Sweet Contradiction (13 page)

“I have a few errands to run this morning. I won’t be long,” she said with her back still to me. I furrowed my brow in thought. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I knew something was up, something even more than her mom’s death. I sighed and sat down at the kitchen table and flipped open the local newspaper.

“Okay, but I think we need to talk.” Jen took a breath and her mouth opened to deny it, but I cut her off to spare her from having to lie. “I’m your best friend, Jen. You can’t lie to me, so … don’t.” Jen’s mouth snapped shut and her cheeks pinkened lightly when her eyes met mine. Here jaw clenched tightly and she nodded. “We don’t have to talk about it now. But we will talk about it soon. You know I can make your life a living hell if you don’t, right?” I raised a brow in mock severity and she let out a bark of laughter. She raised both hands in the air and rolled her eyes.

“We will talk soon, then. Just not today,” she rasped out. I held her gaze a moment longer before turning back to the paper.

“Looks like the local boy scouts are having a car wash and bake sale today. You should stop by while you’re out and pick up some brownies,” I mentioned offhandedly. Jen laughed lightly as she picked her purse and keys up off of the table.

“I might just do that,” she answered. “I love you like a sister, Beth. I thank God every day for bringing you into my life.” She smiled at me, her face a mix of love and sadness.

“And I love you too. I hate to think where I’d be right now if it weren’t for you and your mom.” I choked up slightly and had to blink rapidly to keep my tears in check. “We’ll be the crazy, old ladies in town one day. Well, you’ll have all the kids and grandkids and I’ll be the eccentric and sinfully rich Auntie to your brood.” I laughed and Jen smiled sadly at me from the doorway. I waved at her and blew a kiss. “Whatever it is, we’ll talk when you’re ready,” I said softly. Jen nodded and blew a kiss back at me as she left the room.

“Don’t forget those brownies!” I yelled to her as the front door closed.

I eyed the overflowing dirty laundry basket with disgust. I needed clean clothes, though, so they had to be done. I doubt going out with Matt that night sans panties would be a good idea. I smiled wickedly to myself before grabbing the basket with a huff and heading out to the washer. Washing laundry wasn’t all that bad, but Jen’s mom didn’t own a dryer. She liked to hang clothes out on the line. She once told me she loved hanging laundry out to dry, that she enjoyed the fresh air, sunlight, and the time she had alone to think and pray. I shook my head and wondered for the hundredth time how she had kept her spirits so high with all the treatments and stuff she had been through.

When my laundry was ready to go on the line, I dropped the heavy basket on the back porch and ran up to my room to grab my ipod. Music could make any situation a little more fun. My ipod wasn’t anywhere to be found though and I was just about to give up the search when I remembered that Jen had borrowed it a few days before.

Jen’s room was the same as it had always been for the last ten years. Sure, it had some minor changes. Fewer teddy bears and a ton of high school memories, but it was still Jen. I caressed a photo taped to her mirror. It was a pic of Jen and me with our arms around each other, wearing our matching outfits. It seemed like yesterday. I sighed and searched the top of her desk and dresser for my ipod without any luck. I went over to her night stand and pulled out a several pieces of paper and sat them on her bed to rifle through the drawer for the missing ipod. I found the ipod and earphones in the drawer tucked in a stuffed kangaroo’s pouch. I grinned and picked up the papers to shove them back into her drawer.

My eyes snagged on a single word on one of the papers as I was shutting the drawer. I froze where I was standing and pulled the drawer back out slowly with my heart pumping so hard I could hear its pounding in my ears. The rapid thumping in my head caused me to feel off centered and dizzy as I lifted the paper out of the drawer and sat down on the edge of Jen’s bed. The top left hand corner had the name and address of the cancer clinic Jen’s mom had gone to for her regular checkups. The letter, however, was addressed to Jen.

My hand tightened around the letter as I sat there with a sick feeling settling into my stomach. The letter was dated a few days after Mrs. Collins had passed away. It said that Jen had missed her appointment for a biopsy and that they had tried to contact her several times by phone and would urge her not to put off the test, but instead either call the office or come in to reschedule her appointment. I read the letter several times, my eyes blurring from the tears. I sat there in disbelief, shock and horror. Jen needed a biopsy? Had she found a lump?

A fuzziness started in the back of my throat, a tingling in my jaw, and my body shook tiny tremors from the cold sweat I’d broken out in, pushing me to run for the bathroom to release the entire contents of my stomach. I sat on the cool tile, hanging from the toilet bowl with the letter still clutched in my hand, and tears running down my face for I don’t know how long. All I knew was that my world had been rocked to its very foundations.
If anything ever happened to Jen
… I shook my head viciously. It was nothing. It had to be a false alarm.

I got off the floor on shaky legs and splashed my face with cool water. I stared at my reflection in the mirror and saw the desperation there. I bowed my head and closed my eyes, my hands tightening painfully on the porcelain sink in front of me. I clenched my jaw and made up my mind that very second that I’d help Jen get through this, that I’d take her to get the biopsy, I’d hold her hand and I’d make sure no matter what … she would be alright, that she’d have a long, happy life. No one deserved it more. When I glanced up once again, I saw pain in the back of my eyes, but I also saw a hell of a lot of determination. I stuck the letter back in Jen’s nightstand drawer before heading back downstairs with my ipod forgotten in my pocket to hang my laundry to dry.

It turns out Mrs. Collins was right. With the sun shining down on my face, the cool breeze blowing the fresh scent of my laundry all around me, and the many little sounds of nature you can only hear if you live out in the country, I felt a little more calm by the time I was finished and heading inside to wait for Jen to return from town. I contemplated whether or not I should confront her or wait until she was ready to bring it up herself. I decided to wait a day or two, but I knew the quicker she got the test done the better, so I wasn’t going to wait longer than that.

en and I shared a very quiet lunch together before I excused myself to take a nap before I had to get ready for my evening with Matt. I couldn’t sit there and make small talk with her knowing that she could have the same thing that killed her mom and yet she was pretending nothing was going on. I rolled over on my bed with my earplugs in and let the soothing sounds of Louis Armstrong calm my frantic thoughts just enough not to run back downstairs and shake some sense into my best friend. She was scared. Simple as that. And I had to make her see that no matter what, I would be there for her. I lay in my bed so long, thinking over everything that had happened in the past week that I almost ran late getting dressed.

Matt didn’t tell me where he was taking me, but he did say we would have dinner somewhere relaxed. I opted for a teal and cream striped maxi dress with a little black shrug and a pair of black wedges. I left my hair down and kept my makeup to a bare minimum. He, of course, was right on time and I was glad I wouldn’t have to stand around and chat with him and Jen before we left since she was taking a shower.

“You seem awfully quiet tonight,” Matt said gently as we rode out of town once again. I shrugged a shoulder and sighed.

“Just a lot on my mind,” I muttered.

“Anything you need to talk to someone about?” he asked.

“No, but thank you.” I smiled and made an effort to push all my worry about Jen out of the forefront of my mind for the night. His eyes searched my face. I knew he could tell I was a little
off
, but I was grateful he didn’t push or prod. We turned down a road and I saw a small church sitting up on a pretty hill up ahead and gasped.

“You said it wasn’t a church!” I snapped, my eyes wide with the pain of betrayal. Matt’s head snapped to the side and his eyes met mine. I could see the anger building behind his eyes.