Secrets of a Shy Socialite (17 page)

Jaci stood with her back to the door, staring down at Jena’s surgical bra in shock. “What happened?” It didn’t take her long to figure it out. “No,” she whispered. Her eyes went wide and filled with tears. “Not cancer.” She lifted her fingertips to her mouth. “Not you.”

“I’m fine,” Jena said, hoping if she said it enough—and avoided mirrors—she’d believe it.

“You don’t look fine. You look like a woman who is post op bilateral mastectomies. You look like you went and had a major surgery without telling me. Why?”

Jena looked down. “You said you didn’t want to know the outcome of my genetic testing. I couldn’t very well share my decision to undergo prophylactic bilateral mastectomies without explaining why.”

“Prophylactic.” Jaci clutched her fist to her heart. “Thank, God.” She let out a breath. “I may not have wanted to know the results of your testing, but I most certainly would have wanted to know your plans included surgery. I most certainly would have wanted to be there for you, to listen and research and help you formulate the pros and cons list I’m sure you have stashed somewhere.”

In her research folder. Jena smiled.

“When did you have it?”

“Yesterday morning.”

“Yesterday morning?” Jaci screeched. “What are you doing home from the hospital? With twins? And Justin? Of all the—”

“I made a terrible mistake.” Although she’d thought she was all cried out, new tears flooded Jena’s eyes. She dropped her forehead into her palm. “I wanted to be home, but I feel awful, I can’t manage my drains by myself and I don’t want Justin to see me like this.”

“Oh, Jen.” Jaci leaned down to give her a gentle hug. It felt so good.

“I think I rushed the surgery.” She sucked in a stuttery breath. “Maybe if I’d waited.” She looked up at her sister. “Maybe this would be easier if I’d given Justin and me more time together to feel more comfortable around each other.” Too late now.

“But Aunt Lynnie.” Jaci understood.

“I can see daddy’s face when he looked at mom after her surgery. Can’t bear to see that look from Justin.” Now she ached on the inside, too. “Re...re...repulsed by me.”

“Jena Piermont you snap out of it, right now.” Jaci knelt on the floor by Jena’s feet and put her hand on Jena’s knee. “Daddy was an inconsiderate jerk. Justin is a good man.”

“I love him,” Jena cried.

“I know.” Jaci rubbed her back.

“He won’t ever love me now.” She hated that she sounded so pitiful.

“I think you’re mistaken,” Jaci said. “He’s pretty upset out there. If he’s not crazy in love with you already, it’s only a matter of time. I’m sure of it. Who wouldn’t love you? You’re perfect.”

Not even close.

Jena reached up to touch her breasts. “I’m half the size I was.” She pressed. “And I can’t feel anything.” But an overwhelming, smothering despair. “They feel dead.”

“It’s so early in your recovery. Maybe some of the sensation will come back.”

And maybe her retained nipples would survive and not fall off. And maybe the scarring would be minimal. And maybe in a few weeks, fully clothed, no one would be able to tell the difference. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

“Come on,” Jaci said. “Let me take a look at you.” And just like that, she shifted into nursing mode, assessing Jena’s dressings and drains.

“Thank you, for coming,” Jena said, feeling calmer. “I hate to be a bother.”

“Stop it,” Jaci snapped. “You’re my sister. My twin. I love you.” Jaci turned to face her, so serious. “You have to know how much I love you. You hurt, I hurt. You’re happy, I’m happy. I’d do anything for you, Jena. Anything.”

“You’re going to make me cry again,” Jena said.

Jaci waved her off. “Then forget I mentioned it.”

Not likely.

Jaci washed her hands in the sink.

“Jaci?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you, too. And I’d do anything for you, too.”

Jaci smiled. “You know, to be quite honest, while I’m sorry for the circumstances, it feels damn good to have
you
need me for a change.”

Someone knocked on the door. “Everything okay in there?” Justin asked.

Jena tried to hunch so he wouldn’t see her. Something pulled. Ow. “Lock the door.”

Jaci did. “Jena’s okay. We’ll be out in a few minutes.”

After Jaci emptied her drains, helped her wash up and change into a different cotton zip up running suit, Jena felt much better.

Jena woke up the next morning, after a relatively good night’s sleep—thank you pain medicine—still in the recliner, where she felt the most comfortable. Justin, who’d refused to sleep in the bed because he didn’t trust her to wake him if she needed him, was asleep on the couch. Jena got up from the chair, basically feeling achy all over, and shuffled to the bathroom.

She closed the door, noticed it no longer had a lock, and opened it. “Really?” she yelled. “That’s what you did after I fell asleep?”

“I figured if you could lock yourself in there then the girls can,” Justin said from the couch. “I’m being a proactive parent.”

“Ha ha.” She closed the door.

“Do you need me to empty your drains?” Justin asked from the other side of the door.

Too close. “Don’t come in.”

“I promise to honor your privacy. But if there’s an emergency I need to get in there. Now do you need me to empty your drains?”

“No.” Jena finished up and washed her hands. “Jaci said she’d stop by before work.”

“The nurse said I did a good job of it.”

She’d only allowed that because they wouldn’t discharge her otherwise, and the minutes she’d spent sitting there while he practiced, trying to make sure he couldn’t see under the front of her gown, had been the worst of her entire hospital stay.

“I’d prefer Jaci.”

“If that’s what you want.”

He sounded disappointed. Jena opened the door. “I appreciate you wanting to do it, really. I just feel more comfortable with Jaci.”

“A nice big good morning kiss would go a long way toward soothing my hurt feelings.” He leaned in and puckered his lips.

Had she really hurt his feelings? No. He had to be teasing. She kissed him.

“Now what would you like for breakfast?”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Justin insisted.

So sweet. “How about rye toast and tea?”

“Coming right up.”

Over the next few days they fell into a nice routine. Each day Jena felt a bit better and tried to do a bit more, always under Justin’s watchful eye. He was absolutely wonderful. But other than an occasional peck of a kiss, she kept her distance, feeling unappealing and unfeminine and not even remotely ready for intimacy of any kind.

* * *

One night in the recliner extended into six. And even though Jena’s pain decreased and her activity increased, she insisted on sleeping in the recliner chair, claiming it was more comfortable for her than the bed. But with each passing day Justin felt more certain it was her way of putting physical distance between them.

When they sat on the couch to watch television he tried to put his arm around her, she asked him not to. Too sore she’d said. Okay. But he tried to hold her hand and she pulled it away. Tried to flirt and couldn’t get one blush out of her.

And those sponge baths the nurse mentioned prior to discharge? The ones he’d gotten kind of excited about? Never happened. Because Jena would only let Jaci in the bathroom with her.

Selfish Justin regretted calling Jaci. But desperately-trying-to-do-the-right-thing fiancé and father Justin accepted that Jena preferred having her sister readily available, whether he liked it or not.

One week after her surgery, Justin drove Jena to the doctor’s office to have two of the drains removed, hoping to finally get a look at her chest. Only to spend the duration of the visit, at Jena’s request, in the waiting room. Jena had denied him entry into the examination room.

Justin felt her growing more distant, more skittish. Smiling less. Preoccupied. And he knew in his heart if he didn’t do something, he would lose her.

Thinking maybe the first step to getting back the old Jena was to get her out of the condo; he took the opportunity of her doctor’s appointment to take her to lunch.

“Why are you stopping here?” she asked as he pulled into a parking lot.

“I’m taking you out to lunch. You’ve been cooped up in the condo for too long.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Well I am.”

“I don’t want to go.” She adjusted her shirt. “I still have two drains. Everyone will see.”

He turned to face her. “You are wearing a loose blouse with a bulky sweater. I promise you, the drains and any bandages you may or may not still have are not visible.”

He got out of the SUV and walked around to open her door. She looked up at him. Hesitant and unsure. He held out his hand. She placed her hand in his. Thank you. And he helped her out of the car. The first thing she did was tilt her beautiful face up to the sun. “That feels nice.”

“Grandma Abbie always used to say the fresh air will do you good.”

He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and led her into the small bistro like any other couple out for a lunch date. It felt good.

The waitress seated them along the wall.

“I feel like everyone is staring at my chest,” Jena shared, closing the sides of her sweater.

Justin looked around. “I don’t see anyone staring at your chest. Do you?”

Jena looked around. “I guess not.”

The waitress took their orders.

“I thought you weren’t hungry,” Justin teased.

“Well it would be impolite of me to sit here and watch you eat,” Jena said primly. Then they lapsed into a casual, comfortable conversation. Jena warmed up and he managed to coax a few smiles and one very distinct blush out of her.

And Justin felt hope.

But back in the condo her don’t-touch-me walls shot right back up.

That night after they put the girls to bed Jena said, “I’m going to take a shower.”

A shower sounded good to him. “Want some company?”

She reacted like he’d asked her to have kinky sex in front of a room full of men, but quickly regained her composure. “Uh, thank you. But no.”

Not one to give up easily he tried a different tack. “Do you need help?”

“No. No.” She hurried to the guest bathroom. The guest bathroom. Always the guest bathroom. “I’m good. I’ll be fine.”

He would have yelled for her to call if she needed anything, but the way things were going, he’d likely hear the thud of her unconscious body hitting the shower floor before she’d call for him. He threw the magazine he’d been reading, frustrated as hell, and he sat there, listening for any signs of distress, imagining rivulets of water flowing down her body, and foam—

Something fell—maybe a shampoo bottle—followed by a groan. He jumped up from the couch, ran to the bathroom, and thank you no more door lock, pushed inside. “Are you okay?”

“A little dizzy.” She sounded weak. Dazed.

He threw the shower curtain to the side.

“No!” she screamed. “Go away.” She hunched forward and covered her chest. But that meant she had to release her hold on the tub grip bar. She swayed.

Justin reached into the shower spray, turned off the water and scooped her up before she fell.

“Don’t look at me,” she cried, covering her chest.

Not before he’d seen the purple bruising and the strip of something tape-like over her incisions. And the string from a sweatshirt hood she had tied loosely around her neck with the long tubes of her drains threaded through diaper pins to keep the bulbed ends from dangling.

He sat on the toilet settling Jena on his lap.

“Please, don’t look at me,” she said again, Quiet. Defeated.

Justin had had enough. “You know what? It’s too late. I looked. And you want to know what I saw?”

“No,” she said miserably.

“I saw the breasts of a woman I care deeply for looking bruised and painful. And you want to know how it made me feel?”

She shook her head, looking down, almost curled into a ball.

“Tough. You were the one who refused to accept my ring unless I promised to talk to you and be honest with you. So here goes. It makes me feel mad as hell. At cancer. And helpless, that I can’t take away the pain or speed your healing. And damn determined.” Careful of her drains he draped his arms around hers and hugged her. “I feel you pushing me away and I won’t let it happen.” Tears pooled in his eyes. She was something special. A keeper. He felt it in his heart. “You can push all you want. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Jena said nothing.

“Before your surgery you told me you are more than a pair of breasts. Right on. I agree. What about you? Saying the words isn’t enough. You have to believe them.” He kissed her head. “You are so much more to me. I love you, Jena. And not solely for your beautiful body, but because of who you are. A smart, sweet, thoughtful, caring, courageous woman.”

“I don’t feel very courageous at the moment.” She lifted her head to look at him. “I love you, too,” she admitted. And he’d been right. He’d much rather hear the words come from her mouth than read them on a piece of paper—that now resided in the town dump with the other three letters she’d written. “You’ve taken such good care of me and the girls.”

“I got off to a rocky start.”

“But you didn’t give up.” He wouldn’t let himself. “And with everything that went on that night, I think I’d have needed to call in reinforcements, too.”

“Thank you.” He kissed her forehead.

“You’re all wet,” Jena said.

“That’s what happens when I brave a shower to rescue my fiancée.”

“My hero.” She smiled. And Justin couldn’t help but smile, too.

“You smell like baby shampoo.”

“That’s what the doctor said to use until I’m all healed.”

Which is probably why she always used the guest bathroom. Not because she was avoiding their bedroom, but because they kept the baby shampoo in the guest bathroom where she bathed the twins. And maybe so he’d be close by in case she needed him. “It’s starting to harden in your hair.”

“I guess I’d better finish my shower.”

“About that,” he said. “Should I be calling the doctor to tell him you almost passed out?”