What She Left Us (35 page)

"Damn
tattoo."

She
didn't know if she would keep the tattoo or get it covered up, or maybe she
would get rid of it. It was a reminder of Darren, but maybe as time went on,
she could imagine that it was just a heart, and everybody has a heart, right?
Everyone deserves love, and if she could imagine that's what her tattoo represented,
the simplicity of love, then maybe it could stay.

She
took one final turn and there it was, Carina's. Her heart began to quicken
again, but for different reasons. She was nervous, and excited and scared. She
was hoping for wonderful things.

She
was hoping for Clay.

Jenna
pulled into Carina's, parked the car and got out. There were four cars in the
small lot. None of them belonged to Clay.

"Please,
please, please," she said to no one in particular.

At
the front door, she took a deep breath. Then she opened it and even though the
smells of fresh bread and pies filled the air, it did not calm her queasy stomach.

A
hostess greeted her at the front, looking fresh-faced and expectant and so
young. Behind her, she saw Carina in a wheel chair, with her leg propped up.
Jenna smiled at her, sure she wouldn't remember her.

"How
many?" the hostess asked.

"Oh,
I'm here for… I'm looking for Clay."

Carina
rolled the wheelchair over to her. "Jenna, right?"

She
was surprised she had remembered her. "Yes, how are you? You broke your
leg?"

"Yep,
slipped and fell on some damn ice. You looking for Clay?" Carina asked.
"Or did you come for lunch this time?"

Jenna
looked around the small restaurant. She didn't want to be rude and say no, so
she said, "I needed to talk to Clay first, actually."

"He's
out back. Do you want to wait? I can have someone get you some tea? I think he
went to grab some ice in the freezer," Carina offered.

"Oh,
that's okay, I'll come back later." Jenna smiled and turned to go.

Outside,
she exhaled. Jenna willed her heart to slow down. "Be calm, be calm,"
she said aloud. But she knew she wasn't going to leave without finding Clay.

To
her right, around the back of Carina's she saw what looked like a shed and
imagined that must be where they kept the freezer. She rushed toward the shed and
saw the door was open a few inches. She took a breath and yanked the heavy door
open wide. The shed smelled like freshly fallen snow mixed with something a bit
stale, but also it smelled of crushed blackberries. It was dark inside and she
had to blink a few times for her eyes to adjust from the sunlight outside, but
then she saw him. He was leaning into a large industrial freezer, his back to
her, reaching down to grab something.

"I'll
be right in!" he said. "Go back, it's freezing out here."

She
exhaled, heart pounding.

"Clay?"

She
could see that he tensed up, but he didn't move.

And
she didn't move. Because him not moving was a signal that she couldn't read.
Was he mad that she was here? It felt like forever. Waiting. She was cold, and
her heart was pulsing in her ears and all she wanted to do was go to him and
have him hold her but she couldn't make another move. It was almost like a
stand-off. The waiting… waiting to see what would happen next.

Finally
he lowered the bag of ice he had been holding and turned to look at her.

"How'd
you know I was here?"

"The
bartender, Patrick, he told me."

"So
you know?"

"Know
what?"

"Why
I'm here?"

"You're
helping Carina because she broke her leg."

He
moved toward Jenna now, slowly, his eyes focused completely on her, and it was
as if nothing else in the world mattered. Yes, she had lost her mother and
grieved the loss every day, and yes, she had been dealing with a
life-threatening disease. She and her sister had had the shock of their lives,
something that could have torn them apart if their relationship wasn't as
strong as it was. Jenna had been through so much in such a short time, but
right now, none of that mattered.

All
of that was swept away because of the moment that was about to happen.

Clay
stepped closer to her now, and was inches away from her. It was so cold in the
shed that their breath clung to the air like tiny ice clouds. He was so close
to her she could see the green specks in his hazel eyes.

He
repeated his question, "You do know why I'm here?"

"Carina.
She broke her leg."

"I'm
helping my mother because she broke her leg."

And
then Clay was touching her, holding onto her shoulders gently, as if this bit
of new information might cause her to react unfavorably.

Jenna's
eyes grew wide and she swallowed hard.

"Your
mother?"

"When
I met you, I thought you were everything. I felt it that night we met at
Klippy's. I couldn't stand the thought of you being with Darren. I did my best
to be a friend, because I thought that's what you wanted. If I could only be
your friend, then I would take that. I've only taken one other girl to meet my
mom, and she ended up… well, that didn't matter. I wanted my mom to meet you,
but you were still unsure about everything, and I didn't want you to be
pressured by me asking you to meet my mom."

He
paused. "She adored you by the way."

Jenna's
smile spread wide across her face. "So that's how you know so much about
the café, and how you know all the trails and about the frozen blueberries, and
everything about the property? It's all your family's place?"

Clay
nodded. "Carina's Café is my mom's place, and someday it will be
mine."

Clay
tightened his arms around Jenna and she placed her hands on top of his
shoulders. When they exhaled, their breath made clouds of air, and the closer
he moved his face to hers, the clouds turned warm and disappeared.

"You're
really here," he said. "You came here for me?"

The
pounding in her ears had lessened, but her heart still thumped fast.

"I'm
here," she said, and then, "If you want me here?"

"Yes."

"Yes?"
she asked.

"Absolutely
yes. I want you here," he said.

Clay
placed his cold hands on either side of her cheeks, and her heart slowed to a
steady pace. As he looked into her eyes, she thought about what had transpired.
She had lost her mother, who had given her so much
–
a sister she might have never had whom she loved with an indescribable
fierceness. And Courtney
–
because of Helena's unselfishness
–
had been given the greatest gift of all
–
life and a family. And now, here Jenna was, with the man she loved, who
obviously was a devoted loving son to his own mother. What gifts all their
mothers had bestowed upon them. How lucky were they all to know that what had
been left to them by their mothers was the gift to love immensely and to share
that love.

Jenna
smiled.

Clay
took one hand away from her cheek and placed it on the back of her neck. He
kissed her softly, and then pulled away slowly.

"Come
on inside," Clay said, pulling her tightly to him. "I want to properly
introduce you to my mom. She's going to love you just as much as I do."

The End

Before
The Beginning

An
Excerpt

Coming
Summer 2013

“However far away,
I will always love you.”

Love Song – The
Cure

What Marnie Remembers

Don’t go any lower, don’t go any
lower. Oh my God, that feels so good, don’t go any lower.

“Stop.”

“Why?”

“Because, it feels too good.”

He looked up at her and smiled. A
smile that took her breath away, and scared her all at the same time.

“Plus, I don’t even know your
name.” She thought it started with a J.

“I told you. It’s Joe. And you’re
Marnie.”

The whole process irritated the
hell out of Marnie.

The microwave timer had buzzed,
frozen pancakes warmed and ready.               

 “You’re going to be late for the
bus!” she yelled as she searched the meat drawer for ham.

“Why don’t I do this the night
before?” Marnie muttered into the fridge. She almost expected it to answer. She
found meat, made sandwiches, and moved to the pantry to get syrup for the
pancakes.

The lid was sticky.

She could hear the boys arguing
about who got to play Xbox first when they got home from school. They were
going to be late. Again. And the lid was covered in syrup. Again.

“Dammit, boys! Get down here. NOW!”

They were still arguing as they
bounded down the stairs and Marnie knew Jeremy had taken his forefinger and
thumb and whacked his younger brother on the head because Trey yelped, “I’m
telling!”

“No tattling,” Marnie threatened.
“Or there’ll be no soccer after school.”

“Good. I hate soccer practice,”
Jeremy said.

“Me too,” Trey agreed with his
older brother.

Marnie shook her head. There was no
winning here. She was losing the battle that was good parenting, and she didn’t
know how she was going to make it through. High school – hell,
junior high
school –
was still eons away.

The rumble of the bus wheels
turning onto the street signaled panic in the boys’ eyes.

“The bus!” Trey screamed.

“Grab a granola bar, your lunches
and backpacks, and RUN!”

No matter what chaos each morning
brought, Jeremy and Trey were endearing still, her little boys, taking the time
to kiss her, and to tell her they loved her. Every morning, no matter what,
they still managed to love her. If only that were enough. If only.

As Trey buried his head into Marnie
for a hug, she inhaled the little boy smell of him. Oh God, how she wished they
didn’t have to grow up, didn’t have to become big boys. Big ones – well, big
eight-year-olds like Jeremy – were already showing signs of pulling away, of
needing her less and less. Of asking for fewer cuddles, and practically no more
bedtime stories, wanting rather to stay up late to watch basketball with dad
when he was home. At least six-year-old Trey could still be babied. He and
Marnie would snuggle at night and they would make up stories about worms named
Pinkster and Swirmy, who lived in huts in their backyard, and ate muddy cakes
filled with flies.

Marnie sighed. “I love you boys.
Have a good day.” She touched her belly.

“Love you too, mom. Bye!” And the
door banged behind them. Her double tornado out the door. She could still hear
them screaming down the drive, Trey shouting for Jeremy to wait up for him,
always, always chasing after his older brother.

Marnie opened the microwave and
took out the mini pancakes the boys hadn’t had time to eat. She grabbed the
syrup bottle again, forgetting it was sticky.

“Dammit,” she said to no one,
because no one was home. It was Tuesday, and Stuart was gone. It just felt
better to swear out loud.

She pulled a paper towel off the
roll and noticed it had a Fourth of July stars-and-stripes pattern on it.
Summer seemed like forever ago. She didn’t want to remember summer. She didn’t
want to think of fireworks and pool parties, barbeques and sparklers. And her
boys, their tanned little bodies, their goggled faces, swimming until they were
so tired they would collapse into their beds with no coaxing. She didn’t want
to think about parades and fresh lemonade, neighborhood get-togethers, of
weekend trips to her parent’s lake house, all the things they had missed out
on. She didn’t want to think about what she should be doing now.

Marnie turned the faucet on cold,
saturated the paper towel, and rubbed the top of the syrup bottle as best as
she could to clean it off. Then she doused the pancakes and ate every last one
of them, popping them quickly into her mouth until they were gone; until the
anxiety settled in the pit of her stomach and she felt like she could begin her
day.

As she ate, she ran a mental list
through her head: the dry-cleaners, a gift for a friend whose birthday she had
forgotten, the grocery store. And she would have to stop by the post office to
mail that package that had been sitting on the foyer table for over a week now.
The one Stuart had asked her to mail.

When he got home last Thursday and
spotted it still there, he had sighed. “I didn’t have time today,” she said.
“Tomorrow,” she promised. “I’ll get to it tomorrow.”

“I’m home now. I can mail it
tomorrow,” he had said, but he hadn’t gotten around to doing it either.

The phone rang, Marnie wiped her
sticky fingers on another paper towel, and checked Caller ID. It was Collette.
She hadn’t talked to Collette since last week so she settled back down into her
seat, ready for Collette’s usual pep talk. Marnie was desperate for one today.

“Hey you,” Marnie answered.

“Mar, hon. He’s back in town.”

Marnie felt the food she had just
devoured rise in a lump to her throat.