Jenna
Resolution: determination to do something
or not do something
“Can I get you anything else?” Greg hovered over her like a drone. “More soup? Another drink? Painkillers?”
“I’m fine.” Truthfully she wasn’t fine. She felt exhausted. The doctor had said that was normal, but she was worried about taking so much time off from work. Lindsey Hanks, one of the other teachers, was covering her class but she knew how much stress that would cause. “Maybe I can go back to work Monday.”
“No way. You had surgery and spent five days in hospital. I saw Jed Andrews this morning when I went to fill your prescription, and he gave me a vivid description of how they had to cut you out of the car. You could have been killed.”
“But I wasn’t.”
The doorbell rang and Greg went to answer it.
He returned with armfuls of flowers and a stack of cards.
Jenna opened them one by one, tears in her eyes.
To Mrs. Sullivan. You are the best teecher. Come back soon.
Mrs. Sullivan, we miss you. Miss Hanks shouts more.
Mrs. Sullivan, sorry you broke your car.
There were paintings, heavy on the glitter and glue, and she examined each one carefully, imagining the children sitting quietly, their little faces set in concentration as they splashed paint and sprinkled glitter.
A painting session was not for the fainthearted. She made a mental note to thank Lindsey Hanks.
“They love you.” Greg moved the cards carefully and sat down on the bed. “I saw Lindsey in the store yesterday and she said they’re making you a class video.”
“I love them, too.”
Maybe it would be enough, she thought. She could shower other people’s children with love. Be the best teacher ever. At least that way she was making a difference.
“I keep thinking about you rolling the car.” Greg’s voice was hoarse. “It’s giving me nightmares.”
“Me, too. It wasn’t my finest moment. I’d be a terrible getaway driver.” She tried to make a joke, but he didn’t laugh.
“The fact that you called your mom and not me wasn’t my finest moment either.”
She’d hurt his feelings. “Everyone wants their mom when they’re sick or injured.”
“You don’t. You’ve never had that kind of relationship with her.”
“We do now. We’re getting along well.” She’d never be able to describe the feeling she’d had when her mother had rushed into the emergency room to be by her side. That gesture of love and support had been everything she’d needed.
“A few months ago you would have called me the moment you did that test. You would have talked to me, instead of driving to some lonely spot on the beach road to suffer on your own.” He was pale. “Getting that call from your mother was bad, but seeing you in that hospital gown with all those tubes and doctors round you was the worst moment of my life.”
“I planned to call you with the good news of my pregnancy, but when there wasn’t one—” Her voice wobbled. “I’m sorry. I should have called, but you were so mad at me.”
“I wasn’t mad at you. I was mad at myself.”
“You were upset that I didn’t tell you about seeing my dad when I was young, and you were tired of me being fixated on babies. And I don’t blame you.”
“That isn’t what was going on, Jenna.”
She felt exhausted. Too tired for the conversation she knew they should be having. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters. I was hurt that you didn’t tell me about your dad, that’s true. It was such a big deal for you and your sister, I couldn’t understand how you could have kept it from me. Don’t—” He pressed his fingers to her lips when she tried to speak. “Let me say this. I was afraid that what happened to you had something to do with the reason you chose me.”
“It did.” She saw his expression change and grabbed his hand. “Please listen! I loved my dad, but I never trusted him after that night. Even though I didn’t know he had other affairs, maybe some part of me knew that if he’d done it once he could do it again. I didn’t want that. I wanted a man I could trust. You were that man.”
“You’ve only ever been with me.” He slid his fingers under her chin and tilted her face. “Was it because you were too scared to spread your wings?”
“The reason I’ve only been with you is because you’re the only man I ever wanted. I was with you because I loved you. And I’m with you now because I love you. I always knew you were nothing like my father.”
He bent his head and kissed her. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made you feel you couldn’t talk to me.” He spoke between kisses. “I don’t ever want you to feel that way again. There’s nothing we can’t talk about.”
“I know.” She put her arms round his neck. “And I’m going to stop being boring and fixated on babies and pregnancy.” Somehow, she had to. She knew she’d never forget how low she’d felt when she’d done that test. “I know you don’t want a baby as badly as I do—”
“That’s not true.” Greg took her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “I want a baby every bit as much as you do.”
“It doesn’t seem that way.”
He stared down at their joined hands. “Don’t you get it?” His voice was husky. “I love you, too. I loved you before I was even old enough to understand what the word meant. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy, Jenna. I want to make you happy. But I can’t give you the one thing you want most. How do you think that makes me feel?”
She stared at him.
It hadn’t occurred to her that he might be thinking that way.
“You told me you were tired of baby sex.”
“Because every time we have sex and we don’t make a baby, I feel like a failure. It’s hard to keep trying at something if you’re always failing.”
Jenna felt hot tears sting her eyes. “It isn’t your fault. It isn’t failure.”
“It feels that way to me. And I haven’t been handling it well.” He gave a faint smile. “I’m used to being top of the class, remember? I have to win at everything. Even in my job, I have to be the best.” There was a self-derision there that she hadn’t heard before. Greg was a winner. The golden boy.
“You’re good at what you do, Greg. You’ve made a huge difference to many people’s lives.”
“I’m fine at handling other people’s life problems, but not so good at my own it seems. With my wife, who is the most important person in my life, I’ve been inept. The truth is—” he paused “—I’ve discovered that I can be detached with everyone except myself. Every time you have a negative test I drive by the gym and take it out on the punching bag.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. It’s my kind of therapy. The gym has had to replace it twice in the last year.”
She’d had no idea. “Why didn’t you say something before now?”
“Because I was trying to be your rock. Steady. I thought if you knew how bad I felt, that would make you feel worse.”
“Oh, Greg—” She’d taken his answers at face value when she should have delved deeper. But because this was Greg, and he was so good at articulating feelings, it hadn’t occurred to her that there were things going on that he wasn’t saying. “Whenever I asked how you felt about it, you said you were okay.”
“I lied. It doesn’t matter now. That’s the past and we should be focusing on the future. On what comes next.” He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Next time you do a test, I want to know. We’ll do it together.”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever do another test again. The g-force of being on a high and then plunging to the pits of despair might kill me.”
“I love you.” He let go of her hand and wrapped her in his arms, holding her tightly. “You’re my love and my life. I love you so much and I wish I could fix this.”
It was such an unspeakable relief to be held. Such a relief to feel close to him again. It felt right and natural.
“You’re my life, too. We’re lucky to have each other.” She tugged at the buttons on his shirt. “I missed you when I was in hospital. Come to bed.”
He groaned as she kissed her way from his jaw to his mouth. “Jenna, we can’t. You’re tired and in pain.”
“So you’ll have to be extra gentle.”
“No way.” He caught her hands in his. “It’s too soon. When that doctor asks me why your stitches have opened up, I’m not taking the blame.”
She grinned. “You’re no fun, Greg Sullivan.”
“Take a couple more days to recover and then I’ll show you just how much fun I can be.”
Happiness: feeling, showing or expressing joy.
Jenna and Greg.
They were going to be all right. Somehow, in some way, they’d find a way to be all right.
He eased her away from him. “We’ll see a doctor. Talk to someone. I’m sorry I didn’t agree to it before.”
The doorbell rang and Greg raised an eyebrow. “Now are you pleased we’re not both naked?”
“In fact, no. But since we’re both decent, you might as well answer it.”
He stood up reluctantly. “If it’s another delivery of cards and chocolates we’re going to have to move house.”
But it wasn’t chocolate.
She heard voices and laughter and moments later Nancy, Lauren and Mack crowded into her bedroom.
Lauren was wearing her hair loose. She looked younger and more relaxed. She was holding a massive bouquet and Nancy had an envelope in her hand.
“Gorgeous flowers,” Jenna said, “but you shouldn’t be wasting our limited funds on flowers. I still have the last bunch you brought me.”
“These are from Mrs. Hill’s garden.”
Jenna raised her eyebrows. “You didn’t—”
“Not this time,” Lauren laughed. “Ben works for her, and he picked them with her permission because we know how much you love flowers. Everyone I pass asks after you. Every trip to the store takes five times as long.” She glanced at the cards open on the table and then back at her sister. “How are you? You have a little more color.”
“I’m better, thanks.” Much better since her conversation with Greg.
She still had no idea what she was going to do about getting pregnant, but at least they were talking again.
Greg cleared a pile of books off a chair. “Sit down wherever you can find a space. I’ll make some drinks.”
Nancy handed Jenna the envelope. “This is to give you something to look forward to when you’re better.”
Jenna opened it while marveling at the novelty of having her entire family crowded into her bedroom. “Seasalt Spa?” She studied the embossed card with its lavish silvery print. “Is that the new place near Chilmark?”
“Yes, and we’re going together, the four of us. We deserve it after all the work we’ve put in over the past few months. Manicure, pedicure—it’s a makeover.” Nancy made it sound as if it was something she did every day of the week, but Jenna couldn’t remember a time when her mother had done anything like this for herself.
“You can’t afford this!”
“I sold a painting,” Nancy said. “Which surprised me, to be honest.”
“It didn’t surprise me.” Lauren leaned in and adjusted Jenna’s pillows. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, I’m good, thanks. Stop fussing.” But it felt good to be surrounded by people who cared. “Which painting did you sell?”
“The stormy, moody seascape that used to hang in the master bedroom.”
“I know the one you mean.” Jenna put the vouchers on her lap. “That painting always terrified me. It’s so—pessimistic.”
“Yes, but fortunately for us, pessimism is selling right now and if people want dismal on their wall, who are we to argue with them?”
Jenna fingered the glossy voucher on her lap. “If you made money, then you should keep it. You’ll need the savings to get you through the winter in The Captain’s House.”
“Some things are more important than savings. We’ve all had a grim year so far. It’s time we had some fun as a family. We deserve some joy.”
When had they last had fun together?
Jenna couldn’t remember.
“So now you know there’s a market for your work, will you start painting again?”
“I’m enjoying creating art in different ways, particularly the gardens. Ben and I have some exciting ideas for transforming the garden of the Sail Loft. But the priority is to focus on our new design business, Coastal Chic. Lauren has an appointment at the bank to talk about a loan, and then we’re on our way. I’ll be helping her! It’s exciting to have a new outlet for creativity. Mack can help out when she’s not at school. Has Jenna seen the business card? Lauren, do you have one?”
Jenna shifted position in the bed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her mother this fired up about anything. She wondered if she was the only one who had noticed that Ben’s name came up frequently in conversation. “You have a business card?”
Lauren dug her hand into her purse and produced one. “Mack made them. Designed the logo and everything.”
Jenna took the card from her. “‘Coastal Chic,’” she read. “I love it. And the silver shell logo is perfect. Classy. I’d employ you in a heartbeat.”
Mack flushed with pleasure. “I love coding, but I also love the design side of things.”
“Which is why the website for The Captain’s House looks so good,” Nancy said. “Have you seen the design for the pages you wrote, Jenna? Mack has managed to put a whaling ship in the background behind the text. It looks fabulous. Maybe we could set up a property rental business, too.”
Lauren looked alarmed. “One thing at a time, Mom.”
But Jenna was relieved to see the excitement on her mother’s face. “I’ll take a look at the website later.”
“What are these?” Nancy picked up the sketches by Jenna’s bed.
“Those?” Jenna wished she’d hidden them. “Those are my feeble attempts at drawing. I have no talent.”
Nancy sat down on the edge of the bed and studied it. “Is it a pig?”
“It’s a goat. See what I mean? I should give up.” She made a grab for the pages but Nancy held them out of reach as she flicked through the text.
“Adventures with My Sister. You wrote down one of your stories?”
Jenna felt her cheeks burn. “I’ve been writing down a few of them. Some of the parents in my class wanted them to read to the children so I thought I might as well. I haven’t decided what to do with it yet.”
Mack peered over her shoulder. “My favorite was the one when the two sisters disrupted the ballet class.” She took the papers from her grandmother, kicked off her shoes and sprawled on the bed next to Jenna. “Your stories are great. Remember Fred and Alfred? Fred and Alfred were hilarious. And the dinosaur who was a fussy eater. Are you going to write them all down?”
“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it.”
“You should.” Lauren sat on the bed, too, and Jenna shifted gingerly to make room.
It seemed her entire family was now on the bed with her, crowded either side of her like bookends.
Greg walked back into the room and she met his gaze.
The worried frown on his face made her heart warm. “Mom is seeing if she can rescue my terrible drawing. Or maybe it would be easier if I changed the goat in the story to a pig.”
“You have talent. I’ve always said so.” He put a mug of tea on the nightstand next to her.
“She has.” Nancy was reading over Mack’s shoulder. “Why haven’t any of us encouraged you to write them down before? These are engaging, funny, emotional. You make the reader care about these girls.”
Jenna felt herself flush. “Thanks, Mom. Shame I can’t illustrate to save my life.”
“You don’t need to be able to do both.” Nancy took the pages back from Mack. “They can partner you with an illustrator.”
“They?”
“A publisher.”
“You think someone might want to publish my stories?”
“I do. I know there are plenty of children out there who would enjoy them.” Nancy turned the pages over and picked up the pencil. “I’ve never drawn a goat either.” She sketched rapidly, eyes narrowed, her hand free and relaxed. Then she laughed. “Yours might look like a pig but mine looks like a unicorn.”
Mack leaned over her shoulder and studied it from every angle. “It’s not completely awful, Grams.”
“Thank you, honey. You’re so kind.”
Mack grinned. “We’re all about honesty now, remember?”
“I do. And I approve. Also, I agree. I don’t think I’m going to be illustrating your aunt’s books, but let me think about it. It’s a different art form. It isn’t as simple as drawing an excellent goat, it’s about conveying the movement, the naughtiness, the sense of adventure. The two girls getting themselves into trouble and then getting themselves out. Always together. That closeness has to be on the page.” She eyed Jenna and then Lauren. “Was this Mrs. Fallowfield’s goat?”
Jenna shrank against the pillows and Lauren blinked innocently.
“We have no idea what you mean, Mom.”
Nancy shook her head. “I’m not even going to ask how many of these stories are true. Instead let’s return to plans for our spa day—it’s safer. Let us know when you’re feeling stronger, and I’ll book a date.”
Greg eased himself away from the wall where he’d been leaning. “Jenna needs to keep things quiet for a while.”
“Greg the dragon.” Lauren smiled her approval. “Protector of my sister.”
“Don’t ask me to draw a dragon,” Jenna said.
Pain nagged at her side and she shifted slightly to make herself more comfortable.
Greg frowned. “Do you want meds?”
“No, but thank you.” She loved the fact he was so protective. For a short time they’d lost that closeness and now it was back. Love could be intense and passionate, but it could also be warming and comforting, like curling up in front of a log fire with a mug of hot chocolate.
She glanced at her sister. “So when do you move in to the Sail Loft?”
“Next week. We need time for the smell of paint to fade.”
“I can’t believe it’s the middle of May already.” It felt strange to think of them living there. “Will you be okay, Mom?”
“Yes. I have my final book group at The Captain’s House the night before we move out. After that, someone else will have to host it if the group is to continue.” Nancy stood up and walked to the window. “I’ve been in charge of canapés and conversation for far too long.” She gazed down into Jenna’s garden.
“You’re going to miss having Alice for a neighbor. She’s been such a great friend to you. Still, it’s not as if you’re leaving the island,” Jenna said. “It’s going to be a big change for you, Mom.”
Was this change going to be too much? Impossibly hard?
Nancy turned. “Sometimes change can be good. Out with the old and in with the new—that’s what I say.”
Jenna gaped at her. “You don’t say that at all! You always say, ‘Let’s store it for now. You never know when you might need it.’”
“I never liked throwing anything away, but it turns out I have a skill for it. I can be ruthless when I need to be.”
Jenna exchanged looks with Lauren. “I think I might have banged my head harder than I first thought. I could have sworn I heard Mom say she likes throwing things away.”
Lauren stretched her legs out and lay back next to Jenna. “I suspect she might have banged her head and none of us noticed. I don’t want to panic you, but she also took the entire contents of Dad’s hobby room to the Goodwill store.”
Jenna wanted to cheer.
Instead she glanced at Greg. “Honey, could you please explain to us less qualified mortals what is happening to my mother?”
“No idea. I’ve given up presenting myself an expert on emotions. And if you’re going to be planning spa days, I’m going to need more coffee.” He kissed Jenna and walked to the kitchen.
Jenna watched him go. Then she caught her mother’s eye. She thought about that conversation in the hospital, and how her mother had listened. “Before you say anything, I know I’m lucky to have him.”
“I was going to say that he’s lucky to have you,” Nancy said. “Now, about this spa day. What exactly do they do during a facial? It isn’t Botox, is it? I don’t think I’d like Botox. I want my face to move.”