“I love what I do,” she said. “I’ve worked so hard to get to this place. I’m only fifty-seven. And I’m tired of always focusing on Chad’s happiness. I thought it was my turn...” A solitary tear ran down her cheek. “I guess it is now.”
Anna and Joe talked into the night. They got past Chad’s discontent and Anna’s confusion about it and covered all those years when their kids were young, when they all got together for backyard barbecues or day trips to the lake and one trip to Disneyland that was a near disaster when Anna and Chad briefly lost Bess and finally found her with a princess. She told him about when Chad was helping Mike coach and how proud she was of both of them. “I wanted to kick him in the ass, but I didn’t want him to die,” she said, another large tear spilling over. “Sorry, tequila tears.”
“You should go to bed,” he said. “And I need to borrow a couch.”
“Nonsense. I have two guest rooms. Would you like to borrow a pair of Chad’s pajamas?”
He made a face. “You will never see me in your husband’s pajamas. I’ll rough it.”
“Take Mike’s room. Mike put fresh sheets on the bed before he left and there’s shaving stuff and new toothbrushes in the bathroom. I’ll get the coffee ready, so if you get up first, just flip it on.”
“Thanks, Anna. It would be stupid of me to try to drive back to Menlo Park.”
“I wouldn’t sleep at all, thinking of you doing that. I’ll sleep a lot better knowing you’re tucked away for the night.” She started to leave the room, then turned back. “In all these years, this is a first. I don’t believe you’ve ever stayed the night before.”
“Not that I recall. I promise not to make a habit of it.”
Jessie had had a lump in her burning throat all day and she was relieved to get home to her town house in Sausalito so she could let go and drain the emotions. Everyone expected her to be strong and she hadn’t let them down but she didn’t feel strong. She could act strong but sometimes it was so hard it made her just appear mean and cranky. She wasn’t sure what was harder on her—her father’s death or the fact that Jason hadn’t even called her to see if she was all right. She had called him, told him about her dad, told him what arrangements were being made and invited him to the celebration of life. He said he might have to work but he’d try. They had lived together for two years; he’d gotten close to her family! They broke up a year ago but it felt like only yesterday in her mind.
He had not come. He hadn’t sent flowers. And she was alone. So alone. Her brother had his girlfriend, Bess would prefer to be alone, her mother was exhausted and her grandmother barely knew what day it was and was safer with the ladies at the assisted living home. Jessie had no one. It had been a long time since she’d even had a really close girlfriend.
She threw herself on her bed and sobbed.
Successful medical doctors were not supposed to cry. So she thought; so she’d been told. She wanted to call Jason, but she didn’t want to hear his voice mail, and of everyone in her life he was the one who most wanted her to “roll with it.” He thought she was high-maintenance, always riled up about something.
Her poor father. She had no idea why he was so restless lately but she blamed her mother. Anna should have found a way to get to the bottom of whatever problem was troubling her dad; what if he was sick and keeping the fact private, suffering in silence? Anna should never have let him go on that stupid rafting trip!
Her cell phone chirped and she looked at the screen on the phone. Her heart nearly sang. It was Jason! She had longed for him the past few days; she’d left him a couple of messages and he texted his replies, but this was him!
“Hello,” she said thickly.
“Jess, how you doing?”
“I’m having a really hard time,” she said. “You didn’t even come to the celebration of life!”
“I’m sorry, Jess. We had an emergency. I was at the hospital until just a little while ago.”
“What kind of emergency?”
“Femur and lots of other things. Car accident.”
“Were you on call?”
“I was on call until noon, but the injury came in right as I was getting ready to leave so I handled it. It was pretty complicated and I wasn’t the only surgeon there. More than one of us was needed—head, spleen and femur. It was bad.”
“You could have at least called!”
“I’m calling you now!”
“You could have sent flowers or something.”
“I was going to come but I had an emergency!”
“I really needed you!”
“Jess! Stop or I’ll just hang up! You’re doing it again!”
She didn’t know why this happened to her, why she got so angry and defensive and caustic when all she wanted in the world was Jason’s soft, sweet voice, the one he used to calm patients and soothe their families. Better would be his arms around her, comforting her. She just wanted everything to be all right. She wanted to feel safe and protected and given a guarantee that nothing would fall apart.
“Sorry,” she said. “I’m just having such a hard time.”
“Listen, you should think about talking to someone. Sometimes you push people away. You have this damn short fuse and sometimes there’s no explanation for it. I told you I had to work. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you but we broke up. Remember? And why did we break up? Because I can’t deal with your temper. No one can ever do enough.”
“I said I was sorry! You’d think you could afford me a little extra patience since my father just died!”
There was silence. A long moment that stretched out. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Jessie. Find some support. I’ll check on you in a few weeks.”
“A few weeks? Can’t you even say, If there’s anything I can do...? Because I can think of about twenty things you could actually do! A few weeks? Where is the love, Jason? You could at least—”
But he was gone. She’d done it again. Some devil inside of her caused her to lash out and drive away any offer of affection. She always felt a little hungry, as if the portion she was fed was just not enough. If she had dinner with a friend, she’d want to go clubbing afterward, then maybe stop off for a nightcap, then make plans for the next night or at least the next weekend. Because it was never enough.
And now her dad, her hero, was gone and she didn’t know how she’d live without him. His love, his praise, sustained her. Her mother constantly let her down by being busy all the time. You’d think that Jessie, being one of three internists in a San Francisco office, would understand being busy, but then she didn’t have a husband and three children as well as a demanding job. Besides, Mike and Bess took up a lot of Anna’s attention and Jessie often felt left out. If she was honest, even if Anna gave Jessie all her attention, it might not be enough.
So she cried and cried. Why didn’t Jason come back to her, to love her and be devoted to her. She’d been so happy.
But had she? She couldn’t remember any longer. It seemed she’d been very happy but too briefly. Maybe she should talk to someone. And say what? That no one loved her? It was too bleak to even think about.
Anna thought the most difficult and grievous part of getting her life back on track was probably going through her husband’s personal belongings and letting them go. That, she thought, would dredge up feelings of loss and saying a painful goodbye, but through the whole process she was as dry as a bone. She dreaded the paperwork of becoming the single adult in a formerly coupled household—the death certificates mailed to everyone from the insurance carrier to the Department of Motor Vehicles, having the house put in her name alone and closing bank accounts.
She couldn’t have been more wrong. All of that took her a couple of weeks and the first of May was on the horizon. The worst part came as a complete surprise. Her attorney informed her, “The will you have in your possession is not Chad’s most recent will.”
“What?” she said, sure she had misheard him.
“Chad updated his will a few months ago and made a couple of changes.”
“Without saying anything to me?” she asked, gobsmacked.
“His changes don’t affect you monetarily.”
“Then what did he change?”
“I’d rather we do this in the office,” he said.
“Larry, come on! You’ve been our lawyer for thirty years! Spit it out!”
“He added a recipient but nothing you held jointly is affected in any way.”
“Who?”
“Anonymous for the time being, until said recipient chooses to reveal their identity.”
“A mistress!” she blurted.
“Not a mistress,” Larry said without missing a beat.
“He went behind my back and named some secret recipient? How could he do that?”
“He could leave his share of the estate to a house for homeless cats if he wanted to. As I said, this will not affect what you inherit, and in all fairness, you could have done the same thing. In fact, now that you’re a widow and on your own, you can do anything you want with your inheritance.”