Just Destiny (40 page)

* * *

To help pass time while she waited for the verdict to come in, Jenny threw herself into work, tutoring Grammy J, and volunteering at the clinic. Two mornings a week she read to children waiting to see the doctor and then worked on last-minute tweaks of the children’s corner remodel. The other days, she researched her article on teenager sleep deprivation as associated with electronics in their lives.

Jenny took Judith to lunch to thank her for her help during the trial and to see if she’d made a decision about telling the kids about the Huntington’s Disease. Judith, though still angry, was calmer. She and Dave elected to tell Ted and Alex that they may have inherited Huntington’s after Alex graduated college or before either of them married or got pregnant—at least that was the plan, barring any unforeseen pregnancies.

Once the kids were told, they’d have to decide for themselves if they wanted to be tested. Either way, Judith and Dave felt it imperative that Ted and Alex have a college degree, and telling them while they were in school would be a formidable and unfair distraction. Jenny thought it was probably the best plan given the circumstances and offered Judith an understanding ear and shoulder to lean on anytime she needed it.

Sadly, Jenny’s fight with George suddenly felt petty in light of what Ted and Alex would soon face. She’d gladly give up the chance to have Gabe’s baby if it meant Ted and Alex never had to worry about Huntington’s; unfortunately she couldn’t make that deal, their destiny was already sealed.

Wednesday morning, Jenny wore a loose cotton dress and sandals. She pulled her hair back in a ponytail and applied a little lip-gloss. In the kitchen, she snatched her cell from the countertop. Pausing, she hefted it in her hand. Her thumb hovered over the screen. Should she call him? Would he answer?

She tossed the phone in her purse. Jenny opened the garage door to let Ritz out and looked at Steve’s silent house. He was probably already at work. Sighing, she loaded up the Jeep with Danishes, muffins, and fresh fruit from Costco and headed downtown.

For their ten thousand dollars, Patricia Corbridge suggested that it might be nice to have a little unveiling ceremony. Gianna joked that for a fifty thousand dollar donation, she’d name her next child after Patricia; an appreciation ceremony was little enough to ask. So before opening for business that morning, they’d planned a little pomp and circumstance.

Jenny slowly rolled down her driveway and paused one last time to look in her rearview mirror at Steve’s garage door and empty driveway. Steve had been conspicuously absent these past few weeks and she missed him terribly. Gosh, how much time did he need? She blew out a deep, sad breath before pulling out onto Lakeshore Drive and heading south.

Twenty-five minutes later, Jenny swung into the handicapped parking space in front of the clinic, and Max, the security guard, came out to help unload the Jeep before she moved her car to the parking lot. Inside, Gianna and the receptionist were spreading a tablecloth over a long table as Patricia Corbridge directed them by gesturing with the colorful flower centerpiece in her hands. A few strangers already milled about the room.

A van bearing the logo of the local TV station pulled to the curb. She smiled and walked through the clinic doors. Patricia Corbridge must have been a marketing magnate before marrying Daniel, ’cause she sure knew how to work an event.

Jenny scanned the freshly painted, pale yellow room, looking for any last minute details that might need attention. A huge tarp tacked to the ceiling hid the cozy rug and rocking chair in the new reading corner.

An assortment of children’s books and magazines lay neatly stacked in the new magazine rack on one wall, while a large square sheet of steel had been bolted to the other wall so children could play with the alphabet and assorted magnates there.

The tarp stretched around the corner, hiding the colorful fish exploring their new home in Patricia’s built-in fish tank. A local artist had donated her talents to paint vivid, adorable murals of children reading and playing. It started in the waiting room and continued along the hallway into a few exam rooms.

A TV combo DVD player now hung from the ceiling near the receptionist/sign-in counter, and Gianna had gotten several educational tapes about childcare and hygiene to run in it when they weren’t playing children’s DVDs. Twenty new, cushioned chairs lined the walls and divided the center of the large room, and a few live green plants composed the finishing touches.

People trickled in off the street, but Jenny’s quick scan of the room failed to locate Steve. He wasn’t coming. She pasted a smile on her face and looked for something to do.

Gianna showed up at her back and put an arm around her waist. “Looking for someone?”

Jenny shook her head. “Not really.”

“Too bad.” Gianna leaned in and raised an eyebrow. “Look who just walked in.”

Jenny’s head jerked toward the door and her heart lifted. Expecting to see Steve, her gaze skimmed right over Grammy J and Clarisse as she searched the few men. She looked back at the Johnsons. Oh, that’s whom Gianna was referring to. Gianna didn’t even know Steve.

Jenny smiled and moved forward, greeting them with big hugs. “Hi. How’re you guys?”

“We wanted to stop by and celebrate your big unveiling.”

“What about work?” She turned to Clarisse. “And school for you, young lady.”

“I told Ms. Kingsly I’d be an hour late today and she said it’d be all right,” Grammy J said.

Jenny put an arm around the elderly woman’s shoulder. “I’m glad to see you.”

Gianna moved close, murmuring, “Just about time to start. Patricia’s got the camera crew where she wants them.”

More people entered the room until it almost achieved its thirty-person capacity. Gianna stood in front of the tarp and raised her voice. “Good morning, everybody. My name is Gianna Donnatelli Scarfili, and I’d like to welcome you to the Donnatelli Clinic. Ten years ago, my father opened this clinic in memory of my mother, who suffered from multiple sclerosis.

“I won’t bore you with all the family history, but my father’s gone now, so my family and I run the clinic to preserve his vision of quality medical care for all. But we couldn’t do it without private donations and the generosity of our volunteer doctors and nurses. We’re here today to unveil the efforts of several other people who have selflessly and thoughtfully supported us.”

Gianna looked at Patricia and then Jenny, who blushed and studied her feet. “Dr. Gabe Harrison was one of our staff doctors who volunteered several times a week. As you might know, we lost Dr. Harrison this past year, but his wife, Jenny, picked up where Gabe left off.

“Jenny brought some friends in for treatment on a particularly chaotic day and took it upon herself to entertain the waiting children—and she’s been doing this nearly every week since.” Gianna made it sound as if the clinic was hard-up for patients and that Jenny had done them a huge favor.

“But not content to stop there, Jenny solicited the help of Patricia Corbridge and her husband’s law firm to fund this wonderful transformation we’re about to reveal. So our sincerest thanks go out to Jenny Harrison and Knight, Corbridge and Howe.”

Grinning broadly, Gianna raised her hands and clapped. Jenny looked at Patricia and joined in. It was Patricia who’d really wrung that huge donation from her husband; Jenny just started the ball rolling.

Beyond Patricia, just inside the front door, Jenny spied a tall light-haired guy. Steve. He stood at the back, behind two young mothers with children on their hips, clapping. His gaze locked on hers and he nodded in approval.

Jenny’s heart swelled; he’d come. Her attention was snagged by the gust of air generated by the fluttering, dropped sheet.

“At the firm’s suggestion, we had this plaque made up in honor of Dr. Harrison and thusly christen this children’s corner, ‘Harrison’s Hideaway.’” Smiling at Jenny, Gianna gestured to a carved and painted wooden sign hanging on the wall.

Jenny eyes widened in surprise and she couldn’t stop staring at the beautifully crafted sign. Gabe would’ve been embarrassed at the honor, but she appreciated it. Gabe would not be forgotten.

“This concludes our ceremony. Please, enjoy the refreshments while Mrs. Johnson, one of our newest volunteers, breaks in our new corner and reads to the children.”

A slow, proud smile broke across Jenny’s lips as Grammy J took Clarisse’s hand and moved to corner.

“Come along. Gather ’round,” she called to the children. Selecting a book from the rack, she eased into the rocking chair and settled in. Looking around the children gathered at her feet, she said, “We’re going to read a story about a bunch of silly dogs.”

Jenny moved forward as Grammy J began the simple Dr. Seuss book. Her delivery wasn’t quite smooth and she tended to supplement the text with questions for the children, but she was reading. Jenny caught her eye and gave her a thumbs up. It took guts to learn to read at her age. What a wonderful example she set for her grandkids—for all of them. Brave lady.

Jenny headed toward the door, anxious to brag about her friend to Steve, but he wasn’t there. She looked right, then left, and over her shoulder, but he wasn’t at the refreshments table either. He’d left. But at least he’d come. That had to count for something.

Jenny pushed aside her disappointment and, with one more glance at Grammy J, she went to get a glass of juice.

“That’s something, eh?” Gianna said. “They love her.”

“I’ll say. A few months ago, she couldn’t read a word.”

“I know. She told me.” Gianna nodded. “She came to us about a week ago and said she couldn’t read too well yet, but she wanted to do something to repay us for taking care of her and her grandchildren. She said the children like your reading so much that she thought maybe she could read to them once a week.” Gianna raised her shoulders. “How could I say no?”

“
Why
would you say no?”

“Exactly.”

“That’s my friend.” Jenny beamed and stood a little taller. “Isn’t she amazing?”

Jenny left the pharmacy and sat in her car. She slumped in her seat and stared at the ovulation kit. Surgery. Shots. In vitro. The words bounced around her brain like boomeranging lottery ping pong balls. She pressed her head back and sighed heavily. It all sounded so painful. And complicated.

Should she trust that the judge would rule in her favor and move ahead with the egg extraction or wait for his ruling? Would fresh collected eggs work better than those collected months ago? She hadn’t even thought to ask the doctor that.

Where was Gabe when she needed him? He could’ve helped her navigate these medical decisions, and she’d be confident that they’d have made the best choice. If Gabe had known about the Huntington’s, he would have insisted on IVF.

More likely he would have been adamantly opposed to having more children
, her little voice whispered.
With good reason
.

Living with Huntington’s would have been increasingly difficult for them. Jenny spent days on the Internet researching the disease: symptoms, progression, current treatments, and prognosis. The Internet was an endless supply of information, and bless those brave people who bared their souls and unselfishly shared their experiences on Huntington forums and message boards. They gave her the unvarnished truth about what Gabe would’ve faced, and a brutal glimpse into Alex and/or Ted’s potential future challenges.

Gabe would have needed to devote all his energy to exploring new treatment options, not caring for a baby. Given Gabe’s condition, she probably would have put off having children so she could take care of Gabe and enjoy the time they had left together.

Even with the worst-case scenario, Gabe would have had another ten to fifteen years and that would have made Jenny thirty-eight to forty-three. Old to start having kids. Jenny blew bangs out of her eyes. Obsessing over what might have been was a waste of time.

Gabe was gone and she was here, and she could have his
healthy
baby. She picked up the purple box and turned it over in her hands. She tapped it lightly against the steering wheel. Now, dare she risk proceeding before getting the judge’s ruling?

Who could she go to for advice? Not Steve. He’d been avoiding her since the trial ended. Jenny hated the distance between them but clung to the hope that he’d forgive her in time. Sooner than later would be better. She missed him terribly. She missed the way he made her laugh, missed his teasing, his company at meals or watching a movie. Steve was right: when he finally forgave her, things between them would be different. They were different. She was different. This time she’d cherish and respect his friendship and trust.

Deep down, Jenny sensed Steve cared for her more than just as a friend, but she wasn’t ready for that complication—he wasn’t either. He seemed recovered from the breakup, but he’d moped around for months. Steve lost not just Annie but her kids too. He’d had a double whammy just like when both Gabe and the baby died. She knew what that felt like.

Jenny hadn’t realized Annie’s divorce had been so recent or she’d have recognized Steve was her rebound guy. They never had a chance. She should be sad for the pain her friend went through but was selfishly glad they’d called the engagement off. She’d had Steve’s undivided attention for these difficult seven months.

Jenny turned on the hot car and rolled down the windows to catch the breeze. Hmm. She’d had Steve’s support, but what’d she given him? Cookies? Companionship? A sounding board and willing ear when he needed to discuss work? Not much. She’d used him.

First to jump start her career with the article for
People
, then for comfort when she’d spent the night with him to avoid facing her and Gabe’s empty house, and most recently she’d used his lawyer skills to get the baby she so desperately wanted. Jenny winced.
I am one selfish bitch
.

She tossed the ovulation kit into the passenger’s seat in disgust. Steve was a good man. He deserved better than her. But he refused to look for anyone better. Because of her? Jenny didn’t know how long he’d cared—didn’t want to know—but she had to do better with Steve.