The Legacy: Making Wishes Come True (18 page)

He could hear her breathing echoing off the walls of the cave. Time was standing still, waiting for him to catch up. “I really love you.”

She broke into sobs and flung herself into his arms. He kissed her, and she kissed him back. They sank to their knees, clinging to one another, raining kisses on lips, cheeks, foreheads, throats. They were in the light once more and glowing with blue-white fire. “Say it again,” she pleaded between kisses. “Tell me again.”

“I love you.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

The sun had long since set when Richard took her back to her grandmother’s. Jenny didn’t care how angry Marian was going to be. Nothing mattered except what she’d experienced in Richard’s arms inside the cave. He loved her. She loved him. Not even the throbbing pain of her body could rob her of her joy.

“You’re very late.” Marian held open the door for them, but her steely gaze was only on Richard.

“It was my fault,” Jenny said quickly. “I fell asleep out on the boat and Richard didn’t have the heart to wake me. By the time I woke up, we had a headwind.” It was a partial truth.

“You look blue from the cold.”

Richard had driven home with the car heater on high, but still her teeth chattered. “I’ll take a warm bath.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Crawford,” Richard said, hating not being able to tell her that he loved Jenny and wanted her with him. He didn’t care whether Marian approved or not. Jenny
belonged
with him.

“I’ll deal with you later.” Marian’s tone turned icy.

Anger flared, but Jenny squeezed his hand, and he swallowed his retort.

Marian took Jenny’s free hand and rubbed it. Jenny wished it weren’t so cold. “Your friend Kimbra’s called three times,” Grandmother said.

“Kimbra? What did she want?”

“She wouldn’t tell me. She wants to talk to you.”

“Maybe I’d better leave,” Richard said.

“No!” Jenny hung on to his hand. She was suddenly frightened. Why would Kimbra have called—she knew that Jenny was supposed to call her Tuesday when she got back to Boston. “Stay with me until I talk to her.”

Taken aback by the frightened look on her face, he agreed. He followed her into Marian’s sun room and watched as her fingers fumbled with the ornate phone.

“Let me,” her grandmother offered.

“I’ll do it,” Jenny insisted.

She listened as Kimbra’s phone rang, her heart pounding. When Kimbra answered, Jenny asked lightly, “Checking up on me?”

“Oh, Jenny … Jenny, it’s you.” Kimbra’s voice sounded choked.

“What’s wrong?”

“Elaine’s mother called this afternoon. Elaine’s dead, Jenny. She’s dead.”

Jenny swayed, and Richard’s arm shot around her. Words clogged her throat until she could barely whisper, “I don’t believe it. How?” Her knuckles went white on the receiver. Marian started to take the phone away, but Richard’s strong hand grasped her wrist. For a few moments, their gazes locked in silent battle, but it was Marian who backed off.

“Remember that flu she told us about? Well, she never got over it. She just got sicker and sicker. She went to the hospital, and they said her resistance was low because of all the chemo she’s been taking.”

“They didn’t send her to Boston? To Dr. Gallagher?”

“She was too sick to move.”

As Kimbra talked, Jenny began to feel disjointed, removed. A nonsensical nursery rhyme played over and over in her mind.
One little, two little, three little Indians
 … “Jenny, Elaine’s gone! Just like that.”

Four little, five little, six little Indians
 … “I’ll call her mother.” Jenny said. “W-we’ll do something …”
Six little, five little, four little Indians
 … Jenny didn’t remember what else she said to Kimbra, but eventually she hung up.

“Honey, what’s the matter?” Grandmother asked.

“Two,” Jenny said softly, holding up two fingers. “Only two little Indians left.” Then she collapsed in Richard’s arms.

O
UTSIDE
J
ENNY’S BEDROOM
window, the trees blazed with autumn colors. She was glad to be out of the hospital once more, but her days were dreadfully monotonous. It had been bad enough when she’d spent her birthday in the hospital in May, but now it looked as if she’d be spending her Christmas holiday in a room that was a replica of the hospital.

Bottles of pills lined her dresser. An oxygen tank stood beside her bed, next to an IV stand. Bedside tables, food trays, and strange equipment took up space in the room that had once sheltered dolls and teddy bears.

Grandmother had fixed up one of the guest rooms for Mrs. Kelly, who took care of Jenny full-time. The nurse changed IV bags twice a day, cleaned the catheter surgically implanted in Jenny’s chest, doled out pills in prescribed order, and made certain that the linen was fresh and clean. Jenny drifted in and out of wakefulness, remembering her sailing
trip with Richard, their time in the cave, the news about Elaine.…

Jenny had been too ill to attend the funeral, but Kimbra had gone and had written her all about it. Grandmother had promised to fly Kimbra in over Thanksgiving weekend, and that, coupled with Richard’s coming for the holiday, was all that kept her going from day to day.

Richard
 … She turned her head, so that she could stare at his photograph. She missed him so much. But he was now in his junior year at Princeton, with definite plans to enter law school. His life was moving forward, while hers seemed on endless hold.

She’d had to give up her studies. “Time enough for that after Christmas,” Grandmother had said when Jenny had cried over falling behind in her schoolwork. “Goodness, as bright as you are, you’ll catch up and pass everyone else in no time.”

Jenny appreciated all that her grandmother did for her. Every afternoon, Marian would bring her needlepoint into Jenny’s room, where she worked even if Jenny slept. “I’m bad company,” Jenny would say, if she dozed off.

“You’re wonderful company. This is a special time for me. No phones … no interruptions. I get so much accomplished. And best of all, I get to be with you.”

Jenny sometimes caught her grandmother staring at her sadly. She would see Marian’s eyes mist over, then watch as she quickly dabbed away the moisture and proceed as if nothing had happened. Jenny hated knowing her illness caused her grandmother grief, but there was nothing she could do about it.

She did observe a difference in her routine from
previous at-home confinements. One day, she asked her grandmother about it. “How come I don’t have to go in for outpatient treatments anymore?”

“Dr. Gallagher feels we can administer whatever you need right here,” her grandmother explained.

“It seems strange. He’s never done that before.”

“You know doctors, just when you think you’ve got them figured out … Anyway, I thought you’d be glad not to go in. Don’t tell me you want to.”

“No way. I hope I never see the inside of that place again. Still, I think about the kids on the pediatric floor, and I miss them. I feel so sorry for the little ones because they don’t understand why they’re being tortured.”

“Yes, it must seem like torture to them, but it’s necessary. I know they must miss you. You were a help to them.”

“Only a cure for cancer can help,” Jenny insisted softly.

Now, Jenny’s days seemed to melt into one another in an endless chain of pills and bed rest. She focused on the calendar next to Richard’s picture. Another week until Thanksgiving. Then Christmas and a brand-new year. Perhaps things would turn around for her in 1980. She hoped so.

“Jenny’s dying, isn’t she?” With great effort, Richard kept his voice even. “I’ve been with her thirty minutes, and I can tell things are different this time. She’s never going to get well, is she?”

He’d come home unexpectedly for the weekend, concerned about Jenny. It had been fun to surprise her, but her wasted appearance alarmed him, and so once she’d fallen asleep, he’d gone down to Marian
to confront her. Marian studied him guardedly. “Be honest with me,” he begged.

“All right,” Marian said quietly. “The truth is, she’ll never get well, but she doesn’t realize it yet. Neither do I want her to.”

Instantly, his stomach churned, and he had to clutch the edge of her desk for support. “Please tell me everything.”

Marian pinched the bridge of her nose wearily. “The time between each relapse has been briefer, and each round of chemo more potent. Her last hospitalization was especially harrowing. I honestly didn’t think I would even be able to bring her home.”

He’d been away, and Jenny had almost died. The reality made cold fear sit like a stone in his stomach. Suddenly, he knew he’d done the right thing the night before, even though it had caused a heated argument with his father. Now, he had to tell Marian. But before dropping his bombshell, he asked, “Dr. Gallagher’s giving up?”

“Dr. Gallagher’s out of options.” Marian resettled her glasses. “He says all we can do now is bring her home, make her comfortable, and … wait.”

“How long?”

“Maybe another month.”

Her words felt like blows to his midsection. “She kept talking about the new year and plans for school—”

“Pain control is our objective now. Mrs. Kelly is authorized to give her as much morphine as necessary so that she won’t hurt.”

A film of tears sprang up in Marian’s eyes that she didn’t bother to hide. Richard felt sorry for her. She was losing the one thing she loved above all else.
But, then, so was he. “I’ve dropped out of Princeton,” he told her.

His announcement caused Marian to straighten in her chair. “You’ve what?”

“I think about Jenny all the time. I can’t study. I can’t concentrate in class. There’s no sense in my staying there when I want to be here.”

“I’m sure your father disagreed with your decision.”

“He did at first. But I explained that I’ll have the rest of my life to get my diploma and go to law school. I have only
now
with Jenny.”

He toyed with the old inkwell on her desk. “In a way, Jenny’s responsible for my even having a future.”

“How so?”

“If she hadn’t been who she is, I would have never gotten it together with my father. I would have wasted years of my life. Jenny made me dream dreams. She made me want to be somebody.” He couldn’t confess that his goals included to one day marry Jenny. “Now that I know time’s running out for her …” He couldn’t finish his sentence.

“Have you told Jenny about your decision?”

“Not yet.”

“She’ll suspect something’s wrong. I—I don’t want her knowing—”

“You can’t stop her from knowing.”

“But I
will
postpone it for as long as possible.” Marian’s eyebrow arched, and her tone was adamant.

“You should let her talk about dying. She needs to talk to someone about it.” He wasn’t sure how he knew that, but he did.

Marian stared at him for a long time, so long that
he began to grow nervous. Had he overstepped his bounds again? So what if he had! He couldn’t stand on ceremonies now that he knew Jenny’s days were numbered.

“You are not the man I would have wanted for her,” Marian said.

“I know.”

“But you’ve always been the one she’s wanted for herself.”

Her candor caught him by surprise. “I’ve loved her for a long time. I still love her, and I want to be with her. Not because she needs me, but because I need her.” A hard knot formed in his throat.

Marian struggled slowly to her feet. She looked old to him and battle-weary. “I won’t stand in your way, Richard. Her happiness is everything to me. It’s all I have left to give her.”

For an instant, he wanted to reach out and touch Marian Crawford. They were two people who loved the same person, who were going to lose the same person. Jenny had bound them together in an intricate and extraordinary way. He wasn’t sure what future course that bonding would take. “Thank you,” Richard said.

“We’re setting up her special Christmas tree tonight. Perhaps you could carry her down to the sofa and let her tell you how she wants it decorated.”

“I’d like that very much.”

Marian walked to the door and paused. “I’ll arrange for you to have a key to my house. That way, you can come and go as you like.”

He was stunned. “I—I don’t know what to say—”

“Make her happy. Make my Jenny happy for whatever time she has left.”