The Milestone Tapes (21 page)

Jenna glanced at the clock in her car as she pulled out of the spot onto the main street, still a few hours before Mia got out of school, but the weather was becoming treacherous. Rain pelted her windshield faster than the blades could sweep it away. She was no more than a few minutes from Ginny’s house, and pulled into a parking lot to turn away. She wanted to finish as much business today as possible.

The gravel drive crunched under the tires of the heavy truck as Jenna slowly inclined towards to the house. Lights blazed inside, a warm glow against the gray low cloud cover. Grabbing her umbrella, Jenna bolted from the car, running towards the front door.

“Jenna?” Ginny pulled the aluminum door away, ushering Jenna into the cozy, warm family room.

“Hi. Sorry, I should have called, are you busy?” Jenna asked, looking around.

“No, not at all, I’m happy you stopped by. Is everything all right?” Ginny reached for Jenna’s coat as she shrugged it off her shoulders, thawing in the warmth of the tiny house.

“Everything’s fine, but I wanted to give you this,” Jenna dug in her purse, pulling the carbon copy receipt from the jeweler out, handing it over to Ginny. “I’m having something made for Gabe, but it will take a few weeks and I’m not sure that I’ll ... ” Jenna trailed off.

“You’d like me to pick it up?” Ginny finished.

“If you wouldn’t mind, it’s just down the street,” Jenna explained, gesturing towards the direction of the shop.

“It’s no problem.” Ginny looked over the piece of paper, walking slowly to a pin it on her board of notes and reminders hanging in the kitchen.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.”

Ginny waved her hand away, brushing off the favor. That was the goodness of her, her willingness to help, and expect not even a thank you in return.

“Coffee?” Ginny offered, pulling a chipped mug down from a small cabinet.

“That sounds pretty perfect.” Jenna smiled, rubbing her hands across her arms, trying to warm them with light friction.

Ginny poured two cups and joined Jenna at the table, sliding a mug to her.

“Mmm, this is so good, thank you.” Jenna took a long pull of the strong, black coffee, feeling it trace warmth down her spine. “Ginny, actually, there was something else. I was wondering if you’d feel like coming back, on a pretty regular basis.”

Ginny looked at Jenna, lowering her own mug and setting it back on the table. “Sure.” Ginny tilted her head to the side before continuing. “Now, what is it you’re not telling me Jenna?”

Last Ginny knew they were still a long ways out needing her back full time. Of course she’d want to know why, suddenly, only three months into things, Jenna would be here imploring her to return.

“Oh, Gin, I don’t know—and maybe I’m over thinking things, but I can feel something coming, a change maybe. It feels like an urgency. Like the pulse of my life is speeding up and I need to get busy with making things happen—before it’s too late.” Jenna lowered her eyes, drawing circles with her finger tips on the faded finish on the kitchen table, tracing a faded water ring.

Ginny nodded slowly, reaching out to pat the back Jenna’s hand in comfort before pulling back slowly.

“I need you to take Mia all day Friday, can you do that? The kids have an institute day, so no school.” Jenna continued to draw circles, avoiding Ginny’s watchful eyes.

“Sure,” Ginny sipped her coffee, giving Jenna the floor to elaborate.

“I would like you to take her out all day. I can bring her here or give you money for the movies, or whatever else you’d come up with,” Jenna began. “I just need time to do some things around the house ... alone.”

“Sure, we can catch a movie and maybe go to the beach, if this weather eases up some.” Ginny looked out the window, watching the heavy drops splatter viciously against the weak panes of her windows.

“Thank you.” Jenna sipped her coffee slowly, and joined Ginny in her trance, lulled by the steady waves of rain.

“Will you please tell me what is going on?” Ginny asked again, “I will help you in whatever ways I can, hon, but you need to tell me what has brought on this change.”

“Ginny, you know what’s going on.” Jenna shook her head slowly, sadly.

“I know some of what’s going on, but it’s pretty clear there is something you’re still not telling me. This is your business, but Jenna, I love you like family and I’m asking you as a friend.”

“Okay, fair enough,” Jenna began.

Jenna sat in the overly warm kitchen, looking into Ginny’s terrified eyes, and offered what she could, full disclosure. She reminded Ginny about the morning she and Gabe went to Seattle for the last time, about the realization she faced, knowing that she was going to die and knowing that she was going to leave behind her little girl. She spoke of her guilt over making Gabe a single father, and her fears that it would swallow him whole.

“You know that they over estimated things. I never really had six months.”

She told Ginny about the support group meeting, all those years ago, and schoolteacher with her final goal, the tapes. She left nothing out, she filled the quiet home with all of her fears and doubts and hesitations, and finally, her resolve.

“I lost track of time,” Jenna finished, watching Ginny dab the corners of her eyes with a napkin. “I had all of these things I wanted to do with what was left. I wanted to take Mia’s entire life and bottle up in 6 months. But, I don’t have six months. Every day gets harder, and I cannot put these things off any longer, I need your help.”

Ginny rose to feet slowly, the battered legs of her chair scraping loudly against the washed out linoleum floor. She gathered Jenna in her arms, like a mother would hold her adult child, close and with all the love in the world nestled between them.

“I know, honey, I know,” Ginny soothed, and Jenna, under the loving touch, unraveled. All the fears, frustrations and disappointments melted into a wash of tears. It was like Ginny had pulled a single thread, and fabric of Jenna’s composure disentangled itself.

“I’m sorry Jenna, I’m so sorry,” Ginny hushed sympathetically, rubbing circles over the surface of Jenna’s back. “It’s okay to cry, sugar, let it out.”

Jenna bawled into Ginny’s ample shoulder, allowing herself to be held, comforted and soothed. She could feel the tears soaking the heavy cotton T-shirt. She needed this cry, to feel helpless, alone and scared, with the permission to feel all of that. It was a relief, to uncork all of these fears and have someone understand.

“I think what you’re doing, sugar, is a wonderful thing, the best thing.” Ginny held tight, whispering softly into Jenna’s ear, so close that Jenna could feel the heat from her sweet breath wash over her. “When my youngest, Sharon, got married just a few years back, she missed her Daddy so much. Happiest day of her life, but it didn’t matter, she was just missing her Daddy. I wish I had thought of havin’ him make something sweet for her, like you’re doin’ for Mia, it’s a loving, kind thing.”

Jenna loosened her grip on Ginny and pulled back slowly. She grabbed Ginny’s hands tightly, “Ginny, I need you to watch over my family. I know I’m asking a lot of you, but I need that much,” Jenna pleaded.

“Oh Jenna.”

“I know it’s a lot. But you’re so good with Mia, and she’s going to need someone. I’m scared Gabe’s going to be … lost for a long time … she’s going to need someone to lean on to help take care of her, please,” Jenna entreated.

“I love Mia like she was my own, Jenna, there is no way I’d leave her, ever. And Gabe too, and you … you’re family to me.” Ginny locked eyes with Jenna.

“Ginny.” Jenna wiped under her eyes and pulled a tissue from her pocket. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“You’re gonna do what you have to do.”

~ * * * ~

Jenna watched the tide roll over the bay below her. She stood at the end of her land, feeling like it was end of the world. Mia was playing a few strides back, and Gabe was lounged on a lawn chair. It was early, Ginny would be collecting Mia soon, and Gabe would sneak off to work with an apologetic smile. It was the sort of morning that called them outside: the wind was mild and abiding off the coast, the clouds holding the rain at bay, and though there was no sun, the fall rarely offered a escape so inviting.

“I don’t have school today, Daddy,” Mia grinned.

“I know, that must be nice, I have to work.” Gabe forced a small frown.

“I’m going out with Ginny, we’re going to the movies!” Mia twirled about in the soft grass, spinning pirouettes, her skirt swirling out in a parachute of soft fabric.

“That’ll be fun,” Gabe agreed, glancing at Jenna with questioning eyes, silently questioning why. “You feeling okay, babe?” he asked innocently, folding his newspaper and setting it aside.

“Oh, I’m fine. Just a bunch of things to do, Mia would be bored to tears.” Jenna brushed off his concern, not bothering to turn around, pretending to be bewitched by the sight of the ships going out to sea.

“Want company?” Gabe pressed, Jenna winced. She didn’t want to dive into this conversation in front of Mia.

“You’ll be thinking about work all day if you’re here, so you might as well just be there,” Jenna laughed, knowing that the truth in that rang true.

“Probably right,” Gabe sighed deeply in defeat. “Speaking of, I should be heading out,” Gabe groaned as he hefted himself from the seat.

“Bye Daddy, have a fun day!” Mia jovially waved, sprinting across the short distance to his side, latching her arms around his thigh.

“Bye Mia baby, have a fun day, too.” Gabe lifted Mia up, smothering her cheeks with kisses until she caved with fits of squirmy, joyful laughter.

Jenna turned, pacing across the lawn to the little klatch of love. She wrapped her arms around Gabe from behind, feeling the way his muscles ebbed and flowed under the thick, dowdy fabric of his coat. She pressed her face between his shoulder blades, breathing in deeply, committing his scent, something earthy and spicy, to memory.

“All right, all right, I’ve gotta go.” Gabe finally gave up, placing Mia on the ground gently.

“I love you Gabe.” Jenna released him as her turned to face her.

“I’ll stay,” Gabe answered, meaning it. He’d stay with her, run all the errands and ignore all the distractions.

“No, you go. Make beautiful houses,” Jenna teased lightly, wrapping her arms around him again, stepping up on her toes to kiss his lips, tasting his coffee.

“You sure?” He pulled back, a pensive look causing his eyes to squint in speculation.

He was getting old, Jenna realized. The thin of hint of wrinkle pinched around his eyes, his temples pierced with silver.

“Scout’s honor.” Jenna held up her hand in innocence, lying to him. She hated it, wishing she could cross her fingers to absolve her guilt, but it was childish and she’d own her deception.

In another life, with another set of circumstances, she’d have begged him to stay. She would have devoured a day of nothingness with him alone. But that luxury would require time, a clock less measure, something she didn’t have, something she hadn’t had in a long while.

“Okay,” he drawled, stretching out the word to let his hesitance to seep through.

“Bye, I love you,” Jenna murmured, kissing his cheek again, giving him a playful shove back towards the house.

“Bye.” He grabbed her again, pulling her in close, kissing her again.

She loved him. The feeling of that was a high tide, swallowing everything else. Nothing was untouched by how she felt.

Ginny’s truck rumbled up the long drive, dividing the silence with its forceful protest.

“Ginny!” Mia screamed with delight, breaking into a barefooted run towards the house.

Gabe plowed after her, and Jenna stood still, rooted in place, watching the people she loved moving away from her. Silence was left in their wake, a soft breeze whipped at her sweater coat, and she pulled it closer around her, holding herself together. She started after them, still watching the place where they disappeared, into the deep recesses of their home. It was longing she felt now, for all of them. She knew then, that she’d always want the most what she could never have. She wanted to keep pace with them, stay with them forever, latch herself to their sides.

Inside, Ginny was already busying herself, putting away sacks of fresh vegetables and fruit, Tupperware filled with sauces and casseroles and soups. Tarts and muffins rested on thin paper plates spread across the butcher block island.

“Momma! Look at what Ginny brought! Isn’t it so pretty!” Mia held up an ornately carved box, “She said it’s my hope chest!” Mia ran her chubby fingers over the beautiful detailed carvings.

“That’s lovely. Did you thank Ginny?” Jenna rested her hands on her hips, leaning over Mia to study the box.

It was crafted from thick, dark wood, with Native American detailing, tribal fish swam across the raw wood panels. A bronze latch secured the top, and inside smelt of pine and wood oil.

“Of course, not saying thank you is rude!” Mia replied, still enthralled. “But she said I can’t have it yet, that I have to give it to you first, ‘cause that’s how a hope chest works. That Momma’s fill up the hope chest for daughters. She said that’s it’s still mine, but not until I’m older.” Mia held up the box, offering it to Jenna.