Between Friends by Debbie Macomber (17)

January 1, 1986

Dear Nick and Daddy,

I’ll just bet you’re cheering up a storm in heaven, aren’t you, Daddy? There’s a Republican in the White House, inflation is down and there’s talk of eliminating the national debt by 1991! For the second time in my voting history, I chose to cast my ballot for the former Hollywood actor. So go ahead and gloat!

This is going to be an exciting year. Lesley and I are attending our twenty-year class reunion in July, and Lindy will be graduating from high school. Since I’m her official godmother, I plan to be at the graduation exercise and I’ll sit proudly beside Lesley. The dates are already written in my schedule, which I’m finding more and more crowded since I was elected to the bench last year.

Nick, I’m sure Dad is being a real bore about that. You’ll need to forgive him for being embarrassingly smug about his daughter, the judge. Dad knew, I swear he did, from the time I was three years old, that I’d follow in his footsteps.

Leni Jo is the smartest seven-year-old in her second-grade class. She’s already reading at fifth-grade level. Monty and I have resisted placing her in an advanced schooling program because we prefer that she socialize with children her own age. We take pains to make sure she’s intellectually stimulated both inside and outside the classroom. I’m still struggling with the conflict between the obligations of motherhood and career. I haven’t found any easy solutions—only compromises.

Monty’s law career is still going well. Last November he was approached about becoming a full partner. The heart attack in December of 1982 frightened us both. I have no desire to be a widow, and Monty doesn’t intend to make me one any time soon. I’m grateful to report that as of last February, he is physically fit with a normal cholesterol count. Whether or not he accepts a partnership with the Beckham firm is completely up to him. I’ll support his decision either way. If he says yes, then I’ll cheer him on just as enthusiastically as he encouraged me when I entered the race for Superior Court Judge.

I’m more in love with my husband every year. Monty and I have a good life. This isn’t the passionate love I shared with you, Nick, but a mature love, one that developed slowly and steadily.

Now that Leni Jo is a bit older, we feel more comfortable leaving her with Mother and when our schedules allow, Monty and I enjoy traveling. Mom is in her glory when she can spend “quality time” with Leni Jo—that’s a catch phrase of the ’80s!

I’ve come to believe that our daughter has given Mom’s life new purpose. She’s incredible, Dad. When we were in Pine Ridge last summer, she decided it was time Leni Jo learned how to swim—and decided to teach her at the Country Club pool. Before she knew it, Mom had a whole class of six-and seven-year-olds. I think it’s wonderful. Leni Jo talks to her on the phone every weekend and misses her terribly. I’m so grateful they had three weeks together this summer.

I was only able to see Lesley once this year, but we’re as close as we ever were. She hasn’t heard a word from Buck in almost four years. No real loss there. The last time he wrote, he was still in Alaska—in jail for reckless driving, reckless endangerment and driving while under the influence. I understand there are also a whole slew of property damage claims against him. As far as I’m concerned, she’s better off not hearing from him, and so are the children.

David is attending classes at Pine Ridge Community College and working part-time for a computer store. He loves his job and apparently the owner relies on him quite a bit. He told me recently that he’d like to design software. I’m not entirely sure what that means, but then I barely even know how to operate a computer. They certainly seem to be taking over the world, though. Monty swears by his and claims it won’t be long before every home has one. That’ll be the day! I remember when everyone told us we’d have settlements on the moon by the year 2000. It isn’t going to happen. Space travel isn’t for me, and neither are computers.

Sometime this month the Challenger is lifting off with the first private citizen aboard. A schoolteacher was chosen. Needless to say, I didn’t apply, but what an experience. Christa McAuliffe will have a lot to share with her students when she returns.

Now that interest rates have fallen, Jim and Angie bought a house. (I don’t think we can totally attribute lower interest rates to a Republican White House, Dad!) Lesley and the kids have been in their house for almost four years. It took her so long to buy a home of her own (other than the trailer) that she takes care of it as though it were one of her children. The yard is immaculate and the inside is decorated in a charming country style that is so Lesley.

Yes, life is good and I’m happy. Every year seems better than the one before. Monty and I have given up hoping for another child. I’ll be thirty-eight in a few days and Monty is fifty-six, but that makes us all the more grateful for Leni Jo.

Remember how much I love you both.

Jillian

January 5, 1986

My dearest children,

Jillian, I’m considering a major decision and I want to discuss it with you before I proceed further. I’d like to list the house with a real estate broker.

When the John L. Scott representative came today for what he called a “walk-through” he told me the house was worth over $200,000. Can you imagine? He suggested I list it at a slightly higher price to leave room for negotiations. My goodness, I nearly wet my drawers when he said what we could get for it. I didn’t dare tell him that your father and I paid only $15,000 for it back in 1947.

I suspect you’re asking yourself why I’d want to sell the house now. First and foremost, it seems ridiculous to heat 3,000 square feet for just one person. The place is just too big for me. My friends told me not to make any major decisions the year following your father’s death. I doubt that I could have, but it’s been almost eight years and I’m finally ready.

Jillian, I can hear you asking me where I intend to move. This might come as a surprise, but I’m seriously thinking about New York City. Manhattan in particular. To be a bit more specific—an apartment within walking distance of you.

Having Leni Jo with me for three weeks this summer is what prompted this. She’s the joy of my life. The house seemed so dull and empty without her. The sound of her laughter faded from these rooms far too quickly.

Now, I don’t want you to worry that I’ll intrude on you and Montgomery. I intend to maintain my privacy and will respect yours. I trust you know me well enough to realize that.

I hope to hear back from you soon so I can make my plans. If you have any objections, I do hope you’ll be honest enough to tell me now.

I love you all.

Mom

February 10, 1986

Dear Mr. Montgomery Gordon,

The results of your blood work are back, following your annual examination with Dr. Lyman. Your cholesterol count is 190. We look forward to seeing you again next year.

Sincerely,
Joan McMahon, R.N.

March 3, 1986

Grandma Lawton,

I’m glad your house sold and you’re moving to New York. There’s an apartment for sale in our building. It’s on the fifth floor. We live on the tenth floor. I could take the elevator down to your apartment and you could take it up to see me.

Love,
Leni Jo Gordon

April 1, 1986

Dearest Jillian,

There’s a reason I chose to write on April Fool’s Day, and that’s because I feel like a fool. While sorting through the laundry this afternoon, I found a package of birth control pills in Lindy’s sweater pocket. She apparently got them at the Planned Parenthood Clinic behind my back.

Well, I suppose I don’t feel so much a fool as a coward. I should have confronted her immediately, but I didn’t. Instead I poured myself a glass of iced tea, sat down and cried. My daughter has lost her innocence—and it isn’t just her virginity I’m referring to. She’s sexually involved with a young man I barely know and she’s unwilling to discuss her situation with me. She’s dating Carl Kennedy and as far as I can discern he’s a decent enough young man. But the thought of them having sex just freezes my blood.

Buck and I were sexually active my senior year, but the memories are not happy ones. As a result I ended up pregnant with David. I love each of my children—but not one of the four was planned. Buck wouldn’t allow me to take the pill and at the time I was struggling to be a good wife and a good Catholic. I sometimes think I failed on both counts.

I wish Lindy had waited for the right man and the right time. I long to tell my daughter these things but I won’t. I can’t find the words. The pill might prevent a pregnancy, but sex won’t give her the love she craves, or whatever else she’s seeking. It will only complicate her life and possibly her future. Carl isn’t any more ready for a committed relationship than Buck was at his age. Or me for that matter.

The first few years Buck and I were married, and for a long time afterward, I lived in denial. I became accustomed to ignoring ugly or difficult situations—like this one with Lindy. I was afraid to confront him the same way I’m afraid to confront my daughter. Because once the reality is acknowledged, you have to do something about it. I can remember nights when Buck would come home reeking of another woman’s cologne. Although he disgusted me, I’d pretend not to notice. I got so good at that. So good at turning a blind eye to the truth, because the truth was just too damn painful. Now I’m doing it again, only this time my eyes are wide open and it isn’t Buck I’m dealing with but our daughter.

As you know, Lindy has always been a difficult child. She was a problem even before she became a teenager. Even though there’s been a slight improvement in her attitude in the past couple of years, she seems to think she can do whatever she wants. But she’s still a child, still living in my home. Living under my rules and under my protection. And Jillian, I do long to protect her. Which means I’d have to insist she own up to what she’s doing—but I’m afraid of the consequences of a confrontation. Just like I was with Buck...

What should I do? Confront her, no matter how hard that is, or ignore what I found? Risk having her walk out or put up with behavior I find appalling?

What do you say, oh wise and trusted friend? How should I handle this one?

On a totally separate subject, I talked to your mother this week and learned she put down earnest money on an apartment five floors below yours. My fear is that once she moves to New York, you won’t be as inclined to visit Pine Ridge. Jillian, if only you knew how much your visits mean to me! I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have that time to look forward to.

I have some good news. Mom and Eric bought a Winnebago. They invited the boys to join them for a short trip this summer during the week of our class reunion. They’ll drive down to Susan and Bill’s place in Sacramento and stay there for a few days. You can’t imagine how excited Doug and Christopher are. Doug will be sixteen in August and he thinks Eric might let him do some of the driving. Fat chance! Christopher thinks he might be able to persuade them to head from Sacramento to Disneyland. More power to him if he succeeds.

I’m sorry I got so long-winded, but this thing with Lindy really upsets me. She’s too young to be having sex. I don’t want her to repeat my mistakes and my mother’s, as well. I don’t just mean the teenage pregnancy—thank God for the pill. But the tendency to get trapped in a marriage or a relationship that will stifle her at best, destroy her at worst. I want so much more for her!

Write me soon.

Lesley

March 1, 1986

Mom,

You’re being completely unreasonable. You leave me no choice but to move out of the house. I’m staying with Shannon and her parents until Carl and I can find a place of our own.

I am not a child and I refuse to let you treat me like one.

Lindy

May 7, 1986

Dear Lindy,

The choice to leave home was yours. I told you this when you left and I’ll say it again: you’re welcome back at any time as long as you’re willing to abide by my rules. Despite what you think, I’m sorry Carl broke up with you. Sweetheart, trust me, I know how much it hurts to have the person you love dump you for someone else.

I really miss you, and the boys miss their sister. Come home and we’ll talk again without the anger and the threats. I think we’ve both learned a valuable lesson.

I love you.

Mom

June 10, 1986

Dear Mom,

I’m writing because I want to thank you for everything. I hated it when I was away from home. I thought you were being unreasonable and stupid to demand that I break up with Carl. But I was the stupid one. You never even asked for an apology for all the ugly things I said.

I do want to apologize, though. I’m sorry, Mom. You were right about Carl. I would never have been able to graduate if it wasn’t for everything you did to help me catch up with my schoolwork. I feel so much better now that I’m home.

I waited until after graduation to apologize because I didn’t want us to get all emotional. I know forcing me to make a decision was hard for you. You might not think I mean this, but I’m glad you stuck to your guns. You’re right, I was hoping Carl would marry me. I thought we’d run away to Reno or someplace like that but he wasn’t interested, and after a few days I knew neither one of us was ready. I’d prefer to marry David Cassidy, anyway. PSYCH!

I was pretty upset when I left, but I appreciate that you gave me the freedom to make my own choices, right or wrong. I learned a lot about myself while I was with Shannon and her family. I always thought it was great that her parents let her do anything she wanted, but when I was living with her I realized that what seems good from the outside often isn’t good at all.

I had a great party after the graduation ceremony. Thanks, Mom. I wish Dad could’ve been here, but I learned a long time ago that I can’t depend on my father. Still, if I could change anything about graduation, it would be having Dad there. Do you think he got the invitation? Probably not, seeing that the last address we had for him was the jail.

Love,
Lindy

July 8, 1986

Dearest Lesley,

I know this is short notice but I’m not going to make it to the reunion. Monty hasn’t been feeling well. He insisted I buy the airline tickets, but I told him I wasn’t going anywhere until he saw Dr. Lyman. He went in last week and the test results are back.

Monty has cancer. Even as I write the word my hand is shaking. I’ve never been more terrified. My husband has cancer. Oh, Lesley, I don’t think I can bear this. Monty is confident that everything will be fine. I’m not.

I remember the first week I didn’t get a letter from Nick when he was in Vietnam. A terrified sensation came over me at the absence of his letter—a premonition, I later realized. I have that same feeling now. Dear God, I hope I’m wrong. I don’t know what I’d do without Monty. Haven’t I lost enough already?

Please pray for us, Lesley. You’re so much closer to God than I am. He’ll heed your prayers far more than He will mine.

Mom has been wonderful through all of this. She immediately took charge, sat me down and made us both a cup of tea. Then she chatted on about medical advances these days and how I’m probably panicking for no reason. By the time she left, she had me believing that Monty’s surgery will be no more serious than having a mole removed. It’ll be followed by a series of chemotherapy treatments.

The surgery’s scheduled for the Wednesday before the reunion. I won’t leave him. I know you understand, but oh, Lesley, I will so miss seeing you.

Please, please keep us in your prayers. I don’t want to lose my husband.

Jillian

Dear Daddy,

Get well soon. I drew the picture of the flowers for you. I love you.

Leni Jo

July 21, 1986

The reunion was wonderful, although it seemed odd being there without a husband or a date. I was a little intimidated at first, but as soon as I arrived, I started talking to my classmates and before long I forgot I was alone. It really didn’t make any difference.

As luck would have it, one of the first people I bumped into was Dr. Roy Kloster. His wife, the other Dr. Kloster, is pregnant with their third child and they looked blissfully happy. Roy introduced me as his high school heartthrob.

Bob Daniels asked me where Buck is. I told him his guess was as good as mine. I didn’t pursue the matter because I had the sinking feeling that Buck owes him money. Bob tried to flirt with me, but I’ve never liked him and quickly made an excuse to talk to someone else.

A lot of people wondered about Jillian. She was missed. Unfortunately, the news about Monty isn’t good. The surgery was a success, but his colon was full of cancer and it’s spread to several of his organs. The surgeon removed what he could and as soon as Monty’s recovered his strength, he’ll undergo both chemotherapy and radiation treatments. Naturally Jillian is worried. She said she knew this was going to be bad and she was right. How I wish I could be with her.

Despite my constant worry about them, I managed to have a good time. Several people asked me who I’m dating or if I’m available. I wasn’t sure how to answer. This whole dating scene unnerves me. There’s only been one man in my life. After Buck, I was terrified of getting involved again. I’ve definitely been scarred by my marriage. Anyway, taking care of my children is what’s most important right now. I am certainly capable of living my life without a man. I’ve proved that from the beginning. I could never rely on Buck.

When my former classmates pressed me about the dating issue, I told them I preferred the quiet life. Quiet? Not likely! I have four children at home, three of them teenagers. People who believe my life is serene would probably fall for any outlandish sales pitch!

If I were to get married again, I’d want a man like Jillian’s Monty. Or Jillian’s dad. Or Dr. Milton, who’s sane, sensible and happily married. Or Susan’s husband, Bill. (See? They do exist!)

I refuse to think about Cole Greenberg. I built a fantasy around him and I have absolutely no idea what the real man is like.

All in all, the reunion was wonderful, but I missed Jillian.

August 15, 1986

Dear God,

Let’s make a deal. Save my husband and I’ll start attending Mass again. I’ll sing in the choir. Become a lay minister, feed the hungry, do anything else You ask of me.

Please Lord, let Monty’s body respond positively to all these horrible treatments. Don’t let him be this sick when there’s no hope.

Cure him, Lord. I believe in miracles. Perform one now.

Sincerely,
Jillian Gordon

September 16, 1986

Dear Daddy,

Mommy said I can’t go to the hospital to visit you. I think the rules are wrong. I want to see you. I hope you’re feeling lots better. Grandma took me to the Park and we saw a dog. Can I have a dog soon? I want to name him Blackie.

Love,
Leni Jo

October 12, 1986

Dear Lesley,

To celebrate your eight years of dedicated service, I’m giving you one week’s extra vacation. Gloria and I know that your friend in New York is going through a very rough period just now. As a thank-you for all you’ve done for my office, Gloria and I would also like to give you this airline ticket to New York.

Sincerely,
Dr. Steven Milton, OB-GYN
And Gloria Milton

November 7, 1986

Dear Judge Jillian Gordon,

I’m sorry I haven’t been in the office to personally return your phone call. Perhaps that worked out for the best because it’s given me time to think over your difficult question.

Although I was Montgomery’s primary physician before the cancer surgery, I am only one member of the medical team that is currently treating him. I understand the cancer hasn’t responded as we’d hoped to the chemotherapy and radiation. I’m very sorry to hear that. I was able to check with my colleagues and learned that Montgomery has refused any further treatments. I concur with his decision.

Now to your question. No, I can’t persuade him to continue. Nor do I recommend any type of experimental treatment available in other countries. I can understand how painful this is for you. Unfortunately it is too late. Your husband wants to die with dignity. My suggestion is that you call a Hospice team and take him home.

With deepest regrets,
Dr. Larry Lyman, MD