Between Friends by Debbie Macomber (24)

Dearest Jillian,

No! I can’t, I won’t let you give up. You’re my dearest and best friend and I refuse to let you die at 54. You of all people know how stubborn I can get.

I should’ve been there before now. I should’ve known. This does it, and Steven agrees. My bags are already packed and Steven is buying me a plane ticket as we speak. I’m flying out tomorrow to be with you and I’m not leaving until you kick me out the door.

Do you remember when we were in Latin class and I just couldn’t seem to get the hang of those verbs? When it came to biology and chemistry, I was a whiz, but Latin was about to do me in. I wanted to give up and accept a C, but you refused to let me. For hours you drilled me, until I knew those verb conjugations as well as my own name. My dear, this is Latin class all over again, only this time I’m the one who’s going to stand by you.

We’re in this together. Cancer might have worn you down, but I’ll be there by your side, my arm around you. This is one monster we’re going to face together! Gary on one side and me on the other. As you said, you’ve been poked, pinched and prodded, and now you’re about to be pampered.

I should’ve come sooner, should have realized you needed me, but I know it now and I’m on my way.

January 15, 2002

Dearest Mom,

Happy Birthday! Will and I have some wonderful news we’ve been saving for your birthday. We’re going to make you a grandma. That’s right, I’m pregnant. Oh, Mom, you can’t imagine how excited Will is. Was Daddy like this when you told him you were pregnant with me? The way Will’s treating me, it’s as though I’m the only woman in the world who’s ever managed such a feat.

The baby is due the last week of August. You’ll be able to come to England, won’t you? I hate it that you’ve been so sick lately. You try to hide how dreadful this time has been, but I can read between the lines. Will and I hope that your first grandchild will give you something to look forward to.

We both love you very much. Oh, Mom, I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy or so in love.

Enjoy your gifts, book your ticket for August now and have a wonderful, wonderful birthday.

Will and Leni Jo

Riverside Clinic
258 West 81st St.
New York, NY 10024

Attention: Dr. Louise Novack

Dear Louise,

A note to apologize for my behavior during my last appointment on December 30th. I hope you can forgive my negative attitude. You’re right, cancer has its positive aspect in all the lessons it can teach us about ourselves.

In the past few weeks I’ve reconsidered and have decided to accept the next bout of treatments. It seems I’m to become a grandmother for the first time—and I have a very stubborn friend who insists on staying by my side. With this kind of incentive and support, I feel I must agree to these treatments.

Thank you for your patience with me.

Sincerely,
Jillian Lawton Gordon

March 1, 2002

Jillian,

A note on your pillow to tell you that you’re the bravest person I know.

Lesley

March 2, 2002

Lesley,

A note on your pillow to let you know you’re the craziest, funniest, most wonderful friend anyone has ever had. I can’t believe you shaved your hair off for me so we could be twins! Are you nuts??! Yes—and I love it. Thank you for being my best friend.

Jillian

July 3, 2002

Dearest Lesley,

I have wonderful news! The latest blood work shows that my platelet count is back to normal—and that’s the first time in almost two years. I won’t officially be in remission for a while, but it looks encouraging. Just a few months ago, I was willing to suspend all treatment, and you wouldn’t let me. I literally owe you my life.

I have another bit of news. Gary was by earlier this morning and he surprised me by announcing that he’s purchased a condominium in Boca Raton, Florida. He has family there and plans to move within the next couple of months. He asked me to marry him, which he’s done periodically over the years. He wants to teach me golf and take me sailing. He says the only reason he’s stayed in New York is me and frankly, he’s tired of waiting. It’s now or never.

I already know what you’re going to say. Marry him. I’d be a fool not to. Perhaps you’re right, but I can’t imagine leaving New York after all these years. Especially now, when the city needs support from the people who love it.

Gary loves me, I know he does, and here’s the real surprise. I love him, too. I never thought that what we shared would extend beyond friendship. I was so crazy about Nick and then Monty, I didn’t think it was in me to feel this intensely about another man.

I can already hear your next question. Why am I hesitating? Lesley, I don’t know. Am I so settled in my ways that I can’t deal with change? Am I a complete idiot? I just don’t know. I can’t bear the thought of losing Gary, and at the same time, I’m not sure another marriage is right for me, either.

If you have any pearls of wisdom to share, I’d greatly appreciate hearing them.

Love,
Jillian

July 15, 2002

Dearest Mom,

If you don’t marry him, I swear I’ll never speak to you again! All right, I will, but I’d forever think you a fool. Gary is the best thing to happen to you in years.

Enclosed is the latest ultrasound of your grandson. Isn’t he perfect? Will is walking on air. Blue is such a lovely color, isn’t it?

What do you think of the name Charles Leonard Chadsworth? It has a nice sound, don’t you think? I can hardly wait to see you. It shouldn’t be long now.

Love,
Will and Leni Jo

July 29, 2002

Dear Gary,

It hasn’t even been a month but I miss you so much. A dozen times I’ve started to call you—and then remembered you’re not at that number anymore. You no longer live in New York.

I don’t blame you for growing impatient with me. I can be a stubborn fool (as my daughter and my best friend have taken pains to point out). For the first two weeks, I waited for you to come to your senses and realize we belong together. It wasn’t until this morning that I saw I was the one being unreasonable.

All right, Gary, I’ll marry you, but I don’t know if I can live in Boca Raton all year. Can we compromise? Can we divide our time between there and New York?

I feel I should warn you, my love, that there are no guarantees with regard to my cancer. It could return. It already has once, as you’re well aware. But then you’re not looking for guarantees, are you? You want a wife. We’re both young enough to travel and for my part I intend to make frequent trips to London. Charles is going to know his grandma very well indeed.

I love you.

Jillian

Dearest Lesley,

Now that Gary and I are married, I don’t know why I held out for so long!

We delayed our trip to England until after the Cancer Walk this October; in fact, we’ve arranged our schedule around it. When I wrote you about the Walk, I was hoping you and Steven would be willing to sponsor me. I’m working hard at getting pledges from family and friends. What I didn’t expect was your refusal. I have to tell you that took me aback, I quickly figured out what you’re up to. You’re flying out here and doing the Walk with me, aren’t you? I love it! I couldn’t be more excited or pleased. It’s perfect. I’d never have survived this long journey without your love and friendship, and I’m not just talking about the cancer. You’re the type of friend who divides my grief and doubles my joy. How I treasure you and all the years we’ve shared.

Come anytime—the welcome mat is out. Gary and Steven can play chess in Central Park while you and I join thousands of other women who are cancer survivors.

The fact is, we’ve survived so much more and are the stronger for it. This is the best time of my life. I’m happy, Les, really happy—despite the sorrows I’ve experienced, with Nick’s death and Monty’s, with the devastating attack on New York, with my own illness. Or maybe because of all that. Grief makes us understand what truly matters in life, doesn’t it? Love, friendship, family. Being part of a community—and I’ve come to consider myself a New Yorker through and through. Memories... You and I have so many, and I hope we’ll be granted the time to make lots more.

I can’t wait to see you.

Love,
Jillian