The Milestone Tapes (16 page)

“If you’re in heaven,” Mia hiccupped between sobs, “I won’t see you anymore.”

“No baby, but I’ll be with you always even if you can’t see me,” Jenna lulled.

“It’s not the same!” Mia wailed, screaming wildly against Jenna’s chest. Wounded, she was so wounded, beyond comfort, beyond repair.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Jenna begged, wishing for the right words, for the motherly insight it would take to calm her baby down, appease her, heal her heart. But she was lost.

So they sat, the sun settling over the sea, slipping lower behind the horizon leisurely. The evening mist rolled in, light, like the shaking of a snow-globe, swirling, disappearing before it reached the ground. Jenna and Mia sat, locked together in misery and pain and panic. Mia sobbing silently, inexhaustible, in the temporary safe haven of her mother’s arm, Jenna rocking her, as she did when Mia was still her tiny baby, innocent and unbroken, soothing her.

The crunching sound of leaves broke through the clearing before Ginny did. She appeared, a thick quilt in her arms, looking forlorn and broken.

“Jenna?” she whispered against the wind, holding out the blanket, an offering. “I don’t mean to interrupt but figured you girls might be cold.”

Jenna looked towards her home, visible through a break in the trees. Lit and warm, she could see her nephews splayed across the couch, the flashing of bright colors blasting across their faces. Mia should be in there with them, being silly and childish, not out here in the middle of the woods. She needed to take Mia home. She needed to bring Mia back to the enclosed safety of her world.

“Mia, baby, we need to go home now. It’s getting dark and you’re going to catch a cold.” She patted slow circles on the plane of Mia’s shuddering back; the tears had calmed some time ago, and she just remained huddled, throbbing in Jenna’s arms.

Jenna wondered idly what time it was; she had lost track a while ago. The sun had set long ago and the sounds of woodland nightlife boomed in her ears now, even the ocean below roared with high tide, lapping shyly at the shore. Surely it was late, they’d been out here for hours, yet it seemed like only moments.

Snuggling Mia closer to her chest, she carefully pushed herself from the ground, cradling her child closer. Her legs demurred angrily, sore and asleep as she hefted Mia upwards, stumbling over the uneven ground. Ginny stepped forward, shrugging the quilt over her shoulders, opening her arms, silently offering to take Mia from Jenna, to carry her home. Jenna shook her head no, clutching her baby closer. She wasn’t ready to hand Mia over just yet.

Ginny nodded her understanding and draped the quilt across Jenna’s hunched shoulders. Walking slowly beside her, keeping her hand anchored to the small of Jenna’s back.

As they reached the manicured land of the side yard, Jenna saw Gabe, resting on the white rocking chair on the wide front porch, waiting.

“He’s been out here the whole while you were gone,” Ginny murmured softly in Jenna’s ear.

Jenna’s heart dilated. Everything flooded her at once. The first time they had taken the turn off the 101 to find this hidden, massive lot of land that would be theirs. The first time they pulled into the driveway when the house was newly finished, staring up at the beautiful, low, long home they had dreamt of. The first time they took these steps, a baby, pink and fresh swaddled in Jenna’s arms, changing everything about them.

Gabe opened the door to the house for Jenna as she approached, gradually climbing the steps and crossing the wide porch, the smell of roasted tomatoes, steamed peppers, spicy meat and warm bread wafted forward, greeting her.

Sophia popped her head out of the kitchen, looking Jenna over, appraising the situation and condition of her sister. The boys scrambled off the couches, lining up, biggest to smallest, staring at her with sad, curious eyes.

Ginny closed her arm around Jenna, encouraging her forward.

Mia lifted her head from the crook of Jenna’s neck, blinking her eyes against the warm light.

“Momma, I’m hungry.” Mia pushed free of her arms for the first time in hours. Jenna set her carefully to the ground; her arms felt dead, heavy as stones, missing something.

“I made some chili, honey, I can get you a bowl?” Sophia spoke, an encouraging smile stretched across her face but failed to reach her eyes.

“I don’t want chili,” Mia retorted quickly.

“Pizza? I could order us all pizza?” Sophia stretched.

“Maybe.” Mia shrugged, shuffling her feet.

“Okay, well, I’ll order a pizza ... and if that’s not what you want, I can make you a grilled cheese or whatever else.” Sophia walked over to the take out menu box, flipping through the neatly organized pamphlets to find a place that would deliver.

“Momma, can I watch some TV?” Mia looked up at Jenna.

“Of course, honey. Sure you can,” Jenna stroked the top of Mia’s head affectionately.

“Come on Mia, we can watch something you want,” Caleb offered from the family room, shoving Harlen with his shoulder, Harlen catching the unsubtle cue and nodding eagerly in agreement.

“Jenna, baby, let’s get you in a bath.” Gabe walked up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder, pushing her gently towards the master bedroom.

“That actually sounds really nice,” Jenna consented, remembering the leadened limps and ache she’d been fighting.

Gabe guided Jenna towards the room, clicking the door shut behind them. He masterfully opened drawers and pulled out fresh clothes for Jenna, who stood uselessly inside the room. She felt as though she had floated away from her body, nothing holding her in place any more.

Gabe placed a neat pile of soft pajamas on the foot of bed and walked into the bathroom. The sudden sound of rushing water filled the room as the tub turned on, and she heard the sound of bath salts pinging the fine porcelain of the footed tub, a minty sweet smell exploded, filling her senses.

She followed it, encouraged by the promise of warmth and rest. Steam billowed like land-
bound clouds across the marble and stone. Jenna swiftly wiped her hand across one, clearing it. Looking at herself, she gasped in horror.

The woman staring back was not her, but it was, totally unrecognizable, like a causality of bad circumstances, dirty and displaced. Her eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot, her short, glassy black hair greasy and damp, sticking awkwardly to face, her skin sallow and bleached of color, leaves and muck clinging to faded sweats that hung loosely off her frame. Jenna was scared of what she saw; this woman looked like death.

Jenna ripped the clothes away from her skin, leaving them in a muddy pile on the stone floor. She hurried into the tub, not bothering to assess any damage the clothes were hiding. The stifling heat of water instantly burned her cold skin; it felt like a million needles were plunging into her ruthlessly, but it felt good, healing. She shoved her head under the water, fumbling blindly for the bottle of salon shampoo she kept on the ledge of the window. She scrubbed her hair and body then she used the fancy lavender soap from France to wash and rewash her face. She raked a razor beneath her arms and along her legs. She ran the expensive sea sponge she’d once splurged on over the length of her body, trying to rub some color into her skin. The tub was filled with an array of pricey beauty products rinsed away, leaving only a thin layer of oil-
slick bubbles floating over the surface in their wake and the water below murky brown.

Gabe sat patiently on the teak stool beside the tub, a thick, clean white towel waiting on his lap. Jenna pulled the plug, savoring the glugging, slurping sound as her proof of her bad day wasted itself down the drain. Gabe stood, opening the towel wide. She allowed herself to be swaddled into the plush material. He toweled off her hair, her arms, her back and front then ran it over the length of legs. He picked up a brush, smoothing it through her short hair carefully, slicking it neatly down. He guided Jenna to the chair and helped her sit down. He opened her bottle of lotion and kneaded the silky white balm into her skin: her arms, legs, neck, face, shoulders, feet and hands. It smelt like rain and gardenia with notes of coconut. He wrapped her in a freshly laundered silk robe, guiding her gently into the bedroom.

Jenna collapsed on the bed. Her eyes slid shut effortlessly, the pillow soaking through under her damp hair. Gabe silently lowered the blinds, closing their room off to the world, snapped off the bedside lights, and then he removed his jeans and tattered t-shirt, sliding into place above the covers, beside her. He moved his fingers carefully through her hair, along her arms, across her face. Finally worming his way beside her, snuggling close, taking her in his arms.

“I love you Jenna,” he murmured as they fell off into sleep.

The morning was unnaturally bright, snaking through the plantation blinds of the bedroom, bathing everything in a sweet balm of light. A richly scented mug of strong coffee sat beside the bed, coaxing Jenna from her deep sleep.

Gabe was lounging beside her, the television turned low as the morning news paraded across the screen.

“What time is it?” Jenna yawned, struggling to sit up against the fluffy down pillows.

“Early, only like eight.” Gabe leaned down and kissed the top of Jenna’s head.

“I slept for a long time.” Jenna yawned and stretched, noting a strong ache in her shoulder, which she automatically rubbed.

“Yes, you did. But you deserved it, you need it.” Gabe, turned the volume on the television down even lower.

“Is Mia awake?” Jenna asked, shifting slowly to climb out of bed. Gabe reached out in the same moment, holding her in place.

“Up and gone. Sophia took everyone to the rain forest. They’ll be home later this evening.” It explained the reason for the lazy morning. No child to tend to meant lounging in bed was a viable option.

“Oh.” Jenna wouldn’t have sent Mia off today. She wanted to be with her baby and felt slightly put out that the decision had been made by everyone but her. She felt her tentative control slipping away.

“It’s fine, Jenna,” Gabe consoled, knowing the look that flashed across Jenna’s face.

“I know it’s fine. She’s with her aunt,” Jenna snapped. The words sounded harsher than she intended them too.

“And with Ginny,” Gabe added, sipping his own cup of steaming coffee

“I just wanted to spend time with her, that’s all,” Jenna softened, reaching for her mug.

“I think this will be good for Mia,” Gabe concluded. “Yesterday was hard on her, but she seemed pretty excited to go out today.” He shrugged.

“What’s done is done,” Jenna conceded, running her hand through her hair, which spiked out in unruly protest.

“I figured it would be okay. You and I have some things to go over this morning.” And there it was, Gabe living up to his promises, taking care of the nuts and bolts of things.

“Yes, there is that,” Jenna sighed deeply, not wanting to go there.

“I heard what you said yesterday, Jenna,” Gabe began gradually. “I can see where you’re coming from, and I want you to do what’s best for you now, whatever that means to you. If you want to take an apartment in Seattle so you can be closer to Dr. Vaughn, I’m okay with that. We can enroll Mia in school there and I can commute. We could make it work, but it’s your decision.”

Jenna looked at Gabe thoughtfully. The restful night’s sleep and the light of morning had brought perspective to both of them it seemed. He’d always been selfless, able to go outside of what he wanted and be what she needed. It was only one of the many reasons she loved him.

“I appreciate that. But, we have to be reasonable, like you said. Mia’s whole life is here. Ginny is here, her home, her friends, her school.” Jenna raised her hands up, making a wide circle with them, encompassing everything as though it were a single unit. “If we were to take her away to Seattle, even for a little while, it would only upset her more. She needs to be surrounded with things that are comfortable and familiar and stable.”

Jenna knew that if it were just her and Gabe, they’d go in an instant. She’d say the word and bags would be packed, arrangements made. But, if it was just she and Gabe, they’d probably already be there, still living in Seattle, and this whole part of her life wouldn’t exist at all. But it wasn’t just them; they had a third little person to consider.

“I agree,” Gabe nodded “It would be harder in the long run. But, I want you to feel comfortable. I want you to be getting the best care. It would be harder, but we’ll go.”

“I know that. But there isn’t anything special in Seattle they can offer me,” Jenna reprised quietly. The awareness had come to her, but she couldn’t recall when, that no matter where she was or who was looking after her, she was winding down now. She had done the right things all along, been the diligent warrior. Now it was no longer the cancer she was battling against, but the causalities of it. She would protect Gabe and Mia from any further disruption while she still could.

“Tell me about the tapes,” Gabe turned off the television, looking into Jenna’s eyes.

“Do you remember when I went to that support group?” Jenna raised the mug to her lips, taking a small sip before continuing. “There was this woman, who was in her final stages. She was a mom, she had a bunch of kids and she was trying to figure out how to communicate her love to them.”

Gabe squinted his eyes, listening closely.