The Battered Heiress Blues (29 page)

Tommy and Ms. Martin took on the daunting task of cleaning up all the torn wrapping paper and returning some of the gifts to the cottage. John and Gabe moved to the keeping room, off the kitchen, to try and put together the basketball hoop. Mattie was still mesmerized by his marble maze and the puppy was slap worn out from the excitement of Christmas morning. She lay quietly next to her little master as he played. Henry and I were left in the drawing room, side by side, on the couch, listening to carols in front of the tree.

“Where’s my big gift?” he inquired. “The one you promised me today.”

John’s cancer and impending departure from Spencer Industries made me rethink the gravity of the gift I’d drawn up for Henry. His own resignation from the company meant that he was finally free. He had clear waters ahead to charter the course that would suit himself and his daughter. My gift would only muddy the waters and pull him under. Though he professed to be a changed man, Henry was Henry. The lust for power was still just beneath the surface. I did have faith that, over time, his need for power would decrease, as his daughter filled his life with experiences that business couldn’t manufacture, but change demands continual good decision making opportunities. Henry needed time to become that man before I levied such a burden on him.

I grabbed my belly. “Here’s your big gift. Isn’t this enough?”

“-Of course. There could be no better gift,” he said, embarrassed for asking.

“What are your plans?” I inquired, trying to change the subject.

“I’ll go to New York and clear out my office for the replacement your father has hired. I need to get some things from my apartment.”

“Are you going to sell it?”

“No. Kate is living in it. She’s welcome to live there for as long as she wants while she’s job hunting.”

“Oh,” I said surprised. “I figured she was back in London.”

“I told her about the baby, this morning. Maybe I should have let you, but she’s my sister and I’m excited.”

“No. It’s fine. How is she? I hate that she’s alone on Christmas.”

“Me too. She can’t bear you being disappointed in her. I invited her, but she wouldn’t come down for the holidays.”

“Gabe’s past it, you know. He’s moved on. I think he’s sweet on Dr. Brandon’s nurse.”

“And you? Are you past it?”

“She’s a sister to me, Tru. She’s my best friend. We both made mistakes. I was probably too harsh in my criticisms, but I meant what I said. Friends have to tell each other the truth- even when it’s hard…like you telling me that you slept with Tricia. That couldn’t have been easy.”

“I don’t want to talk about that again.”

“Why? Nothing ever gets solved by just pretending and living in a false reality. The Walkers’ should learn to face things head on and deal with the consequences.”

“-Like you Spencers’…”

“You were right when you accused me of being the reason Connor died.”

“No…”

“Yes. I was running from my problems with Jackson. Regardless of the evilness of Hector Costelano, if I had stayed in New York, and dealt with that cheating loser head on, I would never have been at that clinic. Connor would be having his first Christmas in my mom’s house. One poor choice made me lose my everything. That’s on me. I see that now. You were right. I was wrong. But I also know that I can’t change the past. I’ve discovered, with Gabe’s help, that losing Connor wasn’t a punishment for being a coward. That’s what I was- a coward. I’m not that person anymore. I’m done running.”

“I can see that.”

“Your sister should have told Gabe about her feelings- about being scared of Mattie’s struggles. He could have helped her through them. She didn’t give him the chance to be the voice of reason. Don’t you think Gabe has had moments of being embarrassed or worn out to the point of giving up? Do you know how hard it is to love someone that can’t show you love back? Gabe’s no saint. He’s human. The damaging part is that Kate did exactly the same thing to him as Mattie’s mother. She broke his heart when she ran off to New York. If she had shared her concerns, and showed a little trust, Gabe would have gotten past it.”

“She is sorry.”

“Then she should tell him so. She should make it right- even if the apology doesn’t lead to reconciliation. Besides, Kate’s place is here. Her niece will be born soon. Surely, she won’t miss that due to pride?”

“I’ll talk to her. I’m leaving tonight.”

“So soon?”

“Your father is not one to keep waiting. I need to conclude our business arrangement so I can start looking for another job. Your baby’s father is unemployed, remember?”

“You’ll find something.”

“I have some ideas.”

“Care to share?” I asked.

“Not yet. Let’s get that baby born healthy, first.”

“Agreed.”

“Tommy said that Costelano was killed by the police.”

“Yes. I wish I felt sorry, but I don’t. I’m not that forgiving. The police said that they were sending back my belongings from the investigation. I hope my mom’s locket is among the things sent. I must have lost it that night in the clinic during the struggle. I feel naked without it.”

“Let’s not talk about that night. I’m just thankful that you and Emma are okay. When is the next ultrasound scan? I want to be there.”

“Three weeks. I’ll be thirty-two weeks on January 22.”

“I can’t wait to see her,” he said happy.

“She’s going to be a handful. I can already tell.”

“Just like her mother,” he replied, laughing.

“Hilarious. Go pack. I wouldn’t want you to miss your flight. And send my love to Kate. Tell her that I said to get over herself and come back home.”

He shook his head, but it was restrained, like he dreaded the upcoming conversation with his sister. Before leaving, he kissed me on the forehead, rubbed my belly and went upstairs to gather his things. His fact finding mission had turned out to take longer than expected. He had yet to discover the real reason behind John’s visit. I was anxious for him to return to New York so that Tommy and I could sort out John’s surgery at Emory.

20

W
ith Henry gone, a family meeting was called to discuss John’s cancer. One by one, we filed into the kitchen, leaving Mattie and Dog watching television in the family room. As we took our seats, Ms. Martin set out coffee service, cake, and a bowl of sliced fruit on the table. Though I longed for the cake, I knew that she meant for me alone to have the fruit.

John was looking more tired than usual. The whites of his eyes had become a pale yellow color like lemon curd. He had barely touched his Christmas dinner and I knew that the disease was waging a nasty war inside of him. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to stomach the coffee, I quietly retrieved a glass of cold milk from the refrigerator along with a bottle of water for myself. He grabbed my hand as I placed the milk before him. He thanked me for looking after him. Acknowledging his kind words by stroking his arm, I waddled back to my own chair. Once seated, Tommy took the floor.

“Dad and I are leaving tomorrow to fly to Atlanta. The surgeon at Emory is expecting us in the afternoon to go over his surgery.”

“Someone needs to explain this Whipple procedure to me,” I demanded.

John responded before Tommy could speak for him again. He didn’t like the role of the sick person. My brother would have to tread carefully.

“The surgeon will remove the head of the pancreas, the distal stomach, gallbladder, common bile duct, duodenum, jejunum, and some surrounding lymph nodes,” my dad spoke calmly and efficiently.

“Well, you lost me after stomach,” I said smiling, trying to lighten the mood.

“Will you have to undergo chemotherapy?” asked Ms. Martin.

“I’m not certain of anything yet. The doctors in New York told me that there was no evidence that the tumor had metastasized, but that was two months ago. The doctors at Emory will do a PET scan the day after tomorrow to determine if that still holds true.”

“How long do you have to stay at Emory after the procedure?” I wondered.

“Patients usually stay about two weeks. I suppose it will depend on how things go in surgery and the results of the PET scan.”

“I’ll pack a bag tonight and come with you. I can rest there just as easily as I can here.”

“Julia, the hospital is no place for you, considering your condition. I appreciate the gesture, but you need to protect my grandbaby.”

“Don’t worry, Jewels, I’ve taken a leave of absence to be with Dad. He won’t be alone. I’ll keep you updated twice a day, okay?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not really,” Gabe interjected.

“I want you and your brother to understand something, very clearly. My lawyer has drawn up a living will. I expect the both of you to honor it to the letter. Do you understand?”

“That will depend on what it says,” I said skeptically.

“I do not want any heroic measures to be taken on my behalf. If things go badly, I do not want to be placed on life support…”

“This meeting is adjourned. I’m not going to entertain any thought that has a bad outcome. You’ll have the procedure and you’ll be fine. That’s it. I’ve had enough loss this year. Do you understand?”

“Julia, you have to be prepared for all possible outcomes- not just the one you want. For me, you must promise to adhere to my wishes. Please.”

“Let me see the papers. You know, I’m a lawyer. I could have prepared them for you.”

“This isn’t the type of thing that a daughter completes for her ailing father. Tommy, do I have your word?”

“Yes. I’ll respect your wishes,” my brother replied.

“Julia?”

“I’ll think about it…and that’s all I care to hear tonight. Mattie and I are taking Dog upstairs to watch the History Channel. He’ll be up all night and I’ll be asleep in five minutes. Anyone care to join us?”

“Will there be popcorn?” Gabe asked.

“No. I’m a fatty, remember? All I can offer you is boring television,” I replied, laughing as I made my way into the family room. Turning back to my father, I said, “I love you, John. Wake me before you leave.”

My father nodded in agreement and walked out onto the veranda with Tommy. I was trying to stay positive, but the living will dialogue threw me for a loop. The very discussion made me feel like he was giving up- that he was resigned to death. Life was going to be the theme in this upcoming year. I wasn’t going to prepare for any other outcome. He better fight the good fight.

Mattie ran up ahead of me and Gabe, with Dog following closely at his heels. She was a beautiful girl, all furry and lanky. Her legs were the biggest thing about her and she had the sweetest disposition. Gabe had done well when picking her from the litter. Mattie didn’t even seem to mind when she tried to gnaw on his fingers. He’d simply shove a toy in her mouth and turn her body in the opposite direction as punishment. She’d met her match in every way. Mattie loved repetition. Where the rest of us would give up correcting her, he could go on for a good fifteen minutes until he proved his point. He was a born animal trainer. We all piled on the bed. Gabe was talking to Mattie as I drifted off to sleep.

John woke me in the morning to say his goodbyes. He seemed to have a renewed vigor despite his frailty last evening. Perhaps this was for my benefit, but I chose to accept his demeanor as the gospel. He was fine. I was fine. The surgery would be a success and he’d be back before Emma Grace was born. That was my reality.

The day passed slowly, waiting to hear of their arrival at the hospital. Gabe was back to work and Mattie and Ms. Martin were at the dreaded horse therapy. Dog and I were the only two left in the big house. She was good company, following me around like a shadow from one room to the next.

For a few weeks now, my heart was being drawn outside to the cemetery to visit with Connor. The holidays were hard, knowing that, under different circumstances, he’d be here, taking his first steps. Dog needed to be walked and I needed time alone with my son. I latched on her leash and opened the door slowly, trying to see if anyone was in sight. While I was a grown woman, capable of making good decisions, I was still made to feel like a prisoner being watched. After scanning the yard for people and cars, I decided to make my escape.