Families Page 16

  She quickly disarmed the system and opened the door. “Micky!”

  Micky immediately wrapped her arms around Debbie. The two had not seen or spoken to each other for over a year. Debbie didn’t even know if Micky was still in New England. They had completely split.

  “What are you doing here?” Debbie asked, thrown off by Micky’s affection.

  “Bunny, I need you.” Debbie could feel Micky trembling.

  “Come on in and get warm.” She took Micky’s hand and led her to the small couch next to the front windows.

  “Now, tell me what’s wrong,” Debbie said, after wrapping a blanket around Micky’s shoulders.

  “Deb, I have cancer.”

  “Oh, Micky. I’m so sorry.” The two embraced again.

  “Stomach, it’s bad.”

  “Tell me what I can do to help.”

  “I need you, Debbie. I need you.” Micky started to sob. “I don’t think I’m going to make it.”

  Debbie held her, rocking for a long time as Micky cried and cried. Once Debbie got her calmed down, she insisted Micky stay the night.

  Debbie had never seen Micky this emotional. She was always so strong, brushing off or removing herself from any disappointment or uncomfortable situation. This had to be very serious for Micky to have such a reaction.

  “I’m scared, bunny,” Micky said, lying next to Debbie with her head on Debbie’s shoulder.

  Micky told her she had been having digestive problems for weeks and had taken over-the-counter meds to ease the discomfort, but when she realized she had lost ten pounds without any change in her eating habits, she went to the doctor. They ran tests and found a tumor in her stomach and one in her pancreas.

  Debbie gasped when she heard pancreas. That was certain death.

  Micky said that the doctor wanted to remove the stomach tumor and try a new immunotherapy that could utilize Micky’s immune system to shrink the pancreas tumor and defend against any other cancer in Micky’s system. It was experimental but had shown great promise in ridding some patients of their cancers. Micky was skeptical about using any unconventional treatment and wanted to go for radical radiation and chemo.

  “Deb, I don’t have anyone but you. I don’t have any friends.” Micky looked up from Debbie’s shoulder. “You’re the only one who has put up with me. I can’t do this alone.”

  “And you don’t have to,” Debbie said, brushing the tears from Micky’s cheeks. “We are going to do this together. Now, you just rest. We’ll figure out a plan in the morning.”

  Micky was exhausted from the crying, the fear, and the disease, and fell asleep quickly.

  Debbie made her way to the kitchen to make herself some tea. Her mind was swarming with information, anxiety, and emotion. She heard a sound and turned quickly. “Robert!” She swiftly wiped the tears from her eyes.

  “I didn’t think anyone was still up.” He looked at the alarm pad at the back door. “Hmm, I could have sworn I set the alarm.” He walked to reset it.

  “I disarmed it.” Debbie burst into tears.

  “Deb.” He went to her. “Hey, what’s going on?”

  “Micky’s in my room sleeping.” Debbie buried her face in her hands. “She’s… very… ill.” Her voice skipped from the crying.

  “Come on.” Robert put his arm around Debbie and led her to the couch. He sat at one end, and she sat about three feet from him. She took a minute to compose herself.

  “Stomach and pancreatic cancer.”

  Robert put his fingers on his lips and rubbed them.

  “She’s scared, Robert. She needs me.”

  “Of course she does.” He moved a little closer to her. “Go to her, help her.”

  “Robert! She’s going to die!” Debbie exclaimed and then broke down again, leaning forward and crying into her hands. He moved over and pulled her into his arms.

  “She’s a hard woman to deal with sometimes,” Debbie said, wanting to talk to him. “But I love her.”

  Debbie poured it all out. Micky had helped Debbie find herself when she was young and so lost in a world she didn’t understand. Micky gave her the confidence to come out. Debbie was forever grateful to Micky for changing her life.

  “Deb, I want you to do whatever you need to do. Don’t worry about us here; we’ll be fine.”

  “What about Gini?”

  He smiled to try to ease her pain. “You’re worried about our warrior? You know she’ll be okay. I’ll figure something out. You just be with Micky.”

  “Thank you, Robert.” Debbie lay back against him. He could always comfort her. He was the best friend she’d ever had.

  They sat for a few minutes in silence, then a quiet voice said, “Rob… ber.”

  They both looked up to see Gini standing at the end of the couch. “Be… uff, sad.”

  Debbie immediately sat up, then stood and went to Gini. “Baby, you need to be sleeping. Go on back to bed. We’re all going to go sleep.”

  Gini hugged tight to Debbie. “Dee… bee, love. No… uff, be, sad. Dee… bee, love.”

  “Thank you, Gini, I love you too. Everything will be all right, you’ll see, all right.” She laid her cheek on the top of Gini’s head. She could feel Gini’s reassuring love all around her.

  Had Gini been standing there and heard the conversation, Robert wondered, or was her sixth sense in full gear? Whichever, he knew she was what Debbie needed to feel better.

  When Debbie went back to her room, Micky was sitting on the side of the bed putting her shoes on.

  “What are you doing?” Debbie asked.

  “I need to go; this is problematic for you. You have Gini to take care of. I’ll be fine.”

  “Micky, please. Get back in bed. It’s late, and you need to sleep. Tomorrow is a new day. Let’s take care of the world’s problems in the morning.”

  “It could be my last day.” Micky lay back on the bed, her legs still hanging over the side.

  Debbie took off her shoes.

  The next three weeks were grueling. Debbie commuted to Mass General every day to be with Micky. The prognosis worsened once they realized the cancer had spread to Micky’s liver. The doctors told Debbie Micky was too weak to start an effective chemo regime. They’d start with radiation. Micky refused to try the new immunotherapy.

  Every night Debbie went back to a house full of loving family. Church people brought more food to the house than they could eat, Lisa and Vicky took turns helping Alyssa take care of Gini while Robert worked, and Kensy was there to hold Debbie’s hand and wipe her tears. It felt wrong for a moment, to have this beautiful woman beside her when Micky was so ill, but she knew it was always like this when someone was dying. You felt like you’d gotten away with something, still being healthy and alive. You’re lucky, Debbie, and don’t forget it, she said to herself fiercely. Don’t take one moment of it for granted.

  “Cat… ter… rin,” Gini said with glee when she and Robert opened the front door.

  “Oh, honey, look at you.” Catherine threw her arms around Gini.

  The friends had kept in constant contact over the years with their video calls, and any time Catherine was in Boston she spent some time at the Youngs’ house.

  “Robert, Gini, I’d like you to meet Jose Perez. Honey, he’s my Robert.”

  “Be… uff, en… gage… ted.”

  “Nope, married!” Catherine held out her left hand and put Gini’s fingers on her wedding ring.

  “No!” Gini gasped. “Cat…ter…rin, be, marry?”

  “Yep. And… I’m going to have a little girl in about five months.”

  The two men stood watching their wives’ happy moments.

  “Congratulations,” Robert said. “Come on in.”

  Gini put her arm around Catherine, and they walked into the great room.

  With no hope in sight, Debbie brought Micky to hospice in New Haven, so she’d be close. The second week in February, Micky passed. She left strict instructions that she didn’t want a funeral and that
everything she owned go to Debbie. The hospital she’d worked at in Providence had a small memorial in remembrance of Michelle Lucinda Lawrence. Debbie, Robert, and Gini went. Micky thought she didn’t have any friends, but there was nothing but kind words, praise for her fine work, and loving feelings from people she had touched.

  When they drove around the circle in New Haven on their way home, Debbie asked Robert to take her to the church.

  She slowly walked down the aisle to a pew three rows back from the front and sat down. Robert and Gini stood in the sanctuary doorway.

  Reverend Gilbert walked up to them. “Robert, Gini, how nice to see you on this fine day.”

  Robert lifted his head for the reverend to look inside the church. He patted Robert on the shoulder, folded his hands in front of him, and went to Debbie’s side. Facing her, he put his arm on the back of the pew and spoke to her. She lowered her head into her hands. The reverend placed his hand on her head, lifted his face to the cross, and said a prayer out loud.

  “Cat… ter… rin, see… uff, tum… yee.”

  “What about my tummy. It’s not so big.” Catherine stood and turned sideways, so Gini could see her on the computer monitor. “See?”

  Gini giggled, her eyes open wide and gleaming.

  “What? Now, I remember when you had a big belly.”

  “Lewk… uff, bass… kit, baw.”

  “Yes, it looked like you had swallowed one of those brown seamed basketballs and it got stuck under your shirt.”

  Gini put her head back and laughed.

  Debbie sat across the room on the couch, crocheting. Micky’s death had so consumed her, she decided to find something that would keep her from thinking about it. She grabbed the yarn and pulled out all the stitches; it was too hard to figure out. She laid the yarn ball and needle down on the cushion.

  Kensy was amazing, always at Debbie’s side to console her. But Debbie couldn’t make herself tell Kensy about all her failed loves. When Micky was dying, she’d felt her tremendous loneliness and knew that she could have helped more. She’d been too focused on herself. It made her ashamed and it made her miss Micky terribly. She couldn’t get close to anyone ever again.

  Gini felt all of Debbie’s pain and went out of her way to try to make Debbie happy.

  “Be… uff, nap,” Gini said one afternoon. “Dee… bee, be… uff, nap, wiff, Guiney.”

  Debbie lay down with her. She had to admit she wanted to sleep. When she slept, she didn’t have to think about anything else.

  Gini reached over and rubbed on Debbie’s breast. Debbie took her hand and kissed it. Gini drifted off to sleep. The next day the same request from Gini, but she wanted to sleep in Debbie’s bed; once again, she reached for Debbie’s breast. It was a weak moment for Debbie, and she let Gini caress her chest. Then Gini kissed her on the lips.

  “No, baby, this isn’t right.”

  “Dee… bee, love.”

  As the days passed, the two women became more intimate, Debbie not wanting it but needing the love and affection. Gini caressed and sucked on Debbie’s breasts, and Debbie used her vibrator to satisfy herself.

  There were cameras in all the rooms, except Debbie’s quarters. After a week, midafternoon, Debbie held Gini in her arms as Gini slept.

  “Anyone home?” Debbie heard Robert’s voice.

  What was she to do? Debbie felt she couldn’t breathe. What if Gini woke and said something? She lay there frozen until she heard Robert’s car leave, then she grabbed her phone.

  Just to let you know, Gini and I are out shopping this afternoon. See you tonight.

  Okay, I was just home a few minutes ago to get my sports jacket for a meeting at the town square. I saw your car in the garage, thought you were there.

  We’re with Lisa.

  See you later. Have fun.

  Then she started crying. She’d never lied to him. Maybe she’d never told him about the intimacy between her and Gini when they were living alone in the condo. But this was different. She was messing around with his wife, her best friend’s wife.

  He’ll never know, Debbie convinced herself. No one will ever know. Alyssa was at the church spending time with Daniel, so no one knew she and Gini weren’t with Lisa. Okay, well, Lisa knew they weren’t together. Oh, God, what if Lisa is at the hospital. No, Lisa didn’t go back to work after her daughter was born. She wouldn’t be there. But what if—Gini so honest and real—what if she told him. Debbie wanted to die—right there, die.

  When Robert got home that night, he asked Gini how the shopping was.

  “Be… uff, goo.” She hugged around his waist.

  The next day, Gini wanted to sleep in Debbie’s room again.

  “No, baby. You sleep in your bed. We can’t do this anymore. Please, Gini, we can’t.”

  “Dee… bee, nee, love. Nee, be, hap… pee.”

  “Oh, Gini, you don’t have to save me, you don’t.” Debbie hugged her tight.

  Now she knew what Gini was trying to do. What a beautiful soul. What a wonderful friend.

  Out of the blue one day in mid-March, Gini asked Debbie to put a chair in the back bedroom. She wanted to sit and draw a picture for Robert.

  The room—Robert’s room—had sat empty for nearly seven years. They had furnished the extra bedroom upstairs as a guest room, but they seldom had guests so didn’t have any need for the room. Debbie figured Gini wanted it to be her space to draw or whatever.

  Debbie set the folding chair in the middle of the hardwood flooring, brought Gini a drawing tablet and a couple of crayons. Then there was another strange request. Gini wanted the yellow hard hat on her head.

  The hat had been stored on the top shelf of the linen closet between Jessica’s and Alyssa’s rooms.

  When she got Gini set up, Debbie went back into the kitchen to make a pie for dessert. Jessica was at choir practice and Robert was not yet home. The quiet of the house made Debbie think about Micky, how scared she had been when she was dying—what a vibrant woman before. But even then, even in her vibrancy, there’d been sadness. Why hadn’t Debbie done more? She felt her regret grow deeper.

  “Where is everybody?” Robert asked at about four-thirty.

  Debbie turned. “Jessie’s at the church with Alyssa and,” she paused, then smiled.

  It’s good to see Debbie smiling, Robert thought.

  “Gini is drawing in ‘Robert’s room.’”

  “Drawing,” he said with a puzzled look.

  “A picture for you.”

  They both walked to the bedroom door and stopped and looked at each other. Gini was seriously drawing what appeared to be shapes of some kind on the sheet—the hat sitting squarely on her head. Robert mouthed to Debbie, “Hard hat?”

  Debbie shrugged her shoulders and went back to the kitchen.

  “Hey, sweetheart.” Robert knelt and kissed Gini on the cheek. “What are you drawing?”

  Gini stopped sketching, put the crayon down, and pushed the tablet toward him. Her hand anchored the bottom left-hand corner. There were five straight lines, a couple of them parallel, the other three random; one long rectangle; and two smaller misshapen squares.

  “Nice,” he said. “I’m thinking you have an idea what to do with this room.”

  Gini smiled and opened her eyes wide, then moved her left hand and the paper fell to the floor. Robert reached down and picked it up. In the corner, written in awkward letters, was “daby.”

  He leaned over and cupped his hand under her chin and kissed her. Then it hit him. “Gini… are you trying to tell me you want to have a baby?”

  Gini grinned and rubbed her abdomen.

  “No,” he said. “You’re pregnant?”

  “Oh, yes. Bay… be, boy, Rob… bie.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Oh, yes. Cat… ter… rin, Guin… ney, bay… be, gether.”

  Robert put his arm around Gini and called Dr. Nelson.

  “Linda, Gini thinks she’s pregnant. Can you check her?”

 
“Absolutely. My appointments are done for the day. Bring her over.”

  Robert was skeptical since there was no indication that Gini’s hormone count had changed. However, her hormones weren’t constantly checked, and it had been a while. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on Gini’s part, or maybe she wanted another child. If so, they could adopt. But as he thought about it, he realized that Gini always knew such things.

  They walked to the kitchen as Robert folded the paper and stuck it in his pocket. “Listen, Deb, Gini and I are going to go check something out. We won’t be long.”

  “Okay, dinner’s regular time.”

  “No problem, we’ll be here.”

  Debbie went into the empty room and picked up the tablet from the seat. The page on top was blank; the hard hat was on the floor in front of the chair.

  About an hour later, Gini and Robert walked in laughing and talking, arm in arm. Robert put a prescription bag on the kitchen counter.

  “So, what’s up?” Debbie asked coming into the room.

  Robert opened the bag and handed Debbie the pill bottle.

  Debbie looked at it and then at them. “Prenatal vitamins? Gini?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  Robert took the folded paper out of his pocket, opened it, and laid it on the kitchen island. Debbie put her hand over her mouth, covering her grin.

  “Daddy, Daddy,” Jessica called, running into the room.

  He lifted her up on the counter. “Princess, how’d you like to be a big sister?”

  She looked at Gini, then threw her arms around his neck. “We’ll name him Robbie.”

  Jessica already knew—whether Gini had told her, or she had her mother’s same sixth sense, Debbie didn’t know—but Jessica knew.

  Chapter 15—Filled with Heartache

  The house was full of happiness after the big announcement. And Catherine was thrilled that she and Gini would have kids the same age. How wonderful to share such joy with her best friend.

  Debbie tried to be uplifted with the news, but it only compounded her anxieties. She kept waking in the middle of the night in cold sweats with her heart pounding. What if Gini died in childbirth? What if Robert found out about her and Gini. How could she tell Kensy to leave her alone without hurting a woman she adored?