and read. The other two were in the back watching a movie. They pulled into the development at nine; the rest of the family, including Maryanne had arrived the night before. She came out to greet Jason and the girls, seeing them for the first time since she’d left for home after Harley died. Hugs all around, having her there seemed right, made it feel normal. Joe even came out, following behind Fran, relieved that his son showed up. “Is Dave here?” Jason asked? “And Bea,” Fran whispered. “It’s a relief,” Jason replied. “I’m not ready to face more upheaval.” “Nor us,” Fran said. “And it would be too difficult for the children.” Jason looked around at the expectant faces. “Well, we’re here! What should be do first? Harley always controlled the emptying of the car.” They laughed, having to agree she was a stickler about unloading their belongings. “I remember what she did,” Devon said. “Everyone take their own bags to their rooms. Granny Fran, you and Pop Joe get the food. Daddy, you take the cooler and the rest of the stuff.” “I see,” Jason lamented. “I get to carry all the heavy stuff!” Joking as the bags were unloaded disseminated the sadness of being at the shore

without Harley. Jason was experiencing true grief, feelings he’d buried back home, going through the motions of work and caring for his girls. Bea and Dave and their girls finally came outside to help unload. “We wanted to give you some space,” Bea explained. “You never need to give us space,” Jason replied. “But I get where you’re coming from.” “How are you doing?” Dave asked, sincerely concerned. “I’ve been fine because I’m doing my own thing going to work. Mom is there everyday like she always was, picking up the slack. But here, now this is going to be tough. It just sucks that Harley isn’t with us.” “It does suck,” Dave said. “Do you want to go throw some dice around in Atlantic City tonight?” Jason stopped what he was doing. “Yes, that sounds about where I’m at right now. I could do some damage in AC.” “You could also win the Jackpot,” Dave said, laughing. “Think positive, buddy.” “Yeah, cause that’s worked so well for me in the past.” Brothers went into the cottage, arms around each others shoulders, unified once again.

Chapter 26 Saturday night in Atlantic City meant different things for different people. For visitors like Jason and Dave, it was an exciting way to kill time away from family. For casino workers like Kathy Agin, it was a means to make ends meet, watching the hands slowly moving around the clock. It had not escaped her that if she’d been willing to move away from her mother, she might have found a teaching job with a summer off stretching out before her. Standing in her circle of gamblers, she stayed focused except for those brief forays into fantasy land in which she spent hours in a lounge chair on the deck off her mother’s kitchen, sipping lemonade and reading novels. “Kathy?” she turned to find herself face to face with Jason Jones. “Jason! I’ll be with you in just a moment,” she said, aware of the eyes in the sky watching her. “I’ll be in the main lounge,” he said, nodding over his shoulder and she smiled in response, turning back to games. In fifteen minutes, a floor manager appeared to give her a break. “Take your time,” she whispered. “I see a very handsome man watching you from the Blue Sky Lounge.” Kathy nodded and walked away, headed toward Jason. The shorter man, his brother, stood next to him, watching her, almost too interested. Kathy wondered then if it was a chance meeting or planned. Did he come to tell her sad news? Approaching Jason, Kathy reached out to take his hand. “Jason. And Dave. I remember you from our fish cleaning episode.” They shook hands and she waited, heart pounding, but neither man spoke. “I’m afraid to hear,” she said. Jason nodded his head, the look on his face unmistakable. Incomprehensibly, Kathy wept suddenly. They’ll think you’re a jerk, she thought. You weren’t even supposed to

know her that well. The men embraced her, no one saying a word. “Two weeks ago,” Jason said. “She really tried to hang on for Angie’s graduation, but it was too much. She was getting tired of fighting.” “Well, I’m truly sorry,” Kathy said, wiping her eyes. “Truly. We were fond of each other.” “I know everything,” Jason said, smiling. “She had to confess because my brother here spilled the beans.” “Thanks, Dave,” Kathy replied. “We both worried you’d feel like we were being deceitful. It was a risk she was willing to take because she was so worried about the girls and all the work they were.” They laughed together, both teary eyed. “They are, but she can trust me. You can trust me. My mom is helping out so except for Harley not being there, not much has changed.” “I know that would bring her peace,” Kathy said. The chatted a while longer, Kathy drawing Dave into the conversation, mentioning how much she enjoyed Bea’s company the one day she was with her. Visibly relaxing, the men felt comfortable with Kathy without being aware of it. “I guess I’d better get back to work. Thank you for stopping when you recognized me or I’d never know.” “Did you wonder why you hadn’t heard from her?” Jason asked. “No, because truthfully, I’d ended the communication. I felt like I’d led her on, and I couldn’t rationalize the dishonesty. If anything had come of it, I’d always feel like you’d been coerced.” Jason smiled at her. “Well, don’t feel that way. I certainly don’t.” The men walked her back to her Black Jack table and said goodbye before the floor manager left. “We’ll be at in Sea Isle most weekends this summer, this one included, so feel free to come over with Laura. You don’t even need to call first.” “You remembered her name,” Kathy said, smiling. “Yeah, Jay, that’s pretty impressive,” Dave added. They had a final laugh and parted.

“Let’s go lose some money,” Jason said, rubbing his hands together. Kathy watched them walk away while she dealt cards, excited that Jason seemed okay with the dishonest plan. But then she thought of Harley, and sadness bubbled up in her throat. Some day, Kathy hoped to find out how the last days of Harley’s life had unfolded, if she was at peace, or still anxious, hoping for peace. But with the pit boss and the security cameras all over the place, it wouldn’t be that evening.

The next day, she decided to be bold and take Jason up on his offer, more to touch bases with his sister-in-law and allow Laura time with Devon. After morning coffee, she told Laura she had a surprise for her. “If you’re a good girl, we’re going to go see a special friend.” Laura looked off into space and the expression on her face tickled Kathy so that she laughed. “I think I know who,” she said. “Who?” “Devon and Michael?” “Oh my, you are so smart! Yes, Devon and Michael. So eat up your breakfast and let’s go,” she said. “Are you sure you should do this?” Kathy’s mother Betsy asked. “I mean she hasn’t been gone but a few weeks.” “I’m not doing it for Jason,” Kathy said. “I’m going it for the girls.” “Okay, if you’re sure,” Betsy replied. “Mother, you know me. I wouldn’t stick my neck out for any man, especially in this case. It’s for Harley.” Loading up the car for their trip, Kathy felt right about it, like she was going to visit an old friend. The family was outside, appearing to be cleaning the boat, when Kathy pulled into the yard. Devon came running when she saw Laura. “You came back!” she cried. The girls hugged, jumping up and down. Bea didn’t hesitate to welcome her. “The men told us they ran into you last night and I gave them hell for not getting your phone number.” “It probably seems a little nervy that I showed up but I needed to hear about Harley

and there was no chance to talk about her last night. I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. The women hugged each other, both moved thinking about Harley. “Come in and see Fran. Harley’s mother, Maryanne is here, too.” Bea led the way into the cottage. Glancing over at the boat, Kathy waved to the men. She was relieved Jason didn’t stop what he was doing to come over and join them. Introducing Kathy as Harley’s knitting buddy, the women embraced her, making her feel at home, welcomed. Fran pulled out a chair for her. “Sit, sit,” she said. “We’re getting ready to have cake and coffee.” “I found out last night from Dave and Jason that Harley was gone,” Kathy explained. “It was a shock to me. I mean I knew it was advanced but I guess I thought we had plenty of time.” “We all thought that,” Fran said, Maryanne nodding. “I thought it was going to be the end of her suffering, that it would be a relief,” Maryanne said. “Hopefully, it was a relief for her. But it was far from a relief for us.” “Jason never talks about it,” Fran said. “What happened?” Kathy asked. “The time she was awake became shorter and shorter,” Maryanne said. “The last Sunday she was alive, she knew what was happening, calling everyone around her to tell each person how much she loved them. That night, we got together, talking about all the wonderful times we’d had as a family, and when Harley was awake she started talking about her father, Daddy, she called him. “’I keep seeing him,’ Harley had said. ‘Who?’ I asked. ‘Why Daddy,’ she replied. ‘Who else?’ I’m a nurse so I know it’s not uncommon for patients to hallucinate at the end, but I think I was just too close to the situation. ‘Daddy’s dead,’ I said. ‘I know that,’ Harley said, snickering. ‘He’s coming to get me.’” Kathy started to cry, covering her hands with her face. “My dad is gone, too,” she said. “I imagine he’d come to get me, too if I was in Harley’s shape.” “I believe he was coming to get her,” Fran said. “Just like she said.” “I don’t have that kind of faith,” Maryanne said. “Although she got me thinking about it, she was so insistent. We rarely talked about him.” Wiping their eyes, the women agreed that maybe there was something to it. “At least

she wasn’t alone,” Bea said, blowing her nose. “I never had the feeling she was scared or dreading going,” Maryanne said. “It was very comforting.” “That’s just like my Harley,” Bea said. “I was honored she wanted me there with her.” “I don’t know what I would have done without you,” Maryanne said. “You, too Fran.” “It was too much for one person,” Fran said. “My son was at the end of his reserves.” “Did she go in her sleep?” Kathy asked. “Sort of,” Bea said. “She was sleeping all the time by then and never woke up again.” “It was the length of time she lasted after those last words that took the toll on everyone,” Maryanne said and the other women nodded their heads. “The way you took care of her, Bea, was a testimony to your friendship. It was beautiful,” Maryanne said. Fran nodded her head in agreement, weeping. “I guess we needed this, as painful as it is. We have Kathy to thank. We haven’t talked about it. I know I’m not getting over it like I should be.” “You’ll never get over it,” Bea said. “None of us will. We’ll just learn to live with it.”

“Guess what I made for lunch?” Fran announced, ready for a change of topic. “Harley’s macaroni salad.” “Did I just hear my wife’s macaroni salad is making an appearance today?” It was Jason, in from getting the boat ready to launch. He acknowledged Kathy with a nod and a wave. “You did,” Bea said. “I made a chocolate cake, too.” “Hurry up because we’re getting ready to take the Last Call out for its maiden voyage this summer.” “Oh my God, I hate that name,” Fran said shaking her head while Kathy and Bea

laughed. “Okay, tell your father and brother to clean up for lunch.” After they ate, the men left with the older girls to put the boat in the water and set out crab traps. Kathy was glad for the chance to see everyone and hear about Harley’s last days. When it was time to go she didn’t have to worry about saying goodbye to Jason. Bea and Maryanne walked out to the car with her and Laura. “Here’s my phone number,” Kathy said. “Thank you so much for letting me crash your party.” But they wouldn’t call her and Kathy didn’t come by the cottage again that summer.

Autumn

Chapter 27 The week before Labor Day, Angie would move into her dorm at Penn State. The entire family went along; Jason, Devon, Bea, Michael and Dave would go in Harley’s SUV packed with some of Angie’s things. Joe and Fran would bring Maryanne in their van, also packed solid with more belongings. The girls and their cousins were brining up the rear in Jason’s car. It would be a weekend they would all remember because they were so excited for Angie. After what the family had been through, the sacrifices they’d made, the sadness of Harley losing her life at such a young age, this was finally something they could rejoice over. After moving her in, the aunts and grandmothers made sure her bed was perfectly made, her clothes put away neatly, doing everything for her they knew Harley would have wanted; they could leave for home in peace.

Tiffany spent an extra half hour preparing for work Tuesday after Labor Day. Labor Day became an icon when Jason told her in early June he couldn’t even think of dating anyone until Harley had been gone at least six months. In June, she’d stuck her neck out, taking a step of faith, and asked him to have dinner with her. “I’m not ready yet,” he said. “It’s too early.” Waiting through the summer was torture for her, so Thursday before Labor Day weekend, Tiffany cornered him in the lounge at work. They hadn’t worked together all week and she was paranoid, feeling like he’d purposely avoided her. “What’d you do? Ask Steinberg to assign you to any room I’m not in?” “Tiffany, you’re insane,” Jason said laughing. “Now you’re going to blame me for us not working together. What’s really wrong?” It was the wrong thing to ask. “It’s been six months, Jason,” she said, trying not to sound shrill. “I’m ready to take whatever this is to the next level.”

But Jason wouldn’t be rushed. “I’m not ready yet, Tiffany. Yes, she’s been gone for six months, but I’m not a machine. My girls wouldn’t like it either.” “I know you’re not and I’m sorry I’m pressuring you. But I’m getting tired of this. I’m not asking you to marry me, Jason. I just want more from you.” “We have coffee together every day. We just had dinner last Friday.” “We were on call together in the hospital. A hospital dinner doesn’t count. It’s not enough,” she said. “I want to meet your kids. If I’m not good enough for them, then I’ll find someone who thinks more highly of me.” “So is this a threat?” He didn’t want to date anyone openly yet, but he didn’t want to lose a chance with her, either. “No, not at all,” she said. “But if you aren’t going to move on, I need to. I don’t have anyone else in mind, but it won’t be difficult for me to find someone.” “So you’re threatening me,” he said, chuckling. “Look, come to the beach this weekend. You can meet the family, but as someone I work with, got it? It’s too early to say we’re dating.” “I understand that. What do you take me for? Besides, if you think what we’re doing is dating then you and I are on the wrong page.” “We’re just friends,” he said, adamant. “Friends who work together.” “Right,” she said, trying to appreciate the small move he’d made. Meeting the family would be huge. “What time should I arrive?” “It’s for one day,” he said, emphatic she understand it wasn’t for the entire weekend. “Saturday or Sunday or Monday.” She thought for a moment, and Jason could see the wheels turning. If she arrived on Sunday, she might try to wheedle an overnight invitation. “Maybe Monday would be better,” he said. “Around noon.” “Okay, Monday it is. See you then!” she waved her hand in his face and flitted out of the lounge. The idea that he’d be there for the long weekend and gave her one day to visit occurred to her, but she choked down the disappointment. Hopefully, there’d be plenty of holiday weekends coming up at the shore.



When Jason got home from work, he asked the girls if they wanted to head right down to the shore or have Friday Night Movie night at home and leave Saturday. They’d held on to Friday Night Movie night and maybe it was time to switch things around. “It’s the last long weekend at the beach until Thanksgiving. What do you think?” “I don’t know,” Tina said. “Movie night gives us a chance to unwind from the week and get everything ready to go so we’re not rushing around.” “What if we get ready now?” Angie said. “Neither Bennie nor I have classes on Friday. We can do all the last minute things to prepare, and then when you and Devi and Daddy get home, we can jet after rush hour traffic.” “Rush hour will last all weekend. Don’t even worry about that,” Jason said. “What do you think, Devon?” They turned to her, deep in thought. “I’m ready for the shore,” she said. “We can have family movie night while we’re there.” “Okay! We’re leaving for the shore on Friday.” Jason had an ulterior motive; they’d have the extra time down there so sharing it with Tiffany on Monday might not seem like such an imposition. He was going to wait until Monday morning to tell them she was coming so no one would have the time to stew about it. Tiffany put as much planning into the trip as if she were going on a cruise for a week. Plus, she was going to show up on Sunday, not Monday. Monday everyone left the shore and traffic would be horrible. She’d text him when she arrived. Wisdom told her she’d better keep the upper hand with Jason or he’d constantly be shoving her aside. As it was, he was having second thoughts and was going to call her and cancel when, after breakfast on Sunday, sitting out under the trees with his mother, Tiffany pulled up. “Who’s that so early?” Fran asked. “Oh boy, it’s a woman I work with. I told her to stop by this weekend,” he said, seething. He approached her car and the look on his face let her know he wasn’t happy. “Hey, what a surprise,” he said. “I sent you a text,” she spouted, defensive. “I’m having coffee with my mother and don’t have my nose glued to the phone,” he

said, not caring that he was rude. “This is really an imposition. My mother-in-law is here.” “They’ll never suspect a thing,” she said, embarrassed, her feelings hurt but refusing to give in. Turning the car off, she reached into the passenger seat to get her bags, leaving the overnight bag on the floor. “Hi, Mrs. Jones!” Moving beyond Jason, she went directly to his mother. Ingratiating herself into the family was the goal for the weekend, even if she had to become the kitchen help. Fran put out her hand to reach Tiffany’s extended for a shake while Jason introduced them. It was weird, but not as weird as showing up unannounced was. “What a wonderful place. I just love these small towns along the beach.” “Thank you,” Fran said, rising. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” “I’ll get it, Mom,” Jason said. “Stay put. Tiffany, come inside and I’ll show you around.” Before they went inside, Jason let her have it. “I don’t like to be manipulated,” he hissed. “If I wasn’t worried about you making a scene in front of my mother, I’d throw you out.” “I’m sorry,” she said, biting her tongue. “I really did think it would be better if I came today. Traffic will be horrible going home tomorrow and everyone will be thinking about leaving just as I arrived.” Exasperated, Jason tried to pull himself together. Maryanne stood motionless in the kitchen, staring absently out the window. “Maryanne, this is Tiffany. Tiffany works with me and Harley…with me in the OR.” Maryanne turned to her, pale and unsmiling, making an effort. “How nice,” she said. “You worked with Harley?” “Well, I work in the OR and Harley worked in recovery, but yes. It’s so nice to meet you,” Tiffany said, avoiding mentioning anything about their loss. “So just here for the day?” Maryanne asked, looking at Jason, suddenly curious. Was her son-in-law already dating? “Just for the day,” she answered. “I have another friend down here so just stopping by to say hi. I won’t stay long.”

“Oh?” Thinking it was inconvenient to have this young woman here on a family weekend, she turned back to Jason. “Are you taking the boat out, because if you are, I’d like to go along for the ride. I’m in the mood.” “Probably,” Jason replied, handing Tiffany a cup of coffee. “It looks like a perfect day to fish.” “Do you fish?” Maryanne asked Tiffany. “Oh, no. I’m a vegetarian.” “Who’s a vegetarian?” They looked up as Tina walked in. Tiffany raised her hand. “I am, so no fishing for me.” “Me either.” Tina looked at her carefully, seeing an attractive young woman, not much older than Bennie. “I’m Tina.” “Oh, sorry honey,” Jason said. “This is my third daughter, Tina. Vegetarian.” “Nice to meet you, Tina,” Tiffany said, trying to hide her shock. The young woman looked like a renegade with messy, matted dreadlocks covered with a bandana. What was Jason thinking, allowing his child to go around looking like this? “Are you from around here?” Tina asked and Jason picked up on it right away, his daughter wanted to know who Tiffany was, and more importantly, why she was there. “Oh, no. I live in Philadelphia. I’m down here for the day to see friends and thought I’d drop in and bug Jason.” “Ha! And it worked,” he said sarcastically. “Let’s go out and have our coffee. What time are you supposed to be at your friend’s place?” “They’re expecting me around noon,” she lied, defeated. “I thought I’d get an early start to beat traffic.” Leading the way, Jason left the cottage with Tiffany following. She didn’t bother to say good bye to the women, her idea clearly a mistake. It was too soon, even she could see that. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Forget it,” he said. “It doesn’t take much to rock the boat right now. If you waited until tomorrow, Maryanne would be back in Delaware. I just don’t want to make things worse for her.” “Yes, I get it.”

Pausing at the chair, he waited until she sat, hoping his mother wouldn’t start asking questions. “Is everybody up?” “I only saw Tina,” Jason answered. Fran got up to leave. “Let me go light a fire under those girls. Nice meeting you,” she said. “Same here,” she said, waiting for Fran to enter the house. “Well, that is certainly not how I imagined it would be.” “And what was that?” “I guess I thought I could ingratiate myself into their lives by helping out. And what’s with your daughter’s hairdo? That was unexpected.” “What? Tina’s dreads? We love them. If you knew Tina, you’d agree they are exactly right for her. She did that in honor of Harley’s baldness when we forbade her to shave her head.” “Oh, well I guess that makes it okay,” she said, the negativity bubbling up in her throat. “But no kid of mine would walk around like that.” The words were out before she knew it, and she quickly turned to Jason. “I’m just kidding, like I would know how to raise a teenaged girl.” “Exactly,” he said. “You took the words right out of my mouth.” Looking out to the shore, Jason saw the very first sign of autumn; someone was walking on the beach with a sweater on. “It’s cold for Labor Day weekend,” he said. “Makes me sad.” “What? The fall?” “Yep, the leaves changing color, falling. Cider and donuts. They’re things Harley loved. Last fall, we left here and stopped at cider mill on the way home.” “What’s that?” “You don’t know what a cider mill is? Give me a break,” he said, laughing out loud. “You mean like where they press apples for juice?” “Yes,” he answered. “How old are you again?” “Look, I was raised in northeast Philly. We don’t have cider mills up there.” “Didn’t you ever go to New Hope or any place in Bucks County?”

“No, why would we? We lived in Philly. Everything you need is right at your fingertips.” Jason couldn’t help it; he burst out laughing and spent a full minute at it, confusing Tiffany. “Is this really just about apples or are you making fun of me?” “Both,” he said. “You need to get out of the city.” “Well now you’re talkin’,” she said. “Although here I am and feeling unwelcome.” “Sorry, but you brought that on yourself. And insulting my daughter is not the way to ingratiate yourself, as you so eloquently put it.” “It was just an observation. I didn’t think you’d have a kid with dreadlocks, so shoot me.” “Tina’s a free spirit,” Jason said. “She’s at the top of her class, plays the violin beautifully, and has never given us one second of worry.” “Chill out, Jay! I just commented about her hair. You don’t have to get defensive.” “Our kids are off limits to…” He caught himself, almost saying, “To you.” “I’ll never say another word,” Tiffany replied. They sat quietly for a while, finishing their coffee. “Where should I put my cup?” “Just leave it,” he said. “I’ll take care of it.” “Do you want to take a walk and then I’ll leave?” “I guess we could do that,” he said, looking at the cottage, wondering how many pairs of eyes were staring out the window. “I’ll let them know inside.” Handing him the cup, Tiffany wondered why it was so important for a grown man to tell his family he was going to take a walk, but didn’t say anything. Returning in seconds, she stood up. “Can we go to the water?” Jason nodded, not sure about walking the beach with her. He avoiding doing anything that might remind him of Harley. Maybe it would be okay with Tiffany, they’d be leaving their own imprint on the beach. Leading the way through the trees, right before they come out into the opening of the sand, he absently reached for her hand. Tiffany was thrilled but wisely kept her mouth shut, holding on to him as they walked along the water. It was the first time they’d held hands. It was cool out, and because it was before lunch, the beach was relatively empty for a holiday Sunday. “I can’t get over how quiet it is,” he said. “This beach is usually packed on Labor

Day weekend.” The words were out of his mouth when he looked up and saw a familiar child running along the water edge. “Laura, don’t get wet now,” a voice called. Jason looked up and recognized Kathy Agin. Feeling self-conscious, he let go of Tiffany’s hand and waved with both hands. “Laura Agin, hello!” She stopped and turned to him, and then surprising Jason, ran to him, leaping into his arms. “Devi’s daddy!” Kathy approached, laughing, but curious. Wasn’t it a little soon to be walking the beach, holding another woman’s hand? She felt loyalty to Harley masking any interest she’d otherwise have in the young woman, young with a capital Y. Surprisingly, Jason leaned in to kiss Kathy on the cheek pulling her close with one arm, Laura on his hip. “It’s so nice to see you,” he said. “You have to come back to the cottage. How far is your mother’s place from here?” “Less than a mile,” she said. “Well Devon is going to flip out. Oh, this is my friend, Tiffany,” he said. “Tiffany, an old friend of Harley and of mine, Kathy Agin, and this young lady is Laura.” Tiffany couldn’t help herself, she was taken aback by the little girl with her slanted eyes and little round face. She knew about Downs syndrome, but didn’t know of anyone who had it. “Hi,” she said, feeling put upon. This woman and her kid were infringing on her territory. “Let’s head back to the cottage. I know everyone will be excited to see you.” Neither he nor Kathy said anything about the long summer in which neither tried to get in touch with the other. “I’ve missed the girls,” she said. “Is Bea there today?” “No, I’m afraid not,” he said, glancing at Tiffany. He was prepared to say goodbye to her so he could tell Kathy about Dave and Bea breaking up. “Amanda, Sally and Michael came with my folks.” “Michael?” Laura asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Yep, good old Michael, just as wild as ever,” Jason said, the others laughing. Tiffany had no idea why but at this point, she would go along with whatever she had to,

to stay in the conversation. The wound their way through the woods, but when they got to Tiffany’s car, Jason made it clear it was time for her to move on. “I guess you need to get to your friend’s house by noon?” “It’s almost noon now,” Kathy said, figuring out this must be the unlucky Tiffany, featured in Harley’s nightmares. “Yep, I can tell time,” she said, reaching for her bags left on the chair. “Thanks for having me, Jason. Nice to meet you, Kathy.” Laura was still in Jason’s arms, her head on his shoulder, daring Tiffany to move in. “Have a safe drive back,” he said. Looking up at him, Tiffany used all of her self-control not to tell Jason off, and he saw the effort it was taking her. “I’ll see you at work on Tuesday,” he said. Not answering, she started the car and drove off without looking at them. “I guess my timing sucks,” Kathy whispered. “No, actually it was perfect,” he replied. “Let’s go inside. Everyone will be so happy to see you. Just so you know, Dave and Bea are separated.” “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear it,” Kathy said. “I enjoyed her company so much. There’s just too much change going on for anyone’s good.” “I agree,” he said, holding the door open for her. “Everyone, look who’s here!”

When Tuesday morning rolled around, Tiffany was waiting in the OR, having traded assignments with another nurse so she could be in the room with Jason. Upset by the reception she’d received from Jason and his family, she accepted she only had herself to blame for his reaction. But the way he greeted the other woman, now that was inappropriate. They weren’t invited either, yet he acted like he’d been waiting for her all along. “Good morning,” he said. “So you’re in here?” “Yes, is that a problem?” “No, not at all. I’d rather nothing was said about Sunday, however.” “What’s there to say? That you were rude to me and welcomed another woman who

was also uninvited with open arms?” Jason paused at his anesthesia machine and looked at her. “Tiffany, if it’s going to be an issue, one of us can get our assignment changed.” “It’s no issue,” she said. “I just think it’s a bit bizarre.” “Next time, when I invite you out on a certain day, show up on that day. Don’t try to manipulate me.” “How many times do I have to apologize? I said I was sorry.” “Good morning, good morning, one and all,” Andy Forman came in with a big grin on his face. “So, I got the racket.” “You did not,” Jason said, winking at Tiffany. “You paid two thousand for a new tennis racket.” “I did,” he said, ecstatic. “You should feel it. It weighs less than ten ounces.” “How can you even play with something that light? The head must be small. You won’t be able to hit the ball without your loupes on.” Andy laughed good-naturedly, the joke being he did general surgery wearing magnifying loupes because his eyesight was so bad. Chatter about Andy’s racket took precedence over Tiffany’s complaint, and the rest of the day was spent trying to get Jason’s attention, annoying him further. At the end of the day, he cornered her. “If your intent is to prevent me from focusing on my job, you’re doing a good job. Now I’m going to ask you to knock it off, Tiffany.” Guilt over not having said it when Harley was alive spurred him on. “This is a life and death situation here in the OR. Lay off the flirtation.” “You flatter yourself,” she said loudly. “I did no such thing.” “Don’t change your assignment again,” he said, and turned away as soon as her lower lip started to tremble. Tiffany was known to decompensate and he didn’t want to be around when it happened again. Grabbing his belongings, he shot out of the locker room before she could nab him. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he mumbled. Hoping she’d leave him alone, that it wouldn’t become a problem for him on the job, he headed for home, the oasis of peace. But when he reached his car, he heard Tiffany calling his name. “Jason, wait up,” she said. Annoyed, he did as she’d asked and waited.

“Look, I’m so sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t even approach you at work. You and Harley worked together all of those years and there was never a whisper about you, and already people are talking about us.” “Oh, great,” he said. “What is there to talk about?” “Just that I’m chasing you,” she said, weeping. “Sally Albertson, the fat pig just pulled me aside and told me I’ve been warned.” Sally Albertson was the OR manager. For a nurse to receive a warning from her was tantamount to a slap on the wrist. “Let’s keep our private life private,” Jason said. “If you can’t accept that I’m not ready, that I might never be ready, maybe you should move on.” “I love you,” she cried. “You know that.” “Tiffany, have some self-respect. Please.” Careful not to touch her, or to show any remorse, Jason thought he might have made headway when she took a step back. “I’m so humiliated.” “Don’t be,” he said. “That wasn’t my intent. I need to be honest with you, as I’ve been all along. I loved my wife. We went through a rough time when she was sick. I appreciate it that you were there for me as a friend.” “Whatever, Jason,” she said. “Go home.” Turning to leave, she had a smattering of hope that he’d reach for her, and the thought did cross his mind, but he caught himself in time and let her go.

Chapter 28 Harley died in her sleep, no one knowing until the morning. When Jason didn’t come out to the kitchen at his usual time, Maryanne tiptoed into the bedroom to see how she was doing. Reaching the end of the bed, she could tell right away, the knowledge that her beloved daughter was gone hitting her like a medicine ball to the chest, air escaping her lungs. Covered with blankets, Harley’s chin was hidden; the crocheted bedcap Tina had made her was pulled down around her ears. Bea had bathed her the night before, dressing her in an embroidered nightgown, even doing Harley’s nails. Jason was on his side, his back facing her. Maryanne could see him breathing, slow, shallow, the breath of unconsciousness. She didn’t want to wake him just yet. Creeping up to the side of the bed, she reached out and felt for Harley’s carotid pulse, but there was nothing. Pulling the sheets down she looked closely at her daughter’s face. A faint smile was there, her skin unlined like a young girl, her eyes closed, seemingly at peace with Glenn’s dog tags around her neck. Seeing Harley so serene, but without life jarred Maryanne. No matter what, she hadn’t been able to prepare for the loss. Before giving in to her own grief, she crept around to the other side of the bed and put her hand on his shoulder. “Jason,” she whispered. He rose with a start. “Huh?” he asked, but his eyes filled with tears immediately, his face contorting. “Is she gone?” Maryanne nodded. “She is, but she’s smiling.” Hopping out of bed, he ran around to her side and crouched down. “Oh God, Harley! Oh God, I thought I’d be relieved. I can’t believe she’s dead.” While Jason crumbled, Maryanne stayed calm for his sake, kneeling down next to him, embracing him, soothing him, pointing out again that she was smiling. But for Jason, it meant nothing, his despair was so intense. All he knew was that he’d never talk to his best friend again. They stayed on their knees at the bedside for a long time,

crying on and off, talking about what a wonderful human being Harley was. Finally, spent, Jason stood up, leaning on the mattress for support. Harley’s head rocked on the pillow, the movement eerie, driving home the reality of what was happening. It was a weekend morning and the girls were in their rooms, expecting to greet their mother soon. “We need to decide how to handle the girls,” Maryanne said. “She looks so peaceful, do you think we should let them come in if they want?” But Jason was unable to contribute anything yet. Maybe allowing them to see their mother dead would have less an impact than seeing their father a mess. “I’ll call your mother,” Maryanne said, needing to lose it herself but having to take care of Jason forcing her to stay in control. Picking up the phone, she dialed Fran’s number. “Is she gone?” Fran said without a hello. “Yes, yes she’s gone,” Maryanne said, crying at last. “Jason is a wreck and I’m not sure what to do about the girls. They’re still in their rooms.” “I’ll get Pop and we’ll come right over,” Fran said, hanging up. Hesitantly, she approached him, sitting in his recliner, reading a hunting magazine. “Joe, Harley’s gone.” “Already?” Sitting up, he put the foot of his chair down. “Was that Jay?” “No, it was Maryanne. She said Jason’s in a bad a way. We need to go over. The poor woman is alone, not sure what to do about the children.” He stared out the picture window, looking over the street, at the blue, blue sky and the beginnings of spring. Why’d she pick a weekend to die? “What will you do about the girls?” “They have to be told. When we get there, if it hasn’t come up yet, we’ll let Jason make the decision.” Jason already knew what needed to be done. The girls would be encouraged to see Harley one last time. They weren’t having an open casket funeral, thank heaven, so it was now or never. He’d spoken at length with hospice and with Harley, and seeing her body would help the girls grieve. When Maryanne hung up from talking to Fran, she turned to discover Jason sitting in the rocker where Harley had nursed all four girls, perched on the end of the seat, staring

at Harley. “I’ll clean up and then we’d better get the girls in to see her.” He was composed for the time being. Maryanne nodded. She watched the door while he was brushing his teeth. Soon, he came out, looking grim, looking despondent. “I can’t believe she’s really gone,” he said breaking down again. Pulling himself together, Maryanne followed him to Bennie’s room first, standing behind him as he tapped on the door. “Come in,” she called out, in a sleepy voice. Seeing her father with Maryanne behind him, Bennie popped up. “Is it Mom?” she asked, her face contorting. “It is, sweetheart,” Jason said, going to her. “She went in her sleep. We need to tell the others, and then you should go in to see her.” “I’m afraid,” Bennie cried. “She looks very peaceful,” Maryanne said, embracing her. “You’ll be glad you saw her one more time.” “Oh Granny, I’m so sorry,” Bennie cried out, the impact of understanding what the loss was for her grandmother taking precedence over her own grief. “We’d better get to the other girls before they hear us,” Maryanne said, and the three of them went into Angie’s room, then to Tina’s and last to Devon’s. “I want to see Mommy one last time,” Devon said, calmly, taking Jason’s hand. They hadn’t touched her; she was very natural with her head turned and her chin down, that little smile on her face, her sparse eyelashes on her cheeks. “She looks like she did as a young girl,” Maryanne said, starting to weep. The older girls surrounded her, patting her, helping their grandmother and father deal with grief a way to assuage their own. “Knock knock.” They looked up to find Fran and Joe in the bedroom doorway. Devon ran to Fran, throwing her arms around her. “Granny Fran, Mommy died in her sleep.” She pulled her grandparents to the side of the bed, Joe weeping put his arms around the older girls’ shoulders as they stared at Harley. Fran went to Jason, embracing him first and then Maryanne, afraid to look at Harley. “Are Dave and Bea coming?” “She just left at midnight,” Jason said. “Let them sleep.” “I’ll call the aunts,” Angie said. “Melissa and Kelly need to be here, too.”

Angie left the room while the others stood silently, sentinels of Harley’s body. Fran spoke up. “You girls want to get dressed? I guess we’ll have company today whether we want it or not. But I’ll try to keep it just the family, just us. I’ll get on the phone to Bea and Dave in a while. Jason, you want coffee?” “No, Ma. Yes. I don’t know what I want. I’ve got to call Andy,” he said. “Someone’s got to pronounce her.”

He’d stay there at the edge of the bed, by Harley for the rest of the day, fussing with her cap, fingering her father’s dog tags. In the afternoon, everyone but his parents and Maryanne had left. Then they called the undertaker. The girls huddled with their grandmothers, crying, while Jason and Joe stood guard over her, following the gurney out to the hearse, the neighbors coming out to pay their respects and give Jason their love. By the next morning, the food and flowers started to arrive in earnest, tons of the stuff, more than they could eat in a week. “What do we do with all of this stuff?” Bea asked. “What guests won’t eat, take to the soup kitchen,” Joe said. “Load up Dave’s truck and I’ll take it over now.” So the family was busy with entertaining and food distribution and taking flower arrangements to the nursing homes in the neighborhood, taking the edge off their grief. By Wednesday, the day of the funeral, Jason had his act down pat. Not a tear shed in front of anyone but his family, to his friends and coworkers he pretended to be beyond speech. By Thursday, all he wanted was to be alone, shooing his parents out of the house. By Friday, he’d convinced Maryanne he was fine; he’d be okay dealing with the girls. Reluctantly, she left for Melissa’s house, afraid to drive back to Delaware in case he changed his mind. “We’re finally alone,” Bennie said, standing in the middle of the kitchen. It looked like a foreign place without Harley. Even the placement of the coffee pot, flower arrangements set in the middle of the table and one on the counter, placed differently than the way Harley would have set them. “We need to do something normal,” Tina replied. “Something Mom would suggest.”

“Let’s do movie night,” Devon said. “Star Wars. Mommy was always asking me if I wanted to watch Star Wars.” “Perfect,” Jason said, Angie and Tina agreeing. They rushed around preparing for movie night. Bennie ordered Pizza and Angie and Tina drove to Wawa for hoagies. Devon got the afghans out of the closet while Jason got out of his clothes, into sweatpants and got the movie queued up. They got into recliners with their food, the extra afghans piled onto Harley’s, hiding its emptiness. They didn’t stop at Star Wars, however, watching Back to the Future, which was one of Harley’s favorites, and after Devon fell asleep, an adult comedy that Harley had also enjoyed. “I feel closer to her now, watching movies she’d have liked,” Angie said, and they agreed. The next morning, the girls took their time getting up, Bennie making coffee while Tina helped Devon get her breakfast. Jason’s bedroom door was closed. “Should we make sure he’s okay?” Angie asked. “I think we should leave him alone,” Tina said. “If he’s not okay, it’s too late to do anything, and if he’s okay then we’ve disturbed him for nothing.” Around noon, they heard water running, but he still hadn’t come out. Heartbroken, the effort it had taken for the last week to hide his grief, to stay strong, to go through the motions of doing something he was loath to do finally became too much. He knew that if the girls needed him, they’d come to his bedroom door. He stayed in bed with the covers pulled up to his chin. Moving over to Harley’s side, he spent the rest of the day there, looking out the window, wondering how the sun could be so cheery, the sky blue, leaf buds unfurling into leaves almost by the minute, when his heart was broken. Finally, at sundown, he came out of the room he once shared with Harley. “Sorry, girls,” he said. “That’s okay, Daddy,” Devon said. “We knew you needed to be alone.” “Did you eat?” he asked. “We had leftovers. I had pizza and Mom’s macaroni salad.” Jason groaned with delight. “Yum! That’s what I’ll have,” he said.

No one mentioned Harley again that weekend. Jason stayed in bed until Sunday night, only coming out to make sure Devon had everything she needed for school Monday. “Do I have to go back?” she asked. “I’d rather stay here with you.” “Oh, yes,” Jason said. “Miss Clark asked about you and said she hoped you’d be back on Monday. They need you at school.” “Who will see me off?” she asked, looking worried. “Why, I will,” he said. “But on Tuesday I have to go back to work so Granny Fran will be here like she’s always been.” “Daddy, I’ll be home in the morning too,” Bennie said. “I don’t have to be at work until ten.” “Tina, do you need anything from me?” “No Daddy,” Tina said. “I’m all set.” Jason knew Harley pampered Tina, and he wanted do the same. Keeping things calm and peaceful was key and he hoped Tina would ask if he wasn’t doing the job. “Make sure you let me know if you need something, Tina,” he said. “I can’t read your mind.” “Daddy, no one can read another person’s mind!” Devon shouted, giggling. “Mommy could,” Jason said. “You girls should tell me if I’m missing something important.” “We will,” Tina said. “You do the same, Dad. If you need us to do more, just say the word.” Wishing Harley could hear the conversation, it certainly would have put her mind at ease. “Mommy would be so proud of you girls. She was so worried we’d all fall apart.” “If I don’t pass this midterm, I will fall apart,” Bennie said. “I should’ve taken this semester off.” Jason squeezed her shoulder. “You’ll be glad when it’s finished that you got it out of the way,” he said. “Hang in there.” “Mom would have offered me a cup of coffee,” Bennie said. Angie put her head on the table and tried to stifle her laughter. “Okay, I guess I can do that, too,” Jason said. “Isn’t it kind of late for coffee?”

“She’d make decaf,” Angie said, straightening up. “Oh, that felt so good. I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.” “It sounded like you were having a cow,” Devon said, repeating a phrase they utilized. The girls laughed at Devon’s observation while Jason made a pot of decaffeinated coffee and the others brought out cookies Fran had made. It would become a nightly ritual, a before bedtime snack and comforting, often humorous conversation between Jason and his girls.

Thanksgiving

Chapter 29 No pie smells permeated the house in the morning. The decision to bypass pie making until they got to the shore was made unanimously, the hustle and bustle of the week leading up to Thursday didn’t leave even an hour to fill a frozen pie crust with a can of filling. “Mom would agree,” Angie said, loading pie making supplies into plastic grocery sacks. “Yes,” Bennie said. “Attending Devon’s adorable play was definitely more important.” “I wanted to be a pilgrim,” Devon said, trying not to pout. “But being an Indian was okay.” “I was shocked they allowed it,” Tina whispered to Angie. “It’s politically incorrect.” “I think the politically correct term is Native American,” Angie explained to Devon. The sisters conferred, huddling around Bennie as she studied Harley’s list once more. “I think we have everything.” “Which list of Mom’s is that?” Jason asked, stopping to pour another cup of coffee. “The holiday list. She has one marked fall, but it doesn’t have pie ingredients.” The family laughed, agreeing they’d become addicted to the lists, including one of supplies necessary to take to the shore which Harley had made, sending it to each of them in a PDF file. Headings included Halloween at the Shore, Easter in Rehoboth, Granny Fran’s Birthday in Sea Isle City. “Gee, that was decent of her,” Tiffany said, yawning as she walked into the kitchen, the older girls looking at her curiously, wondering if she was being sarcastic. “I could hear someone snoring all the way in my room,” Jason said, quickly trying to divert attention from her remark, while sidestepping Tiffany as she moved in to hug

him. “Well, it wasn’t me,” she answered, stopping in her tracks. “I’m just glad I don’t have to drive here from Philadelphia this morning. Thanks for allowing me to spend the night. I know what an inconvenience it must have been.” The girls scattered, aware Tiffany’s words were loaded. Bennie had overheard Jason’s side of the conversation on the phone the night before, reluctantly allowing Tiffany to spend the night. Sharing it with her sisters later, they agreed it sounded like Jason was trying to please everyone. “It is just inappropriate,” he’d said. “I don’t get it that you’re making such a big deal.” A pause in his side of the chat, she assumed Tiffany was arguing and the next thing he said cinched it. “I guess you can stay with the girls or on the couch if you don’t want to drive down tomorrow morning. You’re acting like it’ll take all day.” The truth was she lived forty-five minutes away on the other side of Philadelphia, so it made sense to spend the night since she’d wrangled an invitation to the shore for Thanksgiving. Jason’s reluctance to share his free time with her had the odd effect of making his daughters uncomfortable enough to defend Tiffany, in spite of her childishness. “Why doesn’t he just stop seeing her if he’s so hell bent on not having her come around us?” Bennie said. “I feel sorry for Tiffany,” Tina replied. “It’s obvious she’s in love with Dad.” “He feels guilty about Mom,” Angie said. “You could see how uncomfortable Granny Fran was around her last time she came to the shore.” “Did you see him hop away from her this morning? Jeesh! She need to give up.” After Labor Day, Jason, worn down by Tiffany’s persistence and beginning to weaken due to loneliness, gave in to Tiffany’s demands for a role in his life. “You’ve got to start somewhere,” she argued. “Bringing me around the family avoids you having to take me out in public.” “Ha! Is that what you think is holding me back?” he asked. “Tiffany, you’re clueless. But if you want to come around my family I guess it can’t hurt anything.” “You act like they’ll fall apart if you move on,” she said, irritated.

“Tiffany, Harley just died nine months ago,” he said. “Why do I have to keep reminding you? No one’s ready to see me with another woman.” Least of all myself, he thought. “I think you underestimate your family,” she said. And she was right. Everyone was cordial if not indifferent when she was around, even Jason’s littlest daughter. They ignored her for the most part, for which she was grateful, having little to say to teens and tweens. Tiffany avoided Jason’s former mother-in-law and Harley’s sisters. She mistook their sadness and indifference for rudeness, but she didn’t say anything to him because it would have supported his point. Nothing was happening in the intimacy department, either, Jason quickly rebuffing any advances she made. He held her hand, but that was it. She’d gotten more hugs from him when he was married than he would allow now and she was mystified. “Don’t complain,” her friend Jaclyn advised. “He’s obviously not over his wife yet. It’s enough that he’s bringing you around.” On the trip to Sea Isle, Bennie reluctantly gave up the front seat to Tiffany. “I guess I’ll sit in back, Dad,” she said. Jason looked from Bennie to Tiffany and back to Bennie again, frowning. “Oh. Okay thanks, honey.” Chattering non-stop during the trip, by the time he pulled up to his family’s cottage, Jason’s nerves were fried. Lining up to help unload the car, the girls were stony silent. Tiffany moved ahead of them and reached for her bags. After she’d removed her belongings, Jason spoke up. “We have a tried and true method for unloading. Watch precision at work!” Each girl took her assigned bags out of the back of the car. Next, Joe and Fran came out to greet them. “We’re here for the food!” Joe bellowed, looking at Tiffany curiously. He had to hand it to his son; exposing his mother and daughters to a girl as young as Tiffany took balls. “Pie making ingredients,” Bennie said, handing over grocery bags full of flour, sugar and fresh fruit. “Do we have enough time for baking before dinner?” “Loads of time,” Fran said, nodding to Tiffany. “We’re ready to bake. Hello Tiffany, nice to see you again.”

“Thank you for having me,” she said. “I don’t bake so this will be fun.” “You’ll learn a lot today, trust me,” Fran said. To Jason and the girls, she whispered, excited, “Your Aunt Bea’s here.” “Oh, I’m so glad,” Tina said, turning to the cottage. Tiffany had eventually heard the story of Dave and Bea, hoping they’d stay apart. It would make her life with Jason so much easier not to be the odd woman out, avoiding having Harley’s best friend at every family function. Seeing them together in the cottage, she had to force a smile on her face, even as Bea ignored her, barely able to be civil. Organized chaos ensured for the next hours as an assembly line of sorts sprouted up with piecrust rolling and filling mixing taking place. When time was up, six pies, one of every variety lined up for their turn in the oven. Only pumpkin was duplicated. “One recipe is Mom’s recipe and one is a new one from the internet,” Angie said. “Why would you try to duplicate perfection?” Bea asked, echoing everyone’s shocked concern about replacing Harley’s famous pie. “What? It was her idea.” Relief and laughter buzzed over the crowd. “I miss Harley right now. She was always in charge of pies,” Bea said. Fran noticed Tiffany putting her hands up in defeat, stepping away from the pie collection, grimacing. Maybe making pie wasn’t such a great idea, Tiffany thought, mimicking similar responses over the next hours if anyone dared to mention Harley’s name in her presence, attitude casting a pall over dinner.

Later that night, Fran would say having Tiffany’s nastiness there was good. “We couldn’t get melancholy or sad because we had that twit sitting where Harley usually sits,” she whispered to Joe in bed. “It’s the first time they didn’t stay for the long weekend,” Joe replied, sad. Everyone seemed shocked when Jason and the girls said they were leaving, especially Tiffany. “There’s a new sheriff in town,” Fran said. “I’m not sure for how long.” “You don’t know that,” Joe said. “Jason might ask her to get married for all you know.” “He won’t marry her. In the first place, she’s jealous of his kids. Jason will never put

another woman in front of his daughters.” Joe wasn’t so sure that was true. But rather than make Fran angry by suggesting that Tiffany’s tight little body, flaunted for all to see in her skin-tight blue jeans and sweater might be enough motivation for marriage, he wisely let it go. “My son, David acted like a love starved teen boy today,” Fran said, disgusted. “Why did Bea come? I mean I’m happy she did but what does it mean? Did they get back together or what?” “Who knows? I think Jason told him Tiffany was coming and Dave didn’t want to be alone. You noticed he’s sleeping in the recliner, right?” “I don’t notice nothin’,” Joe said, reaching for her. “Come here. I’m sick of talking about our sons. They’re grown men. If they want to mess up there lives, let ‘em.” Cuddling next to her husband, Fran sighed. “Jason didn’t have anything to do with his problems,” she said defensively. “His life got messed up for him.” Joe held on to Fran, grateful he didn’t have to worry about her dying when their boys were teenagers. “Poor Jason,” he said. “I’ll try to step it up helping over there.” “You’re doing fine,” she said, patting his cheek. “No one could ask for a better father.”

Heavy traffic on the Garden State Parkway delayed Jason’s arrival home by half an hour. A nervous wreck, he watched the clock, determined Tiffany was going to get into her car and be on the road before ten. “Home sweet home,” Angie called out when they turned into the driveway, the others agreeing. “Let yourself into the house,” Jason called out, throwing the keys to Bennie. “I’ll help Tiffany load her car.” Keeping his eyes averted, he knew she was throwing daggers at him with her looks, but he avoided an argument by staying busy gathering her bags. “I thought we were spending the weekend at the shore,” she said. “Talk about getting the bum’s rush.” “No one gave you the bum’s rush, Tiffany. I just changed my mind,” Jason replied honestly. “There was too much going on.” He avoiding chastising her for what was

deplorable behavior, from pouting when anyone mentioned Harley’s name, to rushing out of the room in tears when Jason left to help his father with a chore. Pressing the unlock button on her key fob, the trunk lid rose and when it hid them from view, she finished saying her piece. “You are giving me the bum’s rush,” she said, arguing. “Now I have to drive through town in the dark.” “Tiffany, give me a break,” Jason said. “You drive at night all the time. I hear the women at work talking about the hours you keep at the bars. I think you’ll be safe on Thanksgiving night if you head straight home.” “I thought I’d stay the night again and we could do something tomorrow,” she said, refusing to give up. “I spend the Friday after Thanksgiving with my girls,” he said. “Well, maybe you could integrate me into the fun,” she suggested, forcing a smile. “We’re really not ready,” he said, trying to be kind. “This is our first Thanksgiving without their mother.” He didn’t say bringing you along today was against my better judgement but I did it for peace. “I know that,” she said, sick of hearing about the firsts. “They seemed fine.” “Probably having a stranger there kept everyone from dwelling on Harley,” he said. “Ugh, that hurt. A stranger? Jeesh Jason, you really know how to hurt a girl.” “Well, to the folks you are a stranger.” “Stop keeping me away then,” she said, her voice getting louder against her will. “Take a stand.” Jason realized he didn’t want to take a stand, at least where his family was concerned. As gently as he could, he took her aside, leaning against the car. “Tiffany, we need to talk.” “Oh no, not the we need to talk maneuver. Give me a break.” Slumping against the car, Tiffany pouted, but didn’t give in to the fury she felt. “This isn’t going to work,” he said softly, worried she’d make a scene in his driveway. “I’m not ready. My family’s not ready. No one is ready.” “Well then what is this all about?” she asked standing up straight again, her finger switching between them both. “Ever since Harley got sick, it’s been you and me. I heard through the grapevine she was jealous of me.”

Tiffany dropping Harley’s name infuriated Jason but he managed to keep his cool outside of a twitch in his jaw. “Please don’t bring her name up. We’re not arguing about Harley. As a matter of fact, we’re not arguing. There’s nothing between us but what I thought was a friendship. Maybe I was wrong. For you to start talking about her…” Stopping before it got out of hand, he was finished. “Tiffany, go home. We’ll see each other at work, but this is over.” Glaring at him, she debated slapping his face, but decided theatrics was a bit much even for her. “Fine,” she said. “Thanks for the worst Thanksgiving I’ve had in a long time.” Whatever, he thought, biting his tongue. He checked his watch while watching her car roll down his driveway. It was ten on the nose. If they moved fast, they could get back to Sea Isle by midnight.

Chapter 30 Friday morning, Fran and Joe discovered Jason and his family, spread out over the living room, the girls sleeping but Jason just waking up. “Why didn’t you go right back to your rooms?” Joe asked, pulling afghans over his granddaughters. “We didn’t want to make the noise,” Jason said, getting up from the recliner, his arms over his head, stretching. “Why didn’t you wait for the morning to come back?” Fran asked, following him into the kitchen. “We missed being here,” Jason said. “After Tiffany left, I asked if they were up for the drive and everyone said yes. So here we are. I never really intended on staying home. My motto from now on is don’t rock the boat, don’t change the routine, status quo is best.” Fran and Joe high-fived, chuckling. “Pop and I were worried.” “No worries, Mom. I’m not going to run off and marry Tiffany, okay? I would always include you in my plans.” “Thank you,” Fran said. “I think. I’ll make coffee.”

The Black Friday routine unfolded without Harley. The girls hung out in their bedroom reading, Bea supervised Michael and Devon with a craft project, the men took advantage of the mild weather by putting the boat in the water one last time. After lunch, Fran was sitting at the kitchen table alone, drinking coffee when she heard a car driving on the gravel. Pulling the curtain aside, she saw it was the young woman who had come to knit with Harley the day after Thanksgiving the year before, the one with the little girl. She’d come again Labor Day weekend, a comfortable, friendly visit. “I hope you don’t mind the intrusion,” Kathy Agin said. “We were in the

neighborhood and Laura asked to see Devon.” “Come in,” Fran said, stepping aside. “Devon was just complaining she was getting bored so your timing is perfect.” “Gosh, it’s sure quiet,” Kathy said, looking around the empty living room. “Did you have your whole family come for Thanksgiving?” “We did, but Harley’s sisters and mother left last night. The men are out in the boat. Bea’s in back with the younger kids. Have a seat and I’ll get them.” Kathy sat down and pulled Laura over to her. “Look at that. Mrs. Jones said our timing is perfect,” she said, kissing her. “Kathy,” Bea said, coming out with Devon and Michael who immediately took Laura back to the toys. “It’s good to see you.” “Thank you. I can’t believe it was only last year that I met all of you,” she said. “One year ago today.” “It does seem impossible that time has gone so quickly,” Bea said, sitting down. “So much has changed yet here we are, nothing is different. It’s just weird.” “I have news,” Kathy said. “I found a teaching job. It’s in Downingtown, so I’ll have to move.” Bea grasped her hand. “You know I teach in Downingtown, don’t you?” “You do?” Kathy asked. “I can’t believe it.” “Do you have a place to live yet?” Bea asked. “Not yet. I just found out about it. I don’t start until the new semester so I have a few weeks to look and get settled. “You should think about looking by us. Jason isn’t far; we’re about three miles from him.” The reality of what she was saying sunk in; she and Dave were probably going to have to sell their house if they went through with the divorce. Focusing on Kathy’s good news, she pushed that thought out of her mind. “Anything I can do to help you, just let me know. I’m sure my girls would babysit for you, too.” “Childcare has been the big thing,” she said. “It’s why I was reluctant to move away from my mother.”

“Well it’s very exciting and I’m so happy for you.” She leaned in and gave Kathy a hug just as the door opened and the men arrived. “Surprise!” Kathy said. “You’re the surprise!” Jason replied. “I’m all fishy.” “We’re having fish for dinner,” Dave told Bea, actually smiling at her. “Fish and crabs,” Joe said. “The last crabs of the year,” Jason said. “I’m ready to clean fish,” Kathy said, standing up. “Let’s go.” “I’ll get the crab pot ready,” Bea said. “We’ll cook outside.” “Absolutely,” Kathy replied. While the others rounded up fish cleaning supplies and cooking implements, Kathy and Jason caught up. “I’ll be moving closer to you,” she said, smiling. “I thought you told Harley I wasn’t your type,” he said laughing. “Not to stalk you, but to work.” “You got a teaching job? That’s great, Kathy. Congratulations.” “I start next semester. I have to get a place and move.” “The schools by us are really good. If Laura has any special needs, you’ll want to have her in Devi’s school. It’s rated exemplary.” “Really? That’s wonderful. The good thing though is that Laura will be a student where I teach. She and I can travel together in the morning and at the end of the day, no sitter needed.” “That’s great! You know, if you move nearby you’ll be close to Bea and Dave too,” he said, forgetting about his brother’s plan to move out. “Their girls are in the same school system as ours, but different schools.” “Come on you two,” Joe called. “Let’s get these crabs in the pot before they try to crawl back to the sea.” Like she did the afternoon a year before, Kathy made herself useful, pitching in with fish cleaning, shucking corn, scrubbing potatoes. Bea and Fran also joined in this time and the adults worked side by side, making small talk, teasing. Out of the blue, Kathy made a statement everyone was thinking but no one had the courage to put into words. “The only thing missing is that Harley won’t be here when we’re ready to eat.”

Joe stopped what he was doing and looked over at her. “You took the words right out of my mouth,” he said. “Yes, thank you,” Jason replied. “I’m always afraid to say anything about her for fear of being a downer.” “You could never be a downer, Jay. She’d be so happy we were doing this,” Bea said, looking at everyone. “It’s a family tradition, eating fresh caught fish the day after Thanksgiving when none of us can look a turkey in the eye.” “Ha! I’m glad you said it Bea, because I really didn’t want to eat leftovers again,” Dave replied. “It’s only Friday, for heaven’s sake,” Fran said, laughing. “We ate turkey one day.” Once the ice was broken after Kathy mentioned Harley’s name, it was like the floodgates opened up and they couldn’t stop talking about her. During dinner, the girls chimed in, sharing stories about their mother and aunt. The atmosphere was completely different than it had been with Tiffany around, where the mere mention of Harley’s name sent her into throws of sighing and eye-ball rolling. Jason noticed too, and for the first time, he looked at Kathy differently. After dinner, he approached her. “Would you like to go to a movie with me tonight?” he asked. “I’ll ask my girls to babysit with Laura.” “I’d like that,” she said. “Even if you’re not attracted to me?” Jason teased. “Even then,” Kathy replied, smiling, aware she might have the upper hand in their relationship and deciding to keep it that way for as long as she could.

Returning from their date after midnight, Jason carried Laura out to the car for Kathy, buckling her into her booster seat. Kathy rolled her window down and before she knew it, Jason leaned in and kissed her; a romantic kiss full on the mouth. “Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked. “You can come back here, and bring your mother, if she’ll come. Harley’s sisters and mother are coming back here and I’d like you to meet them, too.” Head spinning, Kathy’s natural inclination was to take her time making decisions and flee uncomfortable situations, especially as serious as meeting Jason’s in-laws. But she

didn’t want to give in to fears. “I guess I could do that,” she said. “Do you think it’s important?” “I do,” he said. “I want you to meet everyone. And I need to meet your mother.” “Gosh, I swear to you, when I decided to come over here today, I had no idea we’d end up together.” “Is it okay with you? Because I’m glad about it.” Smiling, Kathy thought of Harley again. “I think Harley would be, too. She thought I’d be perfect for you.” “Is that right?” Jason asked, reaching for her hand. “It is,” Kathy replied. “‘I’m not sure about the cowboy boots, but the rest of it, I think Jason would love.’ Those were her exact words.” Laughing, Jason stuck his head in the window again to try to see her feet. “I didn’t even notice what you had on your feet today,” he said. “Fish scale-covered cowboy boots,” Kathy replied. “I noticed people sniffing around me at the theater.” “I guess we’re pretty comfortable with each other if we could go to the movies in the same clothes we cleaned fish and ate crabs in.” “Yes, that’s a good indication. Pretty much with me is what you see is what you get.” “That’s a relief,” Jason said, exhaling. “I’m too old for anything else.” Waiting for her to buckle in and drive off, waving, Jason would go to sleep that night thinking about their conversations instead of waking up anguished that Harley was gone.

Chapter 31 The weekend was healing for more than just Jason and his girls. Fran and Joe talked about Kathy and Laura, sharing their observations, fantasizing about what it would be like if Jason was serious about her. “I’m a little concerned about the child,” Joe said. “Because she has Downs?” Fran asked. “Sort of. Not that it’s a problem, but would she be in competition with Devon? That might not be fair.” “You should watch them play sometime, Joe. Devon is so cute with her, so helpful. It would probably be good for both girls. They felt hopeful for their son, although they still missed Harley horribly, they saw evidence of her in all four girls, and as time passed, they didn’t feel as despairing over her absence.

For Bea and Dave, the weekend had a positive effect. For the first time in months, years, Dave stopped thinking about himself. Watching his brother having to start fresh with a strange woman, the negative effect Tiffany had on the family, his relief was palpable when Jason took her back to Pennsylvania after dinner and returned alone the same night. New and exciting was not always the best. There was something to be said for the grounded, stable influence of a familiar mate. Laying next to Bea in bed Saturday night, listening to her slow, steady breathing, he thought about what the day had been like after the months leading up to Harley’s death. At the very least, he could relax. Harley’s illness, the constant fight for her life, had displaced Dave’s wellbeing, a sense of normalcy he needed in order to function. Having someone so close to him dying pushed everything else in his life out of alignment. Selfish, ridiculous, irrational; he was aware of how he was perceived by his

family, but he had no control over his behavior, like a child/wild-man, he was driven by emotions and sensations ostensibly cut off from his brain. Doing restitution was impossible, and now of course, Harley was dead and he could never make up to her the cruelty. Grateful Bea and Harley had mended their relationship before she died, one regret he fortunately didn’t have, that he’d ruined it for them, too. “Bea,” he whispered. “Bea, are you sleeping?” “Sort of,” she moaned. “What’s wrong?” “Can you forgive me?” Waking up, she slowly turned over, Dave up on his elbow, his face illuminated by the moonlight. “For what?” “You know what I mean,” he said, tormented, embarrassed. “Dave, I really don’t. Please don’t get angry with me. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” There were so many things to forgive him for, she didn’t know where to start, and verbalizing that to him would only start a fight. “Okay, this isn’t easy for me,” he said, reaching for the light switch at his bedside. Oh crap, Bea thought. It’s gonna be an all nighter. “I’m listening,” she said, sitting up, stifling a yawn. “Can you forgive me for Candie Baker?” “Oh, so now she’s Candie,” Bea said with a hint of sarcasm. “Candace,” Dave corrected, willing to bite his tongue for the sake of peace. “Will you forgive me for talking to her?” “Is that all you did?” “Yes, I swear to you.” “Sure, I can forgive that. It never really meant anything to me. What bothered me was you telling me you didn’t want to be married anymore. That was the biggie.” “Well I had my head up my ass. Will you forgive me for that, too?” “Does this mean the divorce is off?” “If you’ll have me, yes,” he said. “I want to forget the past year ever happened. I need to make it up to you and my brother. It’s too late for Harley.” “I think she figured it out, Dave. Don’t beat yourself up too much over it.” “I wish I could’ve made it up to her though,” he said.

“You still can. Be there for her girls. It was her biggest worry, those four girls. Whenever you spend time with them or advise them or even show them you care, you’re making it up to her.” Moved by how his wife was always able to sum life up so simply, Dave clicked off the bedside light and reached for her. “I can do that. I’ll do whatever you tell me to do,” he whispered. “Is that right?” Bea replied, wrapping her arms around him. “Tell me you love me.” “I do love you,” Dave said. “More than anything.”

No one was as happy about Tiffany going home as Harley and Jason’s daughters. Even Devon admitted it. “I hope I don’t get into trouble with Santa for saying this, but Tiffany is not nice.” “You said it,” Angie replied. “I agree,” Bennie said. They looked at Tina, waiting for her opinion. “What?” she asked. “Well, are you glad she left? Do you think she’s not nice?” “Um,” Tina said, watching her sisters frown; lost her restraint and started to laugh. “I don’t think she’s right for Dad.” “Oh man, I never even let it get that far in my mind,” Angie said. “She’s not right for us, or Granny Fran, or especially Granny Maryanne or the shore house. She’s not right for anything.” “I have to tell you something when Devon leaves,” Bennie whispered to Tina. “Angie already knows.” Angie winked at her sisters. “Devon, let’s go find Granny Fran.” She led her away so Bennie could talk to Tina. But Tina didn’t really want to hear, worried it would validate something she was afraid might be true. Bennie and Tina waited for their sisters to leave the room. “Okay, out with it. Now I’m ready to burst,” Tina said. “I overheard Mom and Dad fighting about Tiffany last year, before Thanksgiving.” “I don’t believe it,” Tina said. “I mean, I do, I suspected it, but I don’t want to believe my father is capable of being so selfish.”

“He really took good care of Mom,” Bennie said, backpedaling. “But I think maybe a harmless flirtation at work might have been too much for Mom. Tina, you could see the way he was with Tiffany, it was nothing more than a casual friendship. I didn’t get the vibe that they’d been intimate…” Tina put her hands over her ears. “Oh, my God, are you kidding me? I don’t want to hear about it!” “That’s all I was going to say, Tina. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” “And Angie already knew about it,” Tina said, annoyed. “Was it just that one time that you heard?” “Yes,” Bennie said, feeling guilty. “I’m sorry, Tina. I shouldn’t have said anything about it.” “It’s fine,” Tina said, shaking her head in exasperation. “I overheard them, too. I wish you and Angie would have confided in me. I felt terrible about it.” “Again, I’m sorry,” Bennie said. “I think I felt sorry for Tiffany because it was clear Dad was using her to build his ego,” Tina replied. “Isn’t that just like a man,” Angie said, returning without Devon. “I’ve never heard him use the tone of voice he used with her.” “She obviously doesn’t understand subtlety,” Bennie said. “Anyway, we don’t have to worry about Tiffany because I just overheard Dad talking to Kathy!” Angie said. “Kathy I can tolerate,” Bennie said. “Because Mom liked her.” “I really like her,” Tina said. “Her little daughter is sweet, too.” “I’m sorry but I can’t wait to get back to school,” Angie said. “Whatever he’s going to do, I wish he’d just do it and leave us out of it.” The others giggled, because they knew Angie didn’t mean it.

With winter approaching, even the guardhouse was dark, the over-fifty-five trailer park where Kathy Agin’s mother lived was quiet for a holiday weekend. Late Saturday night after leaving Jason, she pulled in with a sleeping Laura in back. Still feeling the glow after spending the day with him, his kiss helped her rethink the possibilities with him.

Smiling, she got out of the car and went to the back seat. Laura was getting almost too big to carry inside, but she’d struggle under her weight rather than wake her. Grateful how loving Harley’s children were with Laura, if anything more developed between Jason and her the kids would be okay. Closing her eyes, she said in a whisper, “Harley, thank you. I hope this makes you happy.”

***

Trying to recover from Jason’s rebuke, Tiffany spent the weekend with her young girlfriends including a few nurses who knew about him. “We tried to tell you it was too early for Jason,” Jaclyn said. “No offense, but I didn’t think you were in the running no matter what.” “And now you’re the great seer,” Tiffany said, disgusted. “No, but I am wise,” Jaclyn replied. “In the first place, you made it difficult for him on the job, the way you spread around his private business. I’ll never forget talking to his wife in the lounge. I knew then I should’ve kept my mouth shut.” “You were stupid to engage her, not wise,” Tiffany said. Tiffany heard Jacklyn’s words loud and clear. “What else makes you think I’m not in the running?” “I wondered if you were going to respond or pretend you didn’t hear me. You’re too young for him, that’s why. Jason looks like he’s thirty, but he’s almost forty and his kids aren’t that much younger than you are.” “Yeah, and those kids, O-M-G. What a bunch of brats. Everything that comes out of the youngest one’s mouth is praised like she’s a genius.” “I rest my case,” Jacklyn said, smirking. “I’d give him a wide berth if I were you. He’s got more seniority than you do, too.” “And I might add,” another nurse, Nicole said. “The new residents are due to come in Monday.” “Ah,” Jaclyn said. “The New Zoo Review.” The women laughed. It was historically hectic when new residents came on board. The younger, single nurses excitedly prepared for a new batch of possible dating

material, switching the focus from impending chaos to potential romance. “I’m glad you reminded me,” Tiffany said. “I’d completely forgotten about that!” “Would you really go out with someone else?” Jaclyn asked. “I mean you’ve waited this long for Jason. Why give up now?” “You just got done telling me I’m too young for Jason. What he needs is a dose of his own medicine. I need to flaunt another guy in front of him. When’s the Christmas party? That’s as good a time as any.” “Harley and Jason never went to any party the OR had. You have a short memory.” “Oh, right,” Tiffany said, thinking. “I’ll get even with him somehow.”

It wouldn’t take long for Tiffany to get even with Jason. The Monday after Thanksgiving, when everything was blessedly back to normal except for Harley’s absence, Jason noticed Tiffany was avoiding him. Assigned to another room, the first time he saw her that day was entering the lounge for a break. Leaning against the wall, talking with Andy about the next sporting event they would go to together, Andy elbowed him as she passed them on the way to the coffee machine without acknowledging him. Jason raised his eyebrows up and down, and they stifled laughter. Her countenance was so elementary school, and Jason was so happy he saw it, relieved he hadn’t made too many mistakes with Tiffany. “Hey Tiffany,” Andy said, Jason kicking him. “What’s going on?” “Go to hell, both of you,” she said, provoking laughter among the staff sitting around the long table. “What did I do?” he asked, sincerely confused. “Not everyone likes you, Forman,” she said, throwing the spoon she used to stir her coffee into the sink where it hit with a bang. Jason never said a word, watching Tiffany sweep around like a diva, sitting down near the end of the table. Next, a handsome young resident entered the lounge. Catching her eye, she waved him over. “Help yourself to coffee,” she said. “New orthopedic chief resident,” Andy whispered. “Okay, gotcha,” Jason said, nodding. “You sure work fast,” Nicole said to her, coming in for a break. The room burst out

laughing again, angering Tiffany, but Jason had to hand it to her; she did a great job getting over it. “You’re just jealous,” Tiffany answered, leading to more laughter. Nicole’s face turned red, but she didn’t get defensive, she asked for it. “I’m getting out of here,” Jason whispered to Andy. “I’m right behind you,” Andy said, and they left the lounge. The resident went to the coffee pot and Tiffany quickly turned to Nicole. “If you say a word, I’ll kill you,” she hissed. But Nicole just laughed, shaking her head. “You’ll dig your own grave with that one, honey. I won’t have to say a word.” The prophetic words resonating, and the new resident latched on to Tiffany the first day, and by Christmas they would be engaged, Tiffany flashing her ostentatious diamond around, relieving Jason of any guilt his flirtation propagated.

Chapter 32 Preparations for Christmas forged ahead, effectively leaving little time for sadness. Each of the family grieved in their own way. Jason’s struggles with loneliness segued to simply missing Harley as he and Kathy Agin spent more time together. He still woke up periodically in the middle of the night, crying. Anything which reminded him of Harley he relished, unwilling to let go completely. She’d always be the love of his life. Bennie stayed busy with her job and classes, missing her mother terribly, but making more decisions on her own. Angie shocked everyone confessing she was homesick, the family looking forward to her homecoming every Friday night. Tina worked harder than ever at school. Without Albie, who’d acted as a needed distraction, she drove herself, continuing to make exemplary grades. Devon flourished under Kathy and Laura’s attention, the regression she suffered after Harley’s death stopping as abruptly as it had started. Kathy’s willingness to encourage Harley’s presence would keep her memory alive for the rest of Devon’s life. Once Jason accepted that Kathy was important in their lives, her move couldn’t happen fast enough. The week after Thanksgiving, she began the search for an apartment near her new teaching job. “I’ll be nearby next week,” she told Jason over the phone. “I’m coming in early Saturday morning. We’re going to stay with Bea.” As much as he would have liked to tell her to stay with him, it was better if that didn’t happen so early in their relationship. The choices he made as an adult were much different from those he made as a dating single man in his twenties. He didn’t love Kathy Agin, but he was fond of her and admired the same things about her that Harley appeared to have liked. At night, he lay in bed, fingering Glenn Bloom’s dog tags like they were rosary beads, praying with his eyes closed. The prayerful conversations morphed into Jason

whispering to Harley, talking to her about what was happening, or thinking out loud. Then, he’d have to be careful not to refer to it in a conversation with his family, not always successfully. “I told Harley about Kathy’s job and looking for an apartment here and she seemed really happy.” Fran was there, unloading the dishwasher while Jason had a cup of coffee after work. Stopping with a dish poised near the cabinet, she looked at him worriedly. “You told Harley.” Realizing what he’d admitted to his mother, Jason started to laugh, a rich belly laugh unlike anything he’d produced for months. “I knew I was going to slip one day. I’m just glad it was you and not one of the girls. Yes Mom, I talk to Harley all the time. Full conversations. Do you think I’m nuts?” Pulling out a chair next to him, Fran sat down, the dish still in her hand. “No, I don’t think you’re nuts. I do the same thing. I even pray to her.” “You do?” “Yes. You know how Harley was the girl who got things done? Well, I miss that. She was so dependable. So now I count on her help but coming from a different plane.” “Oh boy, that’s a little spooky,” Jason said. Fran grabbed his hand. “Think about it! She’s watching over her girls. I feel it. Even Devi told me she believes her mommy is close by. I’m telling you, don’t underestimate that kid. She’s deep, Devon is.” “Now you’re freakin’ me out, Mom.” “Don’t be. It should comfort you knowing she’s still around us.” Signs of Harley’s presence multiplied as time went on, rather than diminished. “Do any of you have Mom’s dog tags?” Jason asked one night after dinner. “I usually keep them in my top drawer and they’re gone.” “I didn’t take them,” Devon said. “I know better.” “Me either,” Bennie said, Tina concurring. “No, I didn’t really think you did. It’s just odd they disappeared. Maybe Maryanne took them. They really belong to her.” The next morning, Jason reached into his locker for his stethoscope, his fingers

grabbing a nubby object instead and he pulled out Glenn’s dog tags. “What the…” he exclaimed. Looking around, confused. Running through all the possibilities how the tags could have gotten into his locker, he settled on the obvious one; he’d forgotten they were around his neck and when he took his clothes off the day before and hung his sweatshirt on the hook, the tags were caught onto it as well. That evening when he dressed again after work, he’d left the tags behind. There was no other explanation. Looping the chain around his neck, he tucked the tags into his scrub top, and throughout the day, the sensation of the cool chain on his flesh was a constant reminder of Harley. Returning home that evening, he related the story of the discovered dog tags to his girls. “I’m going to call Angie and tell her about this,” Tina said. “It’s so weird!” Similar reminders of Harley popped up all the time. Slowly, the items gathered from around the house to make a bedside memorial for Harley found the way back to their original places, her tea mug the first thing noticed. After dinner, Tina, who’d taken charge of the evening coffee ritual, put a pot of decaf on and rummaged through the cabinet, looking for mugs. Surprising each family member with a special mug, Tina loved the reactions she’d get. Reaching for an unfamiliar one far in the back, it didn’t register right away which mug it was until she turned it around. It was a large white mug with Harley’s nursing school alma mater; Drexel University 1891, with Science, Industry and Art printed on a triangle overlaying crossed torches, within a double circle. “Here’s Mom’s mug,” Tina announced, bringing it to the table. “It was stuck in back of the cabinet.” “That’s supposed to be in her bedroom,” Bennie said, frowning. “Maybe Granny Fran put it away,” Devon said. Jason walked in on the conversation. “I thought the memorial is looking a little sparse. She must be putting things away. I’ll talk to her about it.” “I’m not ready to put stuff away yet,” Tina said. “I like having everything in one place.” “Me, too,” Jason said.

But Fran denied touching it. “I even add things to it,” she said. “Notice her nursing school graduation picture? That was from Maryanne. We agree it’s helpful having that set up. It’s helping us grieve.” The next strange occurrence took place on Christmas Eve. They were spending Christmas at the shore so Maryanne wouldn’t have to drive so far and Kathy’s mother could be with them, too. Harley’s pumpkin pies took center stage again, along with her macaroni salad. Fran reached into the refrigerator to pull out a pie to serve with the Feast of the Seven Fishes. Handing it to Bea, Fran turned back to the refrigerator to get the whipped cream. “Unwrap that please, will you?” she asked. Bea lifted a corner of the foil so as not to break the crust. “Oh! Someone couldn’t wait,” she said, pushing the plate closer to Fran. “What are you talking about?” Fran asked, turning back to her. Bea was standing at the counter, looking down at the pie with a perfect eighth cut out. “A piece is missing,” she said. Fran yelped and put her hand over her mouth. “Oh my God,” she said, genuflecting. “Harley used to mark the crust like that. Into eighths. Then, she’d take the first piece out so the pie would be easier to serve at the table. It looks exactly like something Harley would do.” “Granny, you’re losing it,” Bea said worried. “I swear to you, I didn’t touch the pie. Ask Angie! She just put it in there.” “I’m going to,” Bea said, scared, texting Angie to join them in the kitchen. “Stuff like this has been happening to me, too.” “Like what?” Fran asked, fascinated. “When Harley was interviewing women on LoveMatch, she decided on two she liked for Jason; Kathy and that Anna girl who came to the house on game night. “Oh. The one you were jealous of,” Fran said. “Whatever. She wrote letters to both women, just in case Jason ended up with one of them. She’d asked me to throw them away when Kathy decided she didn’t want to continue but I forgot to do it. “When Jason and Kathy went on that date, I searched all over the house for the

letters. I knew where I put them; in a plastic shoebox on the top shelf of my laundry room supply cabinet. But they weren’t there! I wanted to tear up the one to Anna in case I died and Dave decided to pull a fast one and send it off to her.” “Like Dave would do, I guess,” Fran replied. “Exactly like Dave. So I couldn’t find the letters, but then last night out of nowhere, when we were loading up the car, I found the box in my closet.” “Did Dave put it there?” Fran asked. “Or one of the girls?” “Everyone denied touching the box.” “Did you throw away the letter to Anna?” “Not yet because I suddenly thought, what if Jason changes his mind and decides to date her instead of Kathy? I’d better wait until he’s married again before I start throwing stuff away.” “Oh, I’d love to read them,” Fran said, hopeful. “Well, you’ll have to wait. I don’t even know what they say. She sealed the envelopes and sent them to me. They’re postmarked and everything, with the words Not to Be Opened Until THE WEDDING written on the envelope.” “Harley was so organized,” Fran said, tenderly. “She really was amazing,” Bea said. “You rang, Aunt Bea,” Angie said. Bea slid the pie over to her. “Look,” she said. Angie screamed. “No way!” “See? She didn’t do it, either,” Bea said, palms up. “What’s going on?” Angie asked, frightened. “I think your mother is trying to signal us,” Fran said, triumphant. “I’ve been telling Jason for weeks. This is proof.” Calming down, Angie shook her head. “It’s impossible,” she said. “Someone is teasing us. I mean, it doesn’t feel destructive to me. It feels playful.” “Who’s playful?” Bennie joined the group. Angie pushed the pie over to her. “What do you think?” “Mom!” she hollered. “This is so cool, who did it?” “We don’t know. I put the pies in the fridge when we got here, and this happened

sometime after that. I know for sure that was a whole pie when I covered it.” “Could Jason have taken a piece?” “Get real, Granny,” Bennie replied. “Have you ever seen a pie Dad’s cut into? It looks like he used an ax.” “That’s true,” Fran said. “I guess we won’t know. We’re the only ones who know how Harley cut a pie. It’s not like a stranger came in to tease us.” “To hell with that,” Bea said. “I’m asking everyone here. For all we know, Dave is up to it.” “Dave didn’t know anything about Harley’s obsessive pie cutting, did he?” “No, you’ve got a point, Fran. But it didn’t just happen. I mean, I don’t believe in ghosts.” The women huddled around the pie, wheels turning in all their brains. “I guess we’ll never know,” Angie said. “It’s sort of sweet. Like someone is trying to force us to remember the little things we’d forget about her.” “I’m not afraid,” Fran said. “Me either,” Bea replied. “I mean at first I was, but not now.” Reaching for the sisters, Bea hugged them, pulling Fran into the huddle. “I wonder what else will crop up this weekend.” “Once you start looking for the supernatural, you’ll see it everywhere,” Fran said. They agreed they’d keep an eye out for any untoward occurrence, thinking the same thing but not voicing it; whatever they could do to keep Harley’s memory alive, they’d do. No one noticed Kathy lurking in the hallway, a tear rolling down her cheek, but a smile on her face.

After dinner, Kathy and Laura acted as gaming ring leaders. “You like cards, you’ve got the right woman for the job,” Dave said. “Leave it to my brother to bring a Black Jack dealer to Christmas Eve Game Night.” Kathy laughed good-naturedly. “Take a seat, Dave. Everyone, let’s get this party started,” she called out. “I think I’m too full of fish to play cards tonight,” Joe said. “If you don’t mind, I’m

moving to the couch.” “Pop, when do you ever play cards?” Devon asked, everyone joining in the laughter. “Okay, Pop is exempt from cards,” Kathy said. “I have a lot to learn.” “You’re doing fine,” Bea said. “Everyone sit down!” Kathy dealt the cards while the family pulled chairs around the table. Even after the meal, snacks abounded, bowls of popcorn for Tina and chocolate covered pretzels for Amanda, trays of cheese and crackers and little hors de oeuvres Fran found in the frozen foods at Costco. “Look at these little pigs in a blanket Granny made!” Devon shouted. Fran and Maryanne hovered at the backs of chairs, filling drink orders; lemonade for Kathy, hot cocoa for Devon. Betsy, Kathy’s mother, sat on a bar stool watching the game, wondering how the family had come through the horror of losing the mother of these girls and still able to play games. “They seem to be doing pretty good,” she said to Fran, nodding toward the girls. “Well, in a few months it will be almost a year that she’s been gone. They couldn’t find the strength to play games for a while after, but having Kathy around has really helped. She keeps everyone going.” “I know from Kathy having Laura that it’s rough being a single parent,” Betsy said under her breath. “Where’s her dad?” Fran asked. “I’ll let Kathy share that story,” Betsy said, frowning . “She’s really a dear,” Fran said, sorry she pried. “We’ve enjoyed having them both here.” “How nice,” Betsy said. “Kathy raves about how great everyone has been with Laura.” “Yes, well….” Fran didn’t know what to say, happy Kathy and Laura felt welcome, but unsure whether they would become members of the family. “So, how are you feeling about Kathy moving so far away?” “It will be different,” Betsy said. “But it’ll free me up. I think people assume grandparents don’t want to do anything but babysit for their grandchildren. I have a life

to live and with Laura and Kathy out of the house, I can start living.” Fran felt like she’d been punched in the face. The insult was raw, yet she understood the woman could have no idea of the impact her words had. “I pretty much lived my life babysitting for Harley,” she said, nodding her head to the game table. “Those young women in there? Harley and Jason’s girls? I took care of them from the time they were infants. It never occurred to me to want anything else from life.” Betsy felt terrible. “I’m sorry Fran. I can see I offended you. Of course, it’s different for each person. It’s great you were fulfilled caring for your son’s children. From what Kathy tells me, they are wonderful young women.” “I’m not offended,” Fran said. “Devon’s in school all day now, so I only go there in the morning after Jason leaves for work to get her and Tina off to school. I don’t have much to do.” She looked at Betsy curiously. “What are you going to do with Laura so far away now? Will you get a job?” “Oh no. I worked full-time all my life. I want to volunteer at a soup kitchen. Cooking for big groups, now that’s what I want to do.” Fran’s interest perked up. “That would be something I could really get into. I like to cook, too.” Betsy swept her eyes around the beach house kitchen, at the fancy mixers and other appliances a foodie might own. “I can tell,” she said laughing. “Why don’t you join me?” “I’d love to, but we live two hours from here,” Fran said, disappointed. “Oh, right. Well, what if you join me when you’re here? And I can find something up by you for when I’m visiting Kathy and Laura.” Thinking for a moment, Fran wasn’t familiar with the feeling she had, of warm excitement, even hope. Was Betsy going to be her friend? Looking directly at her, Fran smiled. “I don’t have any friends,” she said. “Maybe that’s why I was so involved in my son’s lives.” “Yes you do,” Betsy replied, grinning. “You have me and we’re about to run amuck. Tell your husband not to expect you at dinner from here on out. He’ll have to come to the Atlantic City Mission for his meals from now on.” The women grabbed on to each other’s arms, laughing at the vision of the two of them

behind the counter at the mission, wearing hair nets and white uniforms, serving meals to hungry people. “Oh, I can’t wait,” Fran said. “I can’t tell you how excited I am.” “Me, too,” Betsy replied. Then in a soft voice, with reverence, she glanced over at the family playing a card game. “We have Harley to thank.”

Chapter 33 During the week between Christmas and New Year, Kathy and Laura moved from Betsy’s trailer in Sea Isle to an apartment within walking distance to Jason’s house. Because he’d taken the week off to be with the girls while school was out, Jason had offered to help her, but Kathy didn’t want to impose on their budding relationship. Borrowing a pickup truck from a fellow Black Jack dealer and with her help, she loaded the few household possessions she owned into the back and drove with Laura to Pennsylvania. “Do you realize this is exactly half way between me and Jason?” Bea said as they moved a dresser into position. “You really picked a perfect place.” Needing Bea’s help to unload the truck, Kathy swore her to secrecy. “I’d rather that Jason not know I enlisted your help,” she explained. “He’ll wonder why I refused his help.” “I understand,” Bea said. “Sometimes I think Dave stays in our marriage because he’s afraid I won’t be able to handle the house and kids alone.” “I’ve never been married so I don’t know about that, but I can see how needing each other would be part of the relationship. I’m just not ready for him to think I’m dependent on him.” With a finger on her chin, Kathy turned around in the center of the living room, trying to get a feel for the place. “I’m not sure this will be home. It doesn’t seem like it, but it will be a place to hang my hat for a year.” “It’s in a nice, quiet neighborhood. I think it will be great. And you’re so close, we can have meals together. Harley and I used to do it, and sometimes when Fran cooked over there, she’d make enough for my family. I have to admit, I’m not a big cook.” “I’d love to cook but I’ve worked nights for so long I forgot how. That’s my excuse,” Kathy said.

“Well, you’ve got a week before school starts to break in your kitchen,” Bea said. Then pensively, “Are you ready?” “To teach? Gosh, I hope so,” Kathy replied. It was scary; the thought of starting her chosen career almost ten years since she’d finished her student teaching, hoping she’d be good at it. She loved kids and loved science and history. It’ll be fine. “I’ve got to get some furniture,” she said changing the subject. “Right away.” “Is your stuff in storage?” Bea asked. Kathy never discussed her history with anyone but Harley and it seemed Harley had kept her confidence. “Nope, I don’t have anything. I’ve always lived with my mom. I mean, for a few years before Laura was born I was on my own, but after she came along, I stayed with Betsy.” Curious about Laura’s father, Bea waited, hoping she’d fill in the blanks, but nothing more was said. Nothing had been said when they first made contact with her on LoveMatch. “Besides, this is a fresh start and anything I had from my old life wouldn’t fit in. I really didn’t want to take our beds from my mother’s house, but she insisted. I think she’s going to turn our bedrooms into craft rooms so we can’t move back in.” Laughing, Bea agreed that was probably what her mother had done when she moved in with Dave. “So what’s next?” Bea asked. “We have an entire week.” “I guess everyone is going to recover from Christmas. I’ve got to get settled before school is back in session.”

That was how Kathy and Laura started integrating into the Jones’ life. The girls were ecstatic about helping Kathy decorate her apartment. Surprisingly, she gave them free reign. “You’re not going to let Tina decorate your living room are you,” Fran asked, a look of horror on her face. “Granny, what’s that supposed to mean?” Tina asked. “I thought you liked my style.” “I do, I do,” Fran said quickly, trying to redeem herself. “It’s just that you like those bright colors and Kathy seems so…” “Dull,” Kathy finished her sentence. “You can say it. I’ve been told I’m plain all my

life.” “No, I wasn’t going to use that word!” Fran said, mortified. “What I was going to say is that you are more conservative. Don’t get me wrong, Tina!” She pulled her granddaughter over and kissed her, eliciting giggles. “You’ll never get bored with Tina’s decorating, that’s for sure.” “I could use a little excitement in my house,” Kathy said. “That settles it. Tina, you’re in charge.” “I already know how I want to do the bathroom,” Angie said. “It’ll be a surprise.” “It is the dullest apartment,” Kathy replied. “Bland. I think it needs all the surprises it can get.” “We should keep Daddy away until it’s finished,” Tina said. “He’ll be shocked.” “Will he ever,” Angie replied. “You’re not going to sabotage it, are you?” Kathy asked, giggling. “No, I promise you, you’ll love it,” Angie said.

And she did. The living room was warm and inviting. They’d found a couch at the Salvation Army that was covered in nubby violet fabric and made that the centerpiece of the room. It was easy adding to it. Kathy loved it, and Jason was impressed. “My girls did this? Wow, it’s great!” “Now I can entertain,” Kathy said. “You’re all invited for dinner on Saturday night. We can have game night here if you’d like.” “We’ll bring card tables and folding chairs,” Bea said. “I’m so excited!” The girls were happy, too. All except Angie. “I never thought I’d say this but I don’t want to go back to school,” she complained. “I feel like I’m missing out on too much.” “Finish out the year,” Jason said. “I don’t like you gone, either. You can do like Bennie’s doing; community college and online classes at Drexel if you want, or go someplace closer.” “I’ll do online. I wish I’d thought of it sooner.” Jason hugged her, understanding that her senior year in high school was overshadowed by Harley dying. “Going away to college probably seemed like an escape at the time,” he said, Angie nodding.

“I’ll start the countdown now. Six months until June! Freedom!”

The week passed in a blur. Jason and the girls stayed busy, one day picking up Melissa and her family and together driving to Northeast Philly to see Kelly. The girls went off to play with Melissa’s little ones while the sisters cornered Jason. “What’s going on with Kathy?” Melissa asked. “We like her very much, so feel free to talk about her.” Jason laughed, his sister-in-laws always to the point. “She’s moved nearby, so it will be easier for us to see her more often,” he said. “That’s about it.” “But what about the romance department?” Kelly asked, pressing. “Harley wanted a companion for you, Jason. Not just a mother for the girls. She was worried about you, too.” “I’m okay,” he replied, trying to sound convincing. “It’s too early.” There were still so many raw areas; he slept hugging Harley’s long johns, rolled into a ball. How could he involve himself with another woman romantically when her clothes were hanging next to his in the closet? Her toothbrush was still in the holder next to his. A month after she died, Fran and Maryanne asked him if he was ready for them to take Harley’s things away, and he decompensated. “Don’t touch her things!” he cried. Going through the motions of life was easy for him; pretending he was great while on the job, finding comfort in the routines he and the girls had established. Even bringing Kathy into his life along with her daughter, as long as they kept it simple, he was fine. But beyond that, thinking of a life stretching over that hump that was the loss of the love of his life, forget it. Fortunately, Kathy was occupied with settling into the new apartment with Laura before school started. The time she spent with Jason was enjoyable but stress free. As long as she was willing to take her time and wasn’t making any demands on him, they’d be okay. One of the things that had attracted her to him was her self-reliance. And, he thought, she was the complete opposite of Tiffany. Tiffany. So regretful for having made Harley worry about Tiffany to the point that she’d resort to the online dating thing, the guilt was ongoing for Jason. Fortunately, over Christmas vacation, the resident would give her an engagement ring, which Tiffany was

quick to brandish around, holding her hand close to Jason’s nose so he wouldn’t miss it. The diamond was impressive, and Jason saw right away what she was attempting to prove to him. “Tiffany, congratulations! That’s fantastic,” Jason said, relief flowing through his body like ice water, giving him goosebumps. “That’s an impressive rock.” “Yes, he’s in love with me,” she said, her nose in the air. “Well, I’m very happy for you,” Jason said. “You deserve it.”

Although Tiffany’s engagement wouldn’t exonerate his bad behavior before Harley’s death, it did clear the way for him to move on with his life without having to worry about Tiffany showing up again. “How long are you going to wait until you take your relationship with Kathy to the next level?” Kelly asked. “She’s already involved with the family,” Jason said. “She’s at every family function. Game night, holidays, trips to the shore.” “You know what we mean,” Melissa said. “I’m not ready to give up my life with Harley,” he said. “You want the truth, there it is. I think the girls like it this way, too. She could be at the grocery store, or visiting you, or down with Maryanne. When I’m ready to say goodbye to Harley, maybe I can do that again, with Kathy. You’re assuming she wants to be with us.” “The woman moved to a different state, almost next door to you. How much more proof do you need?” “It’s only been a month,” Jason said. “Can you give us a little longer before you start pressing us to get married?” The sisters laughed, getting his point. “Oh, right,” Melissa said. “It seems like much longer because Harley met her a year ago. Kathy had a head start.” “Could you give me a year, too?” Jason asked. “Jeesh, she was your sister.” “We know, Jay,” Melissa said, hugging him. “I’m sorry. We could happily go on forever pretending she’s in the next room, but I don’t think that would be fair to you.” “Gosh, I miss her,” Kelly said. “I can’t believe it’s been almost a year already.” Devon came into the room, going to Jason and putting her arms around him. “Daddy, I miss Mommy,” she said, bursting into tears. “Did something happen back there?” Kelly whispered.

“We do, too,” Melissa answered. “Are you sad today?” “Being with you guys makes me miss her. I saw the pictures on your dresser, Aunt Kelly.” Kelly nodded, shrugging her shoulders. “I have my memorial, too.” They huddled around her, soothing her. “It’s too early,” Jason whispered. “Everyone needs more time.”

March

Chapter 34 Joe Jones slid into the crawlspace under his cottage in Sea Isle with a wrench in his hand, preparing to turn the water on. He could hear his wife of forty years walking around above him, opening windows even though it was still only fifty degrees outside. “I’ll give the place a good airing out,” she’d said. Old habits of leaving their cottage in perfect condition when they left it make the transition back into shore life after winter so much easier. Over the past year, they’d kept it open until after Christmas at the request of Jason. Joe knew it might have its roots in guilt, the sudden affection Jason seemed to have for the place; in years past, they had to beg him to bring his family for a weekend. There were always excuses; he was too busy at home, he was on call for work, one of the girls had a sporting event they had to participate in. As long as Jason didn’t have to show up, their other son, Dave was off the hook. But when Harley got sick and all she wanted was to spend every second she had left down the shore, it changed the dynamic for everyone. Even extended family started to show up, and the dream Fran and Joe had of a house full of people with fun and games and delicious food finally happened. Not since their sons were little boys did they have so much fun. Now, of course, with Harley gone, although it was still busy every weekend, it was different. Kathy and her daughter were sweet and they fit in but it was going to take time for the older people to get used to them. They were after all, strangers. The grandmother, Betsy, had become in a few short months Fran’s best friend, and that was helping the transition. Betsy was expected to arrive any moment, saying she’d looked forward to the reopening of the house like the second coming. “Now that you are in my life, I don’t know how I survived before. I was so lonely,” she’d said.

The water ran through the pipes, Joe heard the telltale squeaky sound. On hands and knees, he crawled out the crawlspace opening, greeted by the sound of tires on gravel. “Welcome to the shore!” Betsy shouted, spotting him at the side of the house. “Fran’s inside,” Joe called, waving. “It’s good to be back.” “I just talked to Jason,” Fran said, coming out to greet her. “They’ll be down around noon. Kathy is enrolling Laura in T-ball and registration is this morning.” “I brought a pan of macaroni and cheese,” Betsy said, pointing over her shoulder. “That recipe you gave me that has the cream cheese in it.” “Oh my lord, women how the hell is a man supposed to stay healthy with cream cheese in every dish.” Standing up, he brushed the dirt off his knees. “You’ll get over it,” Fran said. “Are you putting that boat in the water this weekend?” “I think so,” Joe said. “Good weather forecasted.” “Well you’ll burn the cream cheese off then,” she said, laughing. Family members steamed in for the next two hours; Maryanne came up from Delaware, also unloading food. Joe peeked under foil covering a large pan of something still hot. “Bread pudding?” he said, smelling vanilla and cinnamon. “I’m sunk.” Maryanne gave a rare laugh. “Me too, but you only live once,” she said. The impact of her words, the realization that it had been a year to the day that Harley had died was sobering, but they moved beyond it. “Thanks,” Joe said, leaning in to give her a kiss. “Fran is inside with Kathy’s mother.” “I like her,” Maryanne said. “I can see why Harley chose Kathy for Jason.” “I’m glad,” Joe said. Jason and Bea told the family about Harley’s plan to find the right wife and mother for her family. It mystified Joe, how unselfish it was for Harley to spend the last days of her life planning for her family like she did, slipping in a new family member to help take her place. Fran watched Joe and Maryanne walking toward the cottage, could hear their conversation about Harley and Kathy, imagining the wheels turning in her husband’s head. He was such a blessing; she needed to make sure she told him how much she

loved him as soon as she had a chance. Handing the pan of pudding to Fran, Joe turned back to the car. “This is just the beginning of it,” he said. “What’d you do?” Fran asked, astonished. Maryanne was as thin as a rail, yet she cooked non-stop. “I had a slow week,” Maryanne replied, laughing. “There was nothing to do but cook. Now maybe you can relax this weekend.” “I’m so glad you’re here,” Fran said, meaning it. “You know how it is,” Maryanne said. “Before I retired, there was no time.” “Well, I’m so happy you want to be with us,” Fran said. “I feel like Harley is still alive, lurking somewhere.” “Me too, but sadly, she’s not. Her absence is slowly becoming a reality to me. She won’t be here this weekend.” “No, but the girls will be, and Tina has already asked me if we’ll take her to the Goodwill.” “Ha! I’d love to,” Maryanne laughed. “I picked up a few things for her last week.” After Joe unloaded the rest of the food from Maryanne’s car, he went to the shed to prepare items he needed to get the boat ready. The outboard motor was in the back of his van. When the boys arrived, they’d help him carry it over to the boat which was covered with a tarp. The old boat had given the family so much entertainment, he was grateful for it and the cottage. The despair he felt the previous year when everything seemed so bleak was like it had never happened. They’d always miss Harley, but they’d survived her departure. All they could do now was look forward.

Saturday morning sleep becoming too important to Dave; he made the decision Friday night that he would get up as soon as he awoke instead of lazing around in bed trying to fall back to sleep. The first thing he did when he opened his eyes was reach for the phone to look at the time. “Oh, God,” he moaned. It was only six-thirty. “What’s wrong?” Bea said, turning over. “Why are you awake?” “I promised myself I’d get up when I woke up naturally, without the alarm.”

“Your alarm doesn’t go off until seven,” she said, turning back over. “Go to sleep.” “I’m up now,” he said, getting out of bed. “Well I’m still sleeping, so keep it down.” “What time do you want to leave?” he asked. “Dave, do you mind?” Grumbling, he left their bedroom for the kitchen and the coffee pot. Sitting at the table with a pot already made was nineteen year old Amanda. “Morning, Dad,” she said. “This is early for you.” “Why are you up already?” he asked, reaching for a cup. “I’m anxious to get to the shore. I haven’t seen the cousins in a while,” she answered. Amanda went to school in New Jersey, and although she was close enough to come home every weekend, she had a job. It would be the first weekend since the holidays that she’d been able to get home. Dave bent over and kissed the top of her head. “I’m proud of you, Amanda,” he said. “My brother’s kids don’t know what they want. The last I heard, Angie was moving home in the summer and going to school at community college like Bennie did.” “Dad, her mother just died. Give her a break.” Glancing at her father, Amanda was shocked at his callousness, trying not to give it more significance than was warranted. At the stage where she was hypercritical of her parents, she was aware of it, wanting to show him the respect he deserved, but realizing she didn’t really like him all that much. “Boy, they will milk that for all it was worth,” he said, getting up. “Do you want eggs for breakfast?” Stunned, Amanda rose from the table. “It’s too early for me for eggs,” she said, leaving the room. Dave watched her walk away, understanding voicing his intolerance was probably the cause but not caring. Running up the stairs to her room, Amanda decided she was going to ask Sally if she wanted to drive to the shore with her instead of going with the family. Maybe a little distance was in order between her and her father. While the drama unfolded, the smell of frying onions woke Bea up permanently. “What is he doing?” she mumbled, getting out of bed. Walking out to the kitchen, she saw Dave with a fork in his hands, moving something

around in a frying pan. “I take it by the smell you’re making an omelet,” she said. Frowning at her, it was obvious he was in a snit already and it not eight in the morning yet. “Yeah, right again, Bea. Do you want any?” “No thanks, not yet,” she said turning away. “Your daughter was rude and disrespectful to me this morning,” he said, with an edge to his voice. “Which one?” Bea asked turning back. “Amanda.” Bea had to think about it for a moment. Their girls were the sweetest, most easy going teenaged girls she’d ever met next to Harley’s girls. “Amanda?” she asked, confused. “What brought that on?” “I told her how proud I was of her and she turned on me,” he said, throwing the spatula down. “It was completely unwarranted. As a matter of fact, I felt like she was purposely provoking me.” That behavior was so unlike anything either of her daughters would do; Bea didn’t want to say anything until she thought about it for a while, afraid any response would be deemed defensive by Dave in his current mood. Sitting down at the table, watching him, the latest bevy of Dave’s complaints and missteps passed through her memory. He’d been rude to her in front of their friends, stayed out all night the previous Saturday and never gave her an explanation, and had recently charged up their joint credit card with purchases from a local department store that he refused to account for. Fear that he was involving himself with Candace Baker again, Bea was resigned that there was nothing she could do about it but allow the stage to run its course. “Do you want me to speak to her?” Bea asked, hoping to sound supportive. But with Dave’s existing frame of mind, it back fired. “She’s acting like she is because of you. You don’t have any respect for me so why should our children?” Dumbfounded, Bea bit her tongue. His statement was so unfair, it revealed just how muddled he was. If he really believed that he was being disrespected, there was absolutely nothing Bea could do about it. No amount of kowtowing was going to change his mind at this point, so she just stared at him, giving him the opportunity to unload on her which he did with fervor, Bea letting the words pass by without really hearing them.

When he was finished, Bea allowed make-believe in to her thoughts. What would her life be like if Dave left? Thinking of only the negatives this time; in the past she fantasized about living alone, how peaceful it would be without his critical comments. The negatives would include not being welcome at the shore house, Dave with another woman, her daughters and Michael spending the weekend with their father there, Jason and Kathy befriending his new woman, having to listen to the kids talk about how wonderful she was. The scenario sparked something within Bea that set off a torrent of laughing. “What’s so damn funny?” he growled. “I’m just thinking about how great it will be for all of us to drive to the shore together with you angry. What a great weekend it will be while you hole up in the den, glued to the TV, barking orders at your mother, insulting me, staring at Kathy’s ass. I can hardly wait.” “Sally and I are driving there alone,” Amanda said, entering the kitchen in the middle of Bea’s speech. Smirking, she’d heard every word. “Why?” Dave asked. “It’ll be a waste of gas.” “I pay for my own gas card, Dad,” she said. “Why do you want to be with such a disrespectful child, anyway? I’d think you’d be thrilled I won’t be in the same car.” “You know what? I’m not going to Sea Isle. Be my guest, all of you. I’ll stay here.” “And spend the weekend with Candace?” Bea said, shocking Amanda. “Don’t you dare bring her around here. I’ll tell the neighbors to be on the look out for her and if there are any sightings, they can call me right away.” Finally reduced to silence, Dave stormed from the kitchen, his omelet left on the stove. Bea watched him flee. Their relationship was like that, cyclic, periods of bliss followed by Divorce Court. But those periods of bliss were getting fewer and far between. “I guess it’s not fair to you kids, what’s happening between me and Daddy,” Bea said. “Poor Michael, the minute a voice is raised he flees for his earbuds.” “Smart kid,” Amanda said. “Well, I’m sorry about everything because I think I started this particular uprising. But we’re leaving for the shore whether you and Daddy come or not. I miss my cousins and I want to be in on the budding romance. Sally tells me so

far, there’s nothing to see.” “That’s what my observations are. They are taking it slow. Very slow,” she said, stretching the R in very out. “Slow is good.” Sally joined them, pulling bags along. “Let’s get going. I can’t wait to get there. Mom, is there anything we can take for you?” “No, I’m not even sure we’re going,” Bea said. “Dad’s mad at me,” Amanda explained. “So what else is new? Come on, Amanda. I want to go. Mom, you should come with us. Let Dad act like a spoiled child. I’m so sick of it.” “Try to have some respect for him, even if it’s just for me to have peace,” Bea begged. “Thanks for the invitation, but I had better stick around to see what he has in mind.” She didn’t mention Candace Baker again, but she didn’t have to, sound carried in the house and they’d heard every word.

Shortly after the girls left, Dave took off without saying goodbye. It was at that point that Bea suddenly remembered the macabre one-year-anniversary of Harley’s death was that weekend. She’d lost her best friend when Harley died. Being with her family became more important than ever, deciding for her she was going to the shore without Dave. Getting Michael up and moving, Bea gave him Dave’s abandoned omelet for breakfast while she packed up their bag. “Let’s go buddy! We’re going down the shore!”

Chapter 35 Kathy loaded their bags into the car and then drove to pre-register Laura for T-ball. “Are you ready to go to Devon’s house?” Kathy asked, looking in the review mirror. Laura nodded quickly, excited. “Are we going to see my Grandmother Betsy?” Kathy chuckled, Laura had referred to her mother as Grandmother before she could say mommy. “We are! She got there early today, before we were even up.” “I can’t wait!” she yelled, kicking her feet. “Hurry, Mommy!” Devon was waiting for them, standing at the door. “Can we go with Devon?” Laura asked, running to the kitchen. Jason walked out of the kitchen to greet Kathy. “You look nice,” he said, smiling. She did, too. Kathy’s looks always took Jason by surprise. She was almost as tall as he was, slender and youthful, her appearance completely natural with no make up and a simple hairstyle. No hairstyle, she’d say. Crunchy Granola would be the way he would have described her if he saw her on the street, he wondered if she shaved her underarms when she was dressed in jeans, that was how wholesome she appeared. Unless she was dressed in her dealer uniform, with a tight, crisp white dress shirt and a black bow tie. Mandatory red lipstick and black eyeliner, her pale blond hair was twisted into a bun at work. He liked that look too, imagining her in fishnet stockings. Now that she was teaching, he’d probably never see it again unless he asked and wasn’t sure how that would go over. She didn’t sound like she looked over the phone, her voice was raspy, almost deep, like someone who smoked cigarettes but swore she never smoked. He wondered when he would stop seeing her like this, but then he remembered that even after all the time they were together, he never stopped being surprised by Harley. They’d be in Walmart, she’d be off grocery shopping, he’d be in the auto supplies, and he’d run across her and

be shocked. Is that my wife? How do I rate? He thought that every time, telling her when it happened and she’d laugh him off. “Yeah, right,” she said, walking away. “You must want something.” “No, I mean it,” he’d persist. “I did a double take, just now. You caught my eye and then I realized you were my woman.” “Wow,” Harley said, pushing the cart toward the check out. “I’m really flattered. I feel the same way about you.” “Is that right?” he said, pleased. “Let’s get home so I can do it to you.” Laughing out loud, Harley play slugged him the belly. It was a moment in their marriage. Now, as Jason watched Kathy while she talked, taking Harley’s list from Bennie so she could pull items from the cupboard and put them into bags, he wondered if he’d have those feelings about her someday. He was committed to her, like someone in an arranged marriage would be. All the elements were in place; they just needed to get to know one another. The truth was, he was attracted to her now, and it was building. Thankful for it, he knew it had to do with getting to know her better, how kind and considerate she was, jumping right in to help. “Your wife is an amazing woman,” she said, always referring to Harley in the present tense. “Look!” She pointed to a numbered item on the list. “Cupcake liners. Are you kidding me? I forget them all the time and we have to dig the cupcakes out of the tin with a spoon.” Bennie burst out laughing. “Mom did it too, hence the item added to the list.” There wasn’t a second of hesitancy on Kathy’s part when it came to deferring to Harley’s methods. Jason thought if they ever did get married, it might change, but he doubted it. A knock on the front door interrupted his reverie. “Knock knock, can I come in?” It was Bea. “Dave isn’t going so it’s just me and Michael. Do Devon and Laura want to come with us?” Cheering yes, the girls came running. “I’ll go with Aunt Bea, Daddy,” Devon said. “Your daughters were already here to pick up Tina and Angie. Bennie has to work,” Jason said. “I might drive down after work tonight,” Bennie said.

Kathy put the booster seats into the back of Bea’s car while Bea filled her in about Dave. “I have to make a decision about what to do,” she whispered. “It’s taking a toll on all of us, him being in the house.” “You’ll make the right decision,” Kathy said, hugging her. “Maybe it’s good you’re coming down to the shore. It’ll give you time to sort things out without him hanging around.” She helped get the girls buckled in their seats. “We’ll be right behind you,” Jason called, almost done loading the car. After Bea pulled out of the driveway, Jason absently put his arm around Kathy’s shoulder. “I guess this means we’re going to be alone in the car,” he said. “A first since our date,” she said, smiling at him. “Our only date,” Jason said, guilt ridden. “I guess I had better step it up.” “I don’t care about that,” Kathy said passionately. “I just want to be with you and your girls. The time we’re together is so wonderful, I can’t even explain what it means to me.” Taken aback, it was the only time Kathy had ever expressed her feelings about him. It confirmed what he needed to know; Kathy was on the same path he was. “I thought about something a little while ago. About how this is like an arranged marriage,” he said. “Someone went to a lot of trouble to make sure we were right for each other and I think we can trust her. At least I can, after being with you all this time.” “She’s been gone a year today,” Kathy said. “I think she’d be so happy we’re together.” “I do, too,” Jason said, embracing her. It was the first full body embrace, and Jason memorized it. Kathy was completely different than Harley and he wondered with a grin if that was one of Harley’s criteria. He’d ask Bea. Where Harley was tiny and round, Kathy was tall and lean. Small busted, he could feel her against his chest. When he used to hug Harley, he’d let her know how strong she felt in his arms, her back muscular. Kathy felt frail, her thinness evident by the bones he felt, her ribs and knobby spine. He’d make a point of offering some of his mother’s cooking when they arrived at the shore. “Well, you ready? We can stop and get something to eat on the way down. There’s a

sandwich shop off the parkway that has awesome hoagies, better than Wawa.” “No one has better hoagies than Wawa,” she said, smiling. “Our first fight, arguing about hoagies.” “We’re not fighting,” he said. “Just sharing ideas.” “Oh, okay, is that what it’s called?” “Get in the car, please,” he teased. They bantered back and forth during the trip, laughing, becoming real companions, with an undercurrent of sexual tension that neither had noticed before, or maybe it was something new. “So, where do you see us in two years?” he asked. “Oh boy, that’s a question you’ll have to ask yourself. I’m the woman,” she said, smiling. “I don’t get it,” Jason said, frowning. “I mean a man should answer that question.” “I am dense. I got it. I haven’t allowed myself to think beyond next week up until this second. After Harley died, there was no future for me but seeing to it that my daughters survived. Then once I was sure they’d be okay, I could fade away. I even refused to talk to the guy who manages my 401K,” Jason smiled, but he was serious. “So you’ve been seriously depressed,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I guess so,” he answered. “I never thought of it that way.” “Rightly so, too. What your family has been through shouldn’t have happened to anyone. It’s just not fair.” “I’ve seen a lot worse,” he said. “Patient stuff?” “Yep, really depressing, tragic stuff. Harley and I had a charmed life until she got sick. But I’m starting to feel like a narcissist. Let’s talk about you. I don’t feel like I know anything about your past.” Kathy chuckled. “Is it really necessary?” Jason took his eyes off the road for a second to see if she was serious. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I guess it could be if Laura’s father is still in love with you.” “He’s not, trust me,” she said. “If you don’t want to talk about him…”

“It’s just that it’s such a bummer, I don’t want to ruin our time together.” “Does it make you uncomfortable? Because if it does, let’s change the subject.” “I can’t say it makes me uncomfortable,” she replied. “It’s not my favorite topic. I guess I need to tell you.” “You’ve been through the worst with me,” Jason said. “You can trust me.” “Maybe you shouldn’t be driving when I tell you. It’s not pretty.” A convenience store loomed ahead, the kind that sells blow-up rafts and beach chairs that survive a week, conveniently falling apart on the last day of vacation. Pulling into the parking lot, he parked and shut the engine off. “You have my full attention.” “It’s not that,” she said. He frowned, thinking how dramatic can it be? “I was raped. I got pregnant with Laura. The man is in jail now, for a long time. That’s the story. You can see why it’s not something I talk about.” Stunned, Jason was speechless. The idea that she lived through a pregnancy by a man who raped her, and then delivered a baby with Downs syndrome was unfathomable. “Did you know him?” “No. I left work at three in the morning and didn’t wait for the security guard to walk me to my car. It was a chance I took.” “How awful,” Jason said, knowing it was a pat response. “I have no words.” “I know,” she said, patting his hand. “What can you say? It’s just a thing that happened. But Laura is the silver lining.” Those words answered the question he wondered: Why didn’t she have an abortion? “She was?” “Oh yes,” Kathy replied smiling. “I mean, look at her. You see how special she is. Laura is always happy. We went through about a year when I was ready to pull my hair out, but then I heard other parents say their regular children had the same behavior. “I believe that abortion should be available for women. I did consider it right up until the last second. Then I wondered if this would be my only chance to have a baby. When I say I don’t date, I’m being truthful. I never have dated much. I never thought marriage was in my future. “When she was born, she was so cute, I just loved her immediately. My mother was

appalled. Betsy’s a tough one. Practical I guess you might say. When I discovered I was pregnant, she asked me if I was going to keep it. She didn’t try to pressure me or anything. ‘It’s going to be tough,’ she said. ‘The kid will be a reminder, every second of the day.’ “But my mother was wrong. I never think of the conception. I asked Harley if she thought of the conception of each girl and she said she didn’t. Harley was a great comfort to me. She validated me in so many ways.” “Harley knew?” “Oh yes. The minute I made the decision I was going to go through with her plan, I wanted her to have the truth.” “But why did you cancel it then? She used it to bring me down a notch. ‘Kathy isn’t attracted to you.’” Kathy laughed out loud. “She must have been trying to put you in your place about something else. I don’t think those were my exact words. Plus, how can you tell if you’re attracted to someone if you don’t know them?” “Exactly,” Jason agreed, thinking of his own revelation earlier in the day. “I’m learning so much about myself through this whole process. I think I was worried about the deceitfulness of thinking I could join up with Harley and try to manipulate you. Your suggestion that you would treat it like an arranged marriage was great! I wish Harley knew how easy you’ve been.” “Oh yeah, I’m easy,” he said, laughing. “I just felt uncomfortable because of Harley. I didn’t feel like I could be around too much with the motive of snatching her husband the second she died. I even told my mother, if it’s meant to be, it will be. And us running into each other at the casino was all it took for me. I knew I wanted to see you again, but not too soon. The summer was too soon. I think you knew that, too.” “We came close to not seeing each other again,” he said. “That would have been terrible.” He shuddered for effect, and they laughed again. It was effectively pushing the conversation about Laura’s father out of their minds. “Do you want lunch?” he glanced at his watch.

“I can wait until we get to your folk’s place. My mother made macaroni and cheese.” “I’ll wait, too,” he replied, starting the car. Maneuvering through the parking lot, when he got back on the parkway, Jason reached for her hand. “This is intense,” he said. “It sure is.” The words I love you were on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t say them, not sure the emotion of their conversation wasn’t responsible. He did love that she was so strong, that she loved her daughter, and that her mother’s macaroni and cheese was preferable to a deli sandwich. Because it was so early, he’d be sure to qualify what he loved about her and tell her exactly that. “I love what a good mother you are to Laura,” he said. And then he was surprised at how emotional it made him to think of Laura. “She’s easy to love,” Kathy said. “You’ll see.” “I want to get to know her,” he replied. “The girls love her.” “Yes, our daughters won’t be a problem. It was a worry Harley had. I wish I could tell her.” “Harley, the girls love each other,” Jason said out loud, glancing at Kathy with a smile. By the time they pulled up to the cottage, they were holding hands, laughing again, the darker confessions forgotten for the moment. It would have been like any other weekend at the shore if one incident could have been deleted. Lunch was over, and the sky darkened, a raindrop or two pinging the window over the kitchen sink. Joe stood looking out. “I was just going to suggest we put the boat in now that Jason is here, and look. Rain.” “There was no rain in the forecast,” Fran said. But he pointed at the window which looked toward the water, at the darkening sky and darker sea. The adults sat around the table, chatting. The grandchildren were piled onto the big couch, a Disney video playing while Bea stood with a cup of coffee, thinking, when she saw a car pull up. “Are we expecting anyone else?” she called out. The others got up and joined her, gaping out the window. A familiar female opened the car door, her presence instigating a bolus of heat which spread through Bea’s body, settling in the pit of her stomach. “Oh

no.” “Who is it?” She was a large woman, tall and broad shouldered, wearing a very short tight skirt and ankle boots. “Whoever she is, I love her cha cha boots,” Tina said. With a huge bust, her button up cardigan straining to pop open, she unfolded herself out of the car. Fran looked at Bea and repeated, “Who is it?” “Dave’s girlfriend,” she said. “Mom, he said they’re just friends,” Sally said, snickering. “Where’s Dave?” Candace Baker knocked on the door, and the women hung back to let Joe answer. “Can I help you?” he asked, trying not to stare at her bosom. “Is Bea Jones here? I gotta speak with her,” she said. The caricature was complete with chewing gum and a blond bouffant hair do. Joe opened the screen door for her, but she refused. “No, I just need to see Bea right away.” Thinking that maybe Dave had taken ill or had an accident, Bea came to her senses and rushed to the door. “Candace, what’s wrong?” She nodded to the car. “Come with me.” Bea’s stomach knots grew worse. “Oh God.” “Yes. I said the same thing.” She opened the back door and there was Dave, drunk and a mess.” “What happened?” “You tell me,” she replied, exasperated. “I have to work for a living and Saturday is my day to run errands. Dave here shows up on my doorstep in this condition, I might add. I tried to take him home but your neighbors said you were down here. I didn’t want to leave him there because I was afraid he might barf and choke to death.” “How’d you even know about this place?” Bea asked, looking at her intently. “I just know, okay? Get those strong men in there to haul this guy out of my car. I have to drive another two hours back home. I don’t appreciate it.” “Why didn’t you just let him stay at your place?” Bea asked. “Whatever you think of me, I’m not a home wrecker,” she said. “I’ve already told Dave to get a divorce or leave me alone.”

Bea hooted, slapping her knee. “Gosh, what a gal,” she said. “Thanks a hell of a lot.” “It’s not my fault your husband is unhappy,” Candace said. “It’s not mine, either. Trust me, if you stick around long enough, he’ll be blaming you for his misery soon, too.” That seemed to shut Candace up. “I’ll get my father-in-law to help.” Bea walked back to the house, thinking how sad it was that her children were privy to it. A parent wanted to protect their children and all they’d done for the past year is expose them to heartache, misery and death. Only the girls were interested in Candace’s car, the movie enough of a distraction for Michael. “Pop, can you help? Dave’s passed out,” she whispered. “Tell her to drive her car around back. You can bring him in through the laundry room door.” “I’ll wait there,” Jason said. Joe nodded and he walked out with Bea. “Sorry about this, dear,” he said. “It’s not your fault.” “He’s my son. Some of the blame has to be mine.” He asked Candace to move her car and they walked behind it, the exhaust visible in the rain. Jason was waiting at the door as he said. They got Dave out and smuggled him into the house, into the room he shared with Bea. She stood off and let the men deal with him. If she was a tougher woman, she’d leave for home. The weekend was ruined in her opinion. “I didn’t know what else to do.” It was Candace, standing in the doorway. Her hair was sparkling with rain mist, and Bea knew she should invite her in, but it was her fault for flirting with Dave in the first place. “You knew he was married. You came to my baby shower, for God’s sake. Why flirt with a man who is obviously in trouble? I don’t get it.” Candace’s defenses were clearly stirred up, and Bea didn’t want to listen to her, the temptation to push her off the porch powerful. “He’s a grown man.” “And you took advantage of him,” Bea said. “He isn’t happy at home.”

“So I hear,” Bea replied. “Thanks for bringing him down.” Bea couldn’t decipher Candace’s look for moment, and then suddenly she thought the woman expected to be invited in. Offered a cup of coffee or even a meal. But that wasn’t happening. “Can I give you gas money?” Bea asked. “That would be nice,” she answered. “I’ll be right back,” Bea said, closing the door. She wasn’t allowing her to get a foot in. They might never get rid of her. Coming back with two twenties; that had to be enough. She opened the door and handed the bills to Candace. “Thanks again,” Bea said, closing the door without giving her a chance to say anything else. From the bathroom window, she watched Candace get into her car and drive off. Now the dilemma was what to do. The weekend was ruined and they obviously couldn’t stay once Dave sobered up. She was sure Jason and Kathy would pick up the slack for her, take the kids home, allow the girls to spend the night with their cousins. A man who was so miserable that he’d get angry at his family for no reason and flee the house, get drunk and end up at another woman’s place was a tough man to deal with. Bea didn’t know what to do. A tap at the door interrupted her reverie. “Are you okay?” Kathy whispered. “No of course, you’re not okay.” “I know. What can you say? My husband is acting like an eighteen year old.” Bea walked into the hallway, the bathroom suddenly claustrophobic. “Will you and Jason help take care of my son? I think once he sobers up we have to get out of here and allow the rest of you to have a decent weekend. Or is it too late?” “It’s not too late,” Kathy said. “I just feel badly for you to have to go through this. Jason and the folks are worried for you, too. They feel responsible.” “Well they need to stop it. I don’t have the energy to try to make them feel better.” Dreading going out to the public rooms and having to face everyone, Bea headed to their bedroom. “Give my regards,” she said. “I’m going back to do damage control.” Kathy nodded and turned away, giving Bea the space she was longing for. It wasn’t such a big deal, but she felt like she was suffocating. The pressure from everything was suddenly too much. Harley would have had just the right words for her. Looking up at

the hallway ceiling, Bea mumbled a little prayer. What should I do, Harl? As clearly as if the words were spoken, the thought one foot in front of the other floated through her mind. “Always the simplest things,” Bea said. Smiling, she reached for the bedroom door knob and turned it. The smell of whiskey and sweat hit her in the face as she entered. The sounds of the door opening woke Dave up. He groaned, rolling over to his back. “I guess you can’t be that drunk,” she said. “What time is it?” “Almost four,” Bea said, looking at her watch. “Oh God, how did I get here?” “I’ll give you one guess,” Bea said. “Don’t waste it now, think hard.” “Smart ass,” he moaned. “Is she still here?” “No! Why would she be?” He struggled to sit up, holding his head. “Is everyone here?” “Everyone, including your children.” “Make me feel worse, why don’t you,” he hissed. “It is worse, Dave. Get up. I’ll drive home and you can decide what you want to do. We are not going to go on this way for one more minute. It looks to me like you aren’t committed to our marriage, so leave.” He was standing, holding on to his head. “Where are my shoes?” Bea looked around the floor, and then remembered that the men led him in with stocking feet. “Probably in the back of Candace Baker’s car.” Pointing to the door, he waved her away. “Go. Get your purse or whatever you need and let’s leave.” “Go out the way you came in, through the laundry room. I’ll say goodbye.” Leaving the way she’d instructed him, Dave had one goal and that was to get back to Candace’s house with his clothes before the day was over. Bea’s car was unlocked and he got into the passenger side. Going to Kathy who was emptying the dishwasher, Bea had to breathe deeply to keep from crying. Her own predicament bad enough, seeing Kathy there doing Harley’s job made her sad. “We’re going home,” she whispered. “Are you sure you don’t mind

taking charge of my kids?” “Not at all. We’ll be fine. You have to take care of you,” she said. “I’ll let them know you had to go.” She pulled Bea to her chest and hugged her. “I’ll be praying for you.” Once the words were out her mouth, she couldn’t take them back. She would throw a few words on Bea’s behalf up to the sky. It was unclear if her prayers were heard. Maybe Harley would intervene. “Pray he just leaves me. I can’t take much more,” Bea said, struggling to stay in control.

Dave was looking out the opposite window when she got in the car. His apathy toward her was the worst thing that had happened to their marriage. Not looking at her, ignoring her unless it was in anger, she could see how some women would manage a relationship like that by picking fights, just to get the attention. “Put your seatbelt on, please,” she said, glancing at him. Doing as she asked, Dave was miserable. Somewhere along the line, he stopped loving Bea. Stopped even liking her. Candace fit him perfectly; she mirrored the feelings he had about himself; not to be taken seriously, a buffoon. Lowering his head suddenly, he burst into tears. “I’m sorry Bea. Please forgive me. But this time, I’ll leave like I should have done before Harley died. I knew then to be fair to everyone I should just go away.” “Your salary can’t support two households,” she said, unable to keep the derision out of her voice. “I’m moving in with Candace.” Wishing she had the courage to drive the car into a tree, it was taking every bit of self-control for Bea to stay calm. “I love Candace,” he said, reaching for Bea’s hand. “Don’t touch me,” she said, keeping her eyes on the road. “You have always been too good for me,” Dave said. “You know how everyone used to ask how did you get a looker like Bea?” “No Dave, I don’t remember that. You’re delusional.”

“Even my folks said it. You’re educated, beautiful, kind. Perfect. Then there’s me.” “So this is all because you’re feeling sorry for yourself,” she said. “That’s a great reason to wreck a family.” “I guess I am, a little. Candace is more my type. She didn’t go to college, so she can’t hang that over my head.” “When did I ever do that?” “Every time you tell our kids there’s no other option but college, I feel like you’re slinging shit at me.” “I see,” Bea said, her temper creeping up. “Would you rather they didn’t go?” “Of course not. But you must know what it does to me since I didn’t go.” “And why didn’t you? You’re smart and your parents wanted you to. You didn’t go because you wanted to party,” she said. “You were too lazy.” “Nice,” he said. “That was real nice.” “Let’s keep it real. So you’re moving out. When is this going to take place?” She was hoping he say immediately. “When we get home I’ll pack up my stuff.” “How are we going to manage the shore?” Of all the issues in their relationship, going to the shore was one she would fight for. “They’re my parents,” he said. “I bet they’d want me to come around no matter what. Ha! Me and Candace in the same room for a weekend,” Bea said. “Not pretty.” “How about opposing weekends?” It was the first rational thing he’d said, and although she wanted to tell him to drop dead, she’d try to be rational, too. “Okay, every other weekend, every other holiday. If we’re amicable, we can be there at the same time. I doubt I’ll be single for long so you can get used to me being with another man just like I’ll get used to you and Candace.” Reeling, Dave knew it was a possibility that she’d date, but thought Bea being Bea, she’d deny it to the death. In the past when they’d fought and he’d accused her of looking, she’d say I have no interest. I’ll never be with another man after this. “Wow, that’s an about face,” he said, shocked. “Yeah, hurts, doesn’t it? Get used to it. I’m so sick of you I wish we could get

Candace back here to take you home. I should have refused to let her drop you off.” “I don’t even know how she found the place,” he said, contrite. “Yeah, well guess what? She took you home first and the neighbors told her we were down the shore.” “She went to the neighbors?” he asked, mortified. “The neighbors.”

Making the rest of the trip in silence, the closer they got to home, the more excited Bea became to get him out of the house. It would be a purge; sad and difficult, but healing and freeing. Driving up the driveway, the neighborhood was out in force, an early spring day with enough chill in the air to warrant sweatshirts, but dry enough for yard clean-up. “I’ll pull into the garage,” she said, hoping the neighbors would leave them alone. “Good idea,” he said, slouching down in the seat. Nothing further to say to him, she went into the house and locked herself in her sewing room. Flicking the radio on to a station she loved but that Dave hated, the ethereal sounds echoed through the room, under the door, down the stairs to the kitchen where he paced, calling Candace to apologize and let her know she was going to have a roommate. “What’s that music?” she asked. “Its sounds like you’re getting a massage.” “My wife is torturing me,” he replied, looking up at the ceiling. “Let me hang up so I can pack my stuff and get out of here.” “Okay, see you soon.” After he hung up, Dave’s growling stomach was a reminder he hadn’t eaten all day. Bea almost always had something in there for him to eat, but since they were going to be away for the weekend, his choices were sparse. Forgetting his agenda, he called up the stairs. “Bea, what were you going to make for dinner tonight?” The lock to the sewing room door clicked and she stuck her head out. “You’re kidding, right?” “No I’m not. I’m starving.”

“You’re on your own now, Dave. Are you okay?” she asked, frowning. “Right,” he said, turning away. Cheese and crackers would have to do until he could get to Candace’s. Hopefully, she cooked. Within a half an hour, his car was full. Standing in the kitchen again, he looked around at the space, not seeing anything that he would miss, the clutter of papers and drawings stuck to the refrigerator with magnets an unpleasant reminder of how detached he’d become from his own children. He wouldn’t miss them at all; he didn’t even know if he loved them. Running back up the stairs, he’d check their shared bedroom one last time. There were boxes of important papers they would need to share for this tax year, but it could wait for another time. The bedroom didn’t mean anything to him as he checked his drawers again. Leaving the bedroom, he stood outside of her sewing room and listened, the drone of the New Age music still playing, but turned down. She must have gotten tired of it as well. Debating whether he should bother saying goodbye, Dave thought about seeing Bea again, that wounded puppy dog look she got with her eyebrows up and her eyes sad. He could do without, so he left quietly, tiptoeing down the carpeted stairs, letting himself out of the front door and carefully shutting it behind him. Her room faced the back of the house, so unless she left the safety of her sewing room and was watching from their former shared bedroom, he was leaving his home and his marriage without a witness.

Chapter 36 The first shore weekend of the season ended peacefully after a rocky start. It was similar to other successful weekends; fishing, games, lots of good food, and a bonfire, which the hardier, younger members of the family usually dominated. But on Saturday, the older people stayed by the fire until the wee hours of the morning, Joe the only man among the grandmothers. “I could get used to this,” he said early that evening, feeling mischievous. “Three to one.” Fran, a little worse for wear due to wine almost choked she laughed so hard. “You wouldn’t know what to do with all the attention,” she hollered. “And when we started making demands, you’d really hate it,” Betsy added. “Maybe,” Joe said. “Fran has me pretty spoiled. She’d be a tough act for another woman to follow.” “So no pleural marriage like they have on TV, is that what you’re sayin’?” Fran said. “You’re not going to bring in a sister-wife to help with the chores?” “Why should I? I’ve got all these women cooking for me,” he said. “That food was outta this world.” Everyone agreed it was wonderful, especially Maryanne’s bread pudding. While the family teased each other, Kathy and Jason slipped away for a moonlight walk on the beach. When they were out of sight, Jason took her hand. “We’ve only held hands in the car,” she remarked, looking down at their intertwined fingers. “I’m so tall, I wondered if we could hold hands and walk together.” “See,” he said, holding their hands up. “We fit perfectly.” “Ah. Is that how you see it?” Smiling, Kathy was happy to hear Jason comment something about them as a couple, however veiled it might be. “I do,” he answered. “I’m dark and you’re light. I have to watch every calorie I eat

while you eat like a horse and stay as thin as could be.” “You’ve got a nice build and I’ve never noticed you monitoring your food intake.” “That’s because you don’t see me during the week. I’m careful so these pig outs at my mother’s don’t take a toll.” “That was some feast,” she answered. Walking in silence for a way, Kathy looked over at Jason. “So what’s your take since Laura and I moved. Are you comfortable with what we’re doing? I’m just wondering because of the girls. They seem so well-adjusted, even Devon.” “You’ve made a huge impact on my family,” Jason said. “I don’t tell you often enough. Having you around has taken the edge off our misery. That’s not really the right word. We’re changed because she’s gone, but now we can talk about Harley and the good that she was and not every conversation ends in tears and regret. We can rejoice in who she was. You make that possible for us somehow. I’m sure many women don’t want to hear about the late wife. I noticed it’s you who brings her name up a lot of the time.” “I feel like she’s here with us, that’s probably why. Last week, Tina and I went to Salvation Army to browse after school. It was one of those trips where everything we saw reminded us of something Harley might have liked. ‘Your mother would want you to have this,’ I said a few times. Or ‘My mom wouldn’t approve,’ Tina said, holding up a slinky evening dress. She was with us for the whole trip. “I know I have to make my own memories with the girls, but this is a start. There might still be some bumps in the road, but I can handle it. I feel like we’re in the honeymoon period.” “You do? I hope it’s not so short lived as real honeymoons are,” he said, frowning. “You’ve definitely paid your dues,” Kathy said, squeezing his hand. “And so have you,” Jason replied.

The confession earlier that day about Laura’s conception shocked Jason. To have been violated, and then to have to live with the results everyday for the rest of her life, well it was unthinkable. Kathy tried to make him understand that from what she had learned

from other victims, it was something that never left ones memory anyway. At least by having Laura she yielded a wonderful outcome from so much pain. As they walked and chatted, Jason’s eyes scanned the sand; an old habit he’d picked up from Harley’s shell collecting days. “Keep your eyes peeled in case you see any treasure,” he said. “In the dark? How can you see anything?” “You can see white or metal objects in the moonlight. It has to reflect light. Findings from the beach have special meaning. Harley used to say you can plan your week around what you found buried in the sand the weekend before.” They turned around, heading back to the cottage when something shiny caught Jason’s eye. “Quick, grab it!” Kathy shouted. “The tide is going to take it away.” Pulling his shoes off, Jason ran after it in the cold surf, stamping on it with his foot, hoping it wasn’t something sharp. When the water retreated, he bent down to dig it up before the next wave arrived. It was a ring of wire, the kind one would find on a key ring. “Look. A ring,” he said, excited, the significance escaping Kathy altogether. Jason examined it and turning it left and right, he dropped to his knee. “Did you lose it?” Kathy asked, confused. Jason took her left hand, and kissed it. “Kathy Agin, would you marry me?” he said, sliding the ring of wire on her finger. It was far too big, but she would insist on wearing it until he bought a real one. Right hand flying to her face, she stifled a sob as he pulled her down to sit on his knee, and kissed her passionately. “Will you?” “Oh God, I didn’t answer, did I?” she cried. “Yes, of course.” Neither of them said anything about loving each other. It wasn’t important. Love would come in time, they’d already confirmed that. But they had both loved Harley and trusted her, and if she thought they were good enough for each other, it was good enough for them.

***

While Jason and Kathy made the commitment to each other, Bea and Dave had ostensibly ended their marriage. Candace Baker stood in the doorway, waiting for Dave to unpack his car. “I’ll pile everything in the garage so I don’t have to keep opening the door,” he said. “Whatever, Dave. Just bring it inside. Your room is right down here.” They weren’t sharing a bedroom. “I’m too old for that,” Candace had said. “You’re welcome to live with me for the rest of your life, but we’ll have separate rooms.” Relieved, not having the energy to put in the effort it would take into romancing Candace, Dave visibly exhaled. Candace noticed and started to laugh. “Jeez buddy, don’t be so relieved. Did you think I was going to ravish you?” “No, no,” Dave said, chuckling. “Nothing like that. I’m just exhausted, that’s all. I was ready to sweep you off your feet if I had to.” “You already did that five years ago,” she said. “No more sweeping necessary.” She put her arm out and he took it, walking along side her to see his new life.

***

While Kathy and Jason snuck away, Bea watched them leave with conflicting emotions. Staying behind with the grandparents and the children, feeling like the odd man out, she remembered times past where no one was left behind. If a moonlight stroll on the beach transpired, it was with an entourage. Times had changed. Happy she’d been there from the beginning with Harley searching for that perfect replacement wife and mother; she understood part of the feeling of abandonment was due both to Harley’s death and Dave’s leaving. Jason didn’t need her, but Harley had. Kathy might someday, but for now, she was building a relationship with Jason and his girls, Bea wrongly feeling her friendship was superfluous. Even when Dave slept next to her, Bea had suffered from loneliness, so the feeling wasn’t new. Leaning back in the chair, listening to her mother who was slightly drunk, and the other adults laughing at irreverent jokes, the girls whispering, probably observations of the older people by their laughter, and the little ones, Devon, Michael

and Laura, Bea knew all she had to do was choose a group and reach out to it, and she wouldn’t be alone. Wondering what Dave was doing, she couldn’t begin to imagine what was really happening at Candace Baker’s bungalow. Rather than engaging in wonton sex as she’d supposed, Dave had returned to the house after Bea left for the shore again, and took the gigantic television down off the wall in the basement rec room. No one ever used it but Dave anyway, so he didn’t feel the need to ask permission. It now hung on the wall of his little room, single bed, chest of drawers, half bath and dorm refrigerator; it was heaven on earth. He’d have to use the shower in the hall bathroom. After the TV installation, he wandered out to the living room dressed in his usual at home attire; sweatpants and long sleeved tee. Candace was sitting in a recliner with a reality show on. She looked up from the screen and grinned. “Don’t you look comfortable. Settled in?” “I am,” he said, sighing. “You’re really great to take me in, Candie. If I didn’t have to go to work I’d never leave that room.” “Don’t get too comfortable though,” she warned. “I do expect to be taken to the diner on Saturday night.” “The diner I can manage,” he said. “Let me know when it’s time to go.” Until Candie summoned him, Dave spent the rest of the evening in repose, watching baseball, napping and downing beers. He didn’t think of Bea or his children once.

Wedding Day

Chapter 37 In her wedding dress, Kathy stood on a wooden box in front of the mirror in Fran and Joe’s bedroom at the Sea Isle cottage. The grandmothers surrounded her, in awe. “You’re absolutely beautiful,” Maryanne said, putting a tissue to her eye. “It’s that body,” Fran said, shaking her head. “You’d look gorgeous in a sack.” “But the dress is special,” Betsy added. “Tina, you did an amazing job.” Waving, unable to speak, Tina knelt at Kathy’s feet with a mouth full of straight pins, jabbing them in at the hemline. “This décolleté; what do you think?” Kathy asked, looking down. “I mean if I had something up here to show off I wouldn’t question it.” “You can get away with it because you’re so flat,” Betsy said. “Great, Mom. Thanks so much for your truthful assessment.” “It’s nothing we can’t all see,” she replied. “You just said it yourself.” Taking the pins out of her mouth, Tina spoke up in defense of her soon-to-be stepmother. “She’s going to wear a push up bra. You’ll see. It’ll be beautiful.” Tina looked up at Kathy, her heart swelling with love. Since she’d heard the story that Harley had wanted Kathy for her stepmother, Tina did everything in her power to facilitate Jason’s relationship with her. “Can I come in?” Kathy turned around when she heard Bea’s voice. “Well, what do you think?” Kathy asked, Bea quickly becoming an indispensable best friend. Sincerely moved, Bea smiled, nodding. “All I can say is wow. You look amazing, Kathy.” “Do you like it?” Kathy asked, hesitant. “I mean the dress is beautiful, but is it too fancy for me?” “Now what on earth is that supposed to mean?” Fran said, everyone answering at

once, “You’ll make a beautiful bride.” “I feel like I’m built for blue-jeans.” “Yeah, we all are,” Maryanne said, laughing. “Trust me, you are gorgeous. Jason is going to flip out.” “He is!” Tina said, standing up. “Please take it off and I’ll start working on this hem. We only have six hours!” “Six hours and counting,” Bea said. “I am so nervous; I keep tripping over my own feet.” Fran grabbed her, hugging her. “Me too, sweetheart. I’m so happy and nervous and sick to my stomach.” They pulled Kathy into the huddle when she was close enough. “I may puke,” Kathy said. “You haven’t eaten breakfast,” Fran replied. “I’ll fix you oatmeal.” “Ugh, Granny, no offense but could I have bacon and eggs?” Kathy asked. “Sorry, Tina.” “No problem, I didn’t even hear it,” she said, running off with the dress, Betsy and Maryanne following to help. “Come and see what the girls did outside,” Bea said, taking Kathy by the hand. The living room empty, Megan and Angie were babysitting the three younger children in sand box while Sally and Bennie took charge of the decorations. White folding chairs lined up on either side of the path leading from the grassy parking area to the house, were embellished with white satin ribbon tied around bunches of purple loosestrife and Japanese iris, both of which grew wild along the marshy area behind the cottage. “Oh, it’s so beautiful! Thank you, girls, so much,” Kathy said, hugging them. “I could never have had anything like this without your help.” “It was all free,” Bennie said. “My grandmother found the ribbon at Salvation Army and we picked the flowers from the marsh.” “They’re really weeds,” Sally said. “Pop was thrilled we cut them before they went to seed.” “They spread by rhizomes and runners anyway, but don’t tell him,” Bea said, chuckling. “Where are the men?” Kathy asked, looking around. “I didn’t expect to see Jason

when we got here from my mother’s place this morning, but Joe and Dave weren’t here either.” “They’re out fishing, of course,” Bea answered. “I’m so happy everything worked out between you and Dave,” Kathy said. “Selfishly, I needed you both here. It would have been an awful summer without you.” “Yes, it seems like we need to stay together for more than just ourselves, and Dave discovered that on his own.” “Most marriages have struggles,” Kathy said. “It’s a fact of life. I’m just glad you’re together.” “I don’t see Candace Baker and I sitting next to each other at the picnic table,” Bea whispered. “Anyway, it’s time for us to get to the spa. I can’t wait. Massage, nails, hair and makeup in that order.” “I’ll look like I’m trying to play grown up but I’ll feel like a movie star,” Kathy said. Bea touched her arm. “Believe it or not, Harley used to say that.” “She did?” “Yep, I’d arrange spa days and that was always her response. Come on, let’s get going.” Wanting to cry, Bea didn’t give in. She wasn’t sad about the wedding at all, just missed her best friend and she wanted to keep today about Jason and Kathy and not about her own loss. A true friendship was developing between her and Kathy, who was such a nice person. No one would ever replace Harley, but Kathy could fill the space her absence left behind.

Calm seas and little wind made for a perfect fishing day. Not usually a man who succumbed to emotional issues, Joe was prompted to hug his sons periodically throughout the morning but refrained. Already weepy eyed at the sight of them preparing the boat before he was finished with his first cup of coffee, he’d struggle keeping his emotions in check. “Did Mom pack food?” Dave asked. “I’m starving.” “What do you think?” Joe replied, pointing to a large insulated bag and an even larger cooler. “Help yourself.”

Unzipping the bag, Dave discovered a large thermos of coffee and his mother’s homemade cinnamon bread, still hot, along with a tub of butter. “Mom’s the best,” he said. “Do you want some of this Jay?” “I’m too nervous to eat,” he said, pulling up on his line. “You should eat,” Dave said. “It’ll make you feel better.” “Ha! I wish it had that effect, trust me.” “Are you ready for another walk down the aisle?” Joe asked. “I’m ready,” Jason said without hesitation. “I wish it was over with though.”

Anxiety stemming from the proceedings, he’d hoped they could take the kids and elope. But his daughters nixed that idea. “Dad, Kathy’s never been married,” Bennie said. “Let her have the experience of walking down the aisle.” “I know. I just hate a big production,” he said, unable to keep the whine out of his voice. “There will only be the family, Uncle Andy, the aunts and a few old friends of Kathy’s. There’s no production. Aunt Bea kept it simple,” Bennie explained. And then getting closer to him, whispering, she added. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she was taking her directions for this thing directly from Mom.” Jason frowned, thinking about what she said. Feeling Harley’s presence growing in the past days, he’d started dreaming about her during the week, waking up in a sweat after realistic encounters with her that included shopping at Walmart, or meeting in the hallway at work for a quick kiss. Unlike the early dreams, he didn’t cry, awaking with a smile on his face now, at peace. Reaching for Bennie, he pulled her into a hug. “Thank you, honey. I’m sure it will be lovely. I’ll live.” “You’d better,” she said, laughing. “Don’t get cold feet.” “Nothing like that, I swear. This is the right thing to do.” Andy said the talk around the OR, probably instigated by Tiffany, was that Jason was marrying his babysitter. It stung that she could see through him because there was some truth to it. The girls absolutely loved Kathy, and it was clear by her actions that she loved them, too. His affection was growing for Laura, worrying about her, wanting to

look into setting aside some kind of trust for her. It just made sense for them to join their families. The reality of sharing his life with another woman struck with a force he’d underestimated. He’d already dealt with Kathy living in the house he’d built with Harley, soon sleeping in the bed they’d shared, that she died in, standing at the same stove, sitting in the same recliner. He’d painfully given away the surfaces she’d laid on and bought new items, chosen with Kathy’s input. “You don’t have to buy new,” Kathy insisted. “I loved Harley. I think you and I and the girls together was what she wanted. I love using her things.” But Jason knew it was part of the process of moving on for him. As much as he was devoted to the memory of his wife, there was going to be a time soon where she might become an interloper when the inevitable trials of marriage struck, and he wanted to avoid that. Now that the actual day had arrived, he was sure he was doing the right thing. After the wedding, they’d have a small reception at the cottage. Planning a night away with Kathy was both exciting and melancholy. They’d made the decision that waiting until their wedding night to be together might seem archaic, but because to their daughters it might make an important statement, it was worth it. Trying to decide what she might enjoy, going to Atlantic City was out of the question. Then Cape May came to mind. Kathy liked art and antiques and good food. It would be the perfect place to spend the night. He’d taken the next week off work and she was off for the summer. They’d wait to move her things over to Jason’s house until then so it would be a busy week, adding to his anxiety.

Finally, the hour was upon them. “I can’t believe it’s time,” Kathy said, stepping into the dress while Tina and Betsy held on to it. “Yep,” Betsy replied. “And it will continue to go faster the older you get.” Straightening up, Tina zipped her in. “Well, what do you think?” she asked, posing in front of the mirror again, turning this way and that. “It’s perfect,” Betsy said. “You’re gorgeous.”

“It really is beautiful on you,” Tina said, bouncing a little bit in excitement. “I’m so pleased. The dress was made for you.” “Literally,” Kathy said, bending to kiss her cheek. “Thank you so much. I know that doesn’t say enough.” “What about shoes?” Betsy asked. “Ballet slippers,” Kathy said. “I’m almost as tall as he is barefoot. I don’t want to tower.”

Puffs of white cloud skittled across an azure sky. The wind blowing through rigging and halyards of a sailboat sent mournful echoes across the yard, sounds Harley had loved. Andy and his wife tried to help sooth Jason’s anxiety, whispering to him, encouraging him, when Joe finally came out of the cottage. “Can I ask everyone to be seated?” he called out. “Jason and Dave, please come up to the porch. Attendants, please join us here. Guests, please be seated.” “Well, this is it,” Jason whispered. “I know it’s the right thing to do. I want to be with her. Harley would want it.” Until recently, Jason regarded Kathy as a perfect substitute mother, someone to help him raise his daughters. Plans for the wedding switched that perspective to one of companionship for him, of romance, of love, exposing guilt and regrets he had to deal with regarding his behavior during the last days of Harley’s life. “You’ll be fine,” Andy said. “She’s a great woman and you’re right; Harley would want you to be with her.” Hugging his best friend, Andy pushed Jason gently toward the cottage. The girls, Bea’s daughters included, were dressed in vintage dresses Maryanne had collected. They held bouquets of the same flowers adorning the chairs, the stems wrapped in white satin. As the guests found places to sit, Jason and Dave joined the group, the men kissing their daughters, Dave turning to Bea and kissing her, too, meaning it. Jason’s surprise for Kathy began; a guitarist, strumming an old Nat King Cole song, When I Fall in Love. It had special meaning for Kathy who’d claimed except for Laura, to never having been in love. The beautiful music brought tears to Jason’s eyes, both

sad and happy. Joe opened the door for Kathy who came onto the porch on her mother’s arm, the guest gasping at her beauty, the song bringing tears to her eyes, too. “Thank you, Jason,” she said as they reached for the other’s hand. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, holding her hands, all his concern melting away. “Tina made my dress,” she replied, proud. “The dress is beautiful, too,” he said, smiling. After a brief ceremony, a neighbor, a retired minister, pronounced Kathy and Jason husband and wife. But before they could escape the limelight, the minister spoke again. “There’s one more thing. Before you leave, Jason’s sister-in-law would like to say a few words.” Surprised, Jason and Kathy looked over at Bea, who stood up from her chair. Glancing at her family, at Dave smiling, her daughters standing behind Kathy, and at Harley’s family, emotion welled up in Bea’s heart. I love you, Harley, she whispered. “By now, you all know the story of how Kathy came into our lives. Before Harley left this earth, she sent me a letter for Kathy and Jason, with specific instructions to read it on their wedding day. Jason, Kathy, are you okay with this?” Looking into Kathy’s eyes, Jason could see how moved she was, afraid to speak for fear of breaking down. She nodded, squeezing his hands. The girls moved closer to their father, holding on to each other, the anticipation of hearing their mother’s words both exciting and scary. Jason sought their approval too, and they nodded in unison. “We’re okay with it,” he answered, trusting Harley that it would be something positive. “Okay, here goes,” Bea said, unfolding the white paper.

“Dear Jason and Kathy, I’ve written separate letters for you both, but this one is for Bea to read to you on your wedding day. It’s so exciting! I know you’re right for each other if you’ve made it this far. Just imagining where you are standing, I can see it in my mind’s eye. Hopefully, you’re in front of the cottage porch, a place I always said would be perfect for a wedding. I imagine Fran has it decorated with white flowers in old pots. Closing my eyes, I picture my daughters surrounding the beautiful bride, lovely in

their own right. I see my firstborn, Bennie, red hair her legacy from me framing her face like a halo. Angie, statuesque, those blue eyes she inherited from Jason shining. My Tina, oh, I wish I knew what you were wearing on this special day! I know it’s perfect. And little Devon, with patent leather Mary Jane’s. You’re all wonderful. Handsome Jason in blue jeans and a crisp white shirt and tie, I’m getting goosebumps thinking about how you must look.” The guests laughed, watching Jason squirm good-naturedly. Bea continued. “I can’t imagine what Kathy would choose to wear on her wedding day, but I wonder if it would be something vintage. Tina would help her select the perfect dress. Planning this in my head while I write, I feel like I’m there with you. I can see the chairs on Pop’s lawn adorned by flowers tied with white satin ribbon. Knowing Jason, there is some kind of music playing. Oh, the relief that my family will be loved and cared for by a grand woman like Kathy! Ask Bea; I was attracted to Kathy the moment we met. I prayed that she would want to join our family. Keeping her in my heart no matter what, I believe she is perfect for Jason. Love each other above all else. I love you both so much, I’m so sorry to have left too soon. But since it happened, Kathy is the perfect woman to take over, to help my family heal. Love her, support her, never allow anyone to speak a word against her. I’m asking my family to build a wall of protection around Kathy and Jason’s marriage. Until we meet again, Love, Harley

Subscribe to my email list at Suzannejenkins.net and download FREE: First Sight, the prequel to Pam of Babylon.

Also by Suzanne Jenkins #1 Pam of Babylon Long Island housewife Pam Smith is called to the hospital after her husband Jack suffers a heart attack on the train from Manhattan. It is the beginning of a journey of self-discovery and sadness, growth and regrets, as she realizes a wife and mother’s worst nightmare.

#2 Don’t You Forget About Me Jack’s wife and two lovers discover secrets and lies, and each other. The family begins to sift through the evidence of a life of deceit, putting together the pieces left behind by Jack.

#3 Dream Lover A gritty, realistic portrait of the aftermath of deceit, more pieces of the puzzle come together as the women each attempt to go on living in the wake of despair. Jack’s lovers scatter as Cindy tries to move forward, Blythe discovers a way to live without him, and other make their way to the beach for an audience with Pam.

#4 Prayers for the Dying Pam makes startling revelations about herself, while Sandra hopes for a future with exciting expectations. Marie is in a most unlikely place, with the happiest news in the bleakest circumstances. Ashton’s story of a lifetime love affair with Jack is finally told, with his heartache revealed.

#5 Family Dynamics Heartbreak and devastation move toward triumph in the fifth installation of the Pam of Babylon series. Pam is at last able to overcome the pain of Jack’s rejection, and her own role in perpetuating his deviance, when she meets Dan and falls in love. Her children move on with their lives in ways Pam would have never believed. Sandra fulfills her dreams with Tom, and a gift from Marie helps to complete their life together. Ashton and Ted build a beautiful life, and new discoveries make it richer than they thought possible, but with a twist. But don’t be deceived; what you hope for is not what you may get.

#6 The Tao of Pam Pam is at a crossroad which will take her to the next phase of her

life, if she chooses the right path. Brent and Lisa move on, dealing with their own life choices and Pam pays the cost. But does what she has to do to maintain a life of harmony.

#7 In Memoriam In Memoriam begins with the birth of a baby boy to Pam’s former boyfriend, Dan and daughter, Lisa as the journey of Pam of Babylon continues in this seventh volume. Still reeling from the death of her beloved son Brent, Pam endures life at the beach with remarkable strength. Sandra tries to balance several versions of her life while striving to be part of the Smith legacy. Lisa rises above circumstances that would destroy most, with determination. But don’t be too impressed; history does have a way of repeating itself.

#8 Soulmates Pam faces new challenges with glamour and poise, while Sandra doesn’t disappoint, and Lisa discovers new strengths. “Women’s fiction with a touch of noir.”

#9 Save the Date Pam and John plan their wedding, while love and healing grow around the couple. Lisa and Dan split up, and the day he leaves, she finds peace. Sandra and Dan make a commitment to each other, but for how long? John’s daughter, Violet makes major life changes and the grandmothers find adventure…and love. An old friend from Pam’s childhood returns with troublemaking in mind, but Karma is on Pam’s side, at last.

#10 I’ll Always Love You The women; Bernice, Nelda, Pam, Lisa, Violet, Cara and little Miranda rise up in power in this tale of triumph and love. But there are a few proverbial flies in the ointment. Can you guess whom?

#11 Beach Spirits Pam wrestles with spirits, living and dead as the past haunts her.

~ ~ ~

The Detroit Detective Stories. Nestled below the skyline of Detroit you’ll find Greektown, a few short blocks of colorful bliss, warm people and Greek food. In spite of growing up immersed in the safety of her family and their rich culture, Jill Zannos

doesn’t fit in. A Detroit homicide detective, she manages to keep one foot planted firmly in the traditions started by her grandparents, while the other navigates the most devastated neighborhoods in the city she can’t help but love. She is a no-nonsense workaholic with no girlfriends, an odd boyfriend who refuses to grow up, and an uncanny intuition, inherited from her mystic grandmother that acts as her secret weapon to crime-solving success. Her story winds around tales of her family and their secretladen history, while she investigates the most despicable murder of her career.

The Greeks of Beaubien Street is a modern tale of a family grounded in old world, sometimes archaic, tradition as they seek acceptance in American society. They could be any nationality, but they are Greek.

The Princess of Greektown Jill investigates the messiest crime of her career, while her family suffers a loss that changes the way life will be lived in Greektown.

Christmas in Greektown As Christmastime approaches, the family prepares for another get-together in Greektown. Relationships blossom and some end during the hardest time of the year. But as Jill and others discover, when one door closes, another opens, often with more wonderful opportunities.

A Greektown Wedding After Christmas was over, the family could finally focus on other things, like love! The jam-packed fourth volume of the Greektown Stories Saga, A Greektown Wedding takes you on the emotional roller coaster the other books introduced you to as the Zannos’s have another family dinner in Greektown, but this time with a wedding.

~ ~ ~

The Burn District Series

Burn District: The Short Story Prequel Laura and Mike Davis and their four children build an idyllic life with friends and family nearby in the beautiful Brandywine River Valley. Dreams and goals come to an abrupt end soon after Hurricane Sandy hits the

east coast. Discovered in wood soaked by seawater, a virus thought to have the potential to decimate the population becomes the excuse to relocate thousands of citizens from beach towns. Fire is the only known way to eradicate the virus. Rumors spread that napalm is used to burn without evacuating the people. A neighbor warns Laura and Mike that their town is next as the destruction moves inland. Is it a drastic way to halt the spread of disease, or is there another catalyst?

Burn District: 1 The family flees to Steve Hayward’s ranch in the desert at the Mexican Border, outside of Yuma, Arizona and build an encampment there. The government no longer exists. Lies, looting and lack of power are now the norm of life in the United States. Believers and Rumors coexist, as life appears to reach normalcy. But it will be short-lived.

Watch for Burn District: Book 2

~ ~ ~

Alice’s Summertime Adventure We meet Alice Bradshaw when she is at a crossroad. She’s just beaten cancer and is suddenly unsure of what her next move should be. Looking back on where she’s been and what the future may hold, she knows she needs to make a big change in her life. Then her car dies on the highway after an argument with her daughter. Dave, a stranger on a motorcycle, pulls alongside her and saves the day. He offers Alice a chance at adventure. She jumps on it, much to the dismay of her children. The adventure starts a chain of events that will have Alice and her children, as well as Dave, questioning every aspect of their lives. There will be a few casualties along the way, a lot of anger, life changes and a few shocking surprises. Alice’s Summertime Adventure is the story of an average American family as they struggle with dilemmas we all have, and making choices that aren’t for everyone.

Someone Like You Life gets in the way as upstate NY sisters, Marley and Abigail cling to each other and

their young children. But a babysitter introduces them both to Jay Malik, a medical student from India who becomes their lifeline to happiness, forgiveness and healing. “Another tear-jerker from Jenkins. Have the tissue ready.”

The Savant of Chelsea From Publisher’s Weekly April 2014 “This gripping novel from Jenkins delivers complex twists and turns from start to finish. Alexandra Donicka is a talented but unstable brain surgeon living in New York City. When her mother dies, Alexandra travels to New Orleans to face the tragedies and secrets of her youth. These include childhood abuse and the birth of a child, who was taken from Alexandra by her mother more than two decades ago. As Alexandra searches for her daughter, she must grapple with long-hidden emotions and discover her own humanity. Jenkins creates fully realized, believable characters and ably portrays mental illness in this dark tale that provides nonstop thrills and culminates in an explosive and unexpected finale.”

Gracefully, Like a Living Thing: The Sequel to The Savant of Chelsea So many possibilities existed at the explosive ending of The Savant of Chelsea. The author wanted readers to believe whatever they wanted. In this sequel, the doctor lives out her new life as a mother while the pendulum swings between lucidity and abject insanity.

Slow Dancing After midnight, a mysterious stranger appears at the edge of the woods and the peaceful life fifteen-year-old Ellen Fisher has with her beloved stepfather Frank is turned upside down. Small town gossip, jealousy and murder strive to tear them apart in a tale of secrets and unrequited love.

The Liberation of Ravenna Morton Ravenna Morton is an American Indian woman living a very old-fashioned life in a primitive cabin at the edge of the Kalamazoo River. Facing modern problems when her lifelong affair with a Greek artist is closely examined by their children after a child she gave up for adoption dies, The Liberation of Ravenna Morton captures the small-town

dynamic of a family’s private secrets being exposed to the world. A poignant look at the melding of two Americanized cultures observed under a microscope.

Look for the sequel, Oh Beautiful, coming soon.

Atlas of Women A Collection of Short Stories Women are the heart of the home. (Unless it’s a home with a man as the heart!) This volume is about women. The stories are a melding of truth from my own experiences and fiction created from both observation and fantasy.

Mademoiselle, a novella, started out as young adult genre. But as I wrote, Philipa grew up into a young woman who found her way after a short detour, choosing the more difficult path.

The Golden Boy ended up exactly as I imagined it would. A family deals with a loved one’s mental illness with love and support, but when there is no longer any hope for normalcy, prayer and grace allow them to step aside.

Tribute to a Dead Friend is my tribute to every woman who’s lost a close friend but continues to be inspired and comforted by her spirit.

A Night Encounter is a short story about regrets and self-forgiveness. A daughter’s disrespect borne of sibling rivalry comes back to haunt her in a most unusual and gentle way. As in every work, there are elements of truth in the story, but it is pure fiction. I spent time in my garden last summer, convinced my late mother was there with me. It was a very therapeutic and comforting experience.

Vapors, was selected to appear in Willow Review 2013, is a fantasy in which a wife discovers a way to make her presence known after her husband reveals a painful secret.

Purchase details at: Suzannejenkins.net