Patsy opened the cover of the book and gazed at the table of contents. Take an Adventure Walk … Build a Birdhouse … Knit a Scarf … Jump Rope Games … Learn a Song …
The suggestions seemed endless, and just reading them lightened the load on Patsy’s heart. She might be slow with her cane, but she could take an adventure walk if she saved up her energy. And knitting scarves was something she’d done back when Leslie was a small girl. Certainly Grace would have fun doing those things.
If they spent that kind of quality time together, Grace was bound to be happy. And maybe then she’d find something more than good times together.
Maybe she’d find her precious granddaughter’s smile, as well.
Twenty-One
Tanner clicked the remote control and a sports program filled the television screen.
“ESPN?” Jade moaned.
“Sports are good medicine.”
She giggled. “Okay, but my movie’s on in fifteen, deal?”
“Deal.”
Tanner wrapped his arms around Jade, savoring the way she snuggled in close to him on the sofa. Her hair smelled like fresh soap. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the top of her head. He could have stayed that way forever. Jade cradled against him, Ty asleep upstairs, happy and content and unaware of the impending danger his mother faced.
It was one week until Jade’s early due date, the day that would give both her and the baby the best chance at surviving. Since the day he’d walked out of the office for the last time—hours after his talk with Jade in the church that night—Tanner had spent nearly every waking moment at her side.
Briefs and case precedents and troubled files meant nothing to him. Not anymore. Instead his days were filled with everything about her—the way her eyelashes looked when she slept, the sound of her voice over morning coffee, the brush of her skin against his. He’d fallen in love with her all over again, and no matter how much time they spent together, it wasn’t enough. Tanner cherished every moment, even the difficult ones.
In the process, something amazing had happened. Jade’s speech was still slow, but no longer slurred. And though she shuffled her feet, she got around most of the time without the wheelchair.
“I don’t get it,” Tanner had told Dr. Layton at Jade’s last visit. “What’s the difference?”
Jade had smiled at him. “I already told you.”
Tanner gave her a skeptical look and then leveled his gaze at the doctor. “Jade thinks it’s because I’m around more, but that wouldn’t change someone’s physical condition. Maybe the tumor’s shrinking.”
Dr. Layton glanced at Jade’s file on his desk and stroked his chin. “It isn’t growing, but it isn’t shrinking, either.” He looked at them. “I think Jade may have a point.”
Tanner remembered thinking he hadn’t heard the doctor right. “Meaning what?”
“There’s a growing body of research showing that love—the physical touch and closeness of someone we care for—has a positive influence on the body’s immune system. Some studies say it’s more powerful than diet, weight, fitness, and heredity combined.”
Jade had smiled at him. “See?” She squeezed his hand. “You’re why I feel better.”
After hearing Dr. Layton’s information, Tanner wanted to cry for a week. If his nearness to Jade had helped her improve in so short a time, imagine what it could have done if he’d been there since the beginning, since she was first diagnosed.
The memory faded and Tanner was glad. There was no point beating himself up over what he hadn’t done. He was here now and there was no place he’d rather be. Matt called every few days and gave him updates on what was happening at the office. But only updates.
Tanner had made his departure clear to all of them. He was taking an indefinite leave of absence. Whether that would be three months or a year or even two, he had no idea. Until he returned, Matt was in charge. All questions would go to Matt and occasionally, a few times a week, Matt would call Tanner and keep him posted on the current caseload.
“I want to know what we’re taking on,” he told Matt after the good-bye lunch. “But stop me if I get specific. Strategies, case precedents, meetings with opposing attorneys. None of it. I need to be completely focused on Jade and Ty.”
“You’re sure about this?”
Tanner had looked straight at Matt and given him a sad smile. “Right now I’m not sure if Jade will live to see tomorrow. I’m not sure I’ll ever see our baby girl, and if I do, I’m not sure she’ll survive her first month. I have no idea how Ty and I will go on if we lose Jade, but leaving work?” He patted Matt on the shoulder. “I’m absolutely sure about that.”
“Good.” Matt’s eyes were thoughtful. “It’s just what you need. Time together.”
Tanner gazed at the ceiling for a moment and shook his head as his eyes found Matt’s again. “Why’d it take me so long to see it?”
“Life’s like that sometimes.” Matt hesitated. “Was this time off … did Jade ask you to do it?”
“Not in so many words.” Tanner’s eyes grew wet. “She told me she needed me. That she’d take as many minutes as I could give.” He blinked back the tears. “In that moment, everything here paled in comparison to spending even one more minute with Jade.”
“If I was in your shoes, I’d do the same thing.” Matt slipped his hands in his pockets. “Exactly.”
“Probably sooner.”
Matt grinned. “I wasn’t going to mention that, but …”
Tanner reached for a thick file on his desk and handed it to Matt. “I’m giving you the Benson, Colorado, case.” He hesitated. “My strategy is outlined in the first document. After that you’ll find my interview notes, case precedent research, and copies of the lease contract that started the whole thing.”
Matt thumbed through the file and then looked at Tanner again. “This case meant a lot to you.”
A lump formed in Tanner’s throat as he leveled his gaze at Matt. “Jade means a whole lot more.”
Matt held the file up. “I’ll give it my best.” As he left Tanner’s office, Matt pointed heavenward. “I won’t be working alone.”
Tanner grinned. “I have no doubts.”
The memory faded again and ESPN went to a commercial.
“Time for my movie.” She batted her eyes, and for a moment Tanner was lost in them. Whether she was sick or not, Jade’s eyes were a gorgeous green, green as the water in Chesapeake Bay.
He sighed in mock frustration. “You sure you don’t want another half hour of SportsCenter?”
“Positive.”
This time he sighed long and hard. “Okay … what’s the movie.”
She grinned, and for an instant looked like the little girl he’d befriended back in Virginia. “The Way We Were. Channel Eight.”
He silently mouthed the title. “Chick flick, right? Tearjerker?”
Jade nestled in closer to his side. “Yes, but you’ll like it. I promise.”
Tanner groaned. “And if you’re wrong?” He kissed the top of her head.
“We can watch war movies for a week.” She giggled hard at the thought, and the sound was like nourishment for his soul.
How would he survive without the melody of her laugh, the feel of her body against his? He forced the question from his mind. “Okay. Channel Eight it is.”
For the next two hours, they watched Barbra Streisand and Robert Redford fall in and out of love until finally, at the end, they went their separate ways. Through the last fifteen minutes, Jade dabbed at an occasional tear and sniffled without being loud. When it was over, Tanner flicked off the television and turned down the light.
“See?” He twirled a lock of her hair between his fingers. “I told you it was sad.”
“It reminds me of us. Before we found each other again.”
Tanner thought about that, how empty life had been when they’d been tricked into going their separate ways. “Yeah.” He danced his fingers down the length of her arm.
“But our story …” He stopped himself.
“Our story what?”
He wanted to say their story would have a happy ending, that there would be no final parting for the two of them … but there was no way he could finish that sentence. Not yet, anyway. Not while Jade was fighting for her life. “Nothing. Hey, what should we do tomorrow?”
Jade let the issue pass. Instead, she gazed up at him and traced his lips with a trembling finger. “Have I told you how much I love you, Tanner Eastman?”
Her question made his knees weak, and though he never would have dreamed it possible, the feelings he held for her were stronger than they’d been that summer in Kelso, the summer they first fell in love. Stronger than they’d ever been before. He kissed the tip of her finger. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“Yes, I do.” Her eyes glistened. “I never asked you to walk away from the office, but here you are. The past two weeks I’ve hardly thought about being sick.”
“Good.”
“Remember that night at church, when I told you I thought I might die before morning?”
A lump formed in Tanner’s stomach. “Too well.”
“I never feel like that anymore.” She laid her head on his chest and sighed out loud, the same way she did when she eased herself into a hot bath. As though being beside him was the greatest feeling in the world. “It was my fault you kept your distance before. I should have told you how I felt.”
“I should have asked.”
“It’s over; we both learned something.” She took his hand and set it on her pregnant belly. “Can you believe she’ll be here in a week?”
The lump in Tanner’s gut twisted into a knot. “Thirty-two weeks. How early is that?”
She sat up a bit, staring at her swollen abdomen. “It’s early, but her lungs should be developed. It could take a month before she can go home, but maybe not. It depends on her weight.”
Tanner ran his hand over her stomach and hesitated. As he did, the baby pushed against his palm. “Ohhh. So you’re a fighter, little girl.” He grinned at Jade and pretended to whisper, “Just like her mother.”
A dreamy look filled Jade’s expression. “I feel like you’re closer to her lately.”
“Yeah—” Tanner moved his hand and the baby kicked him again—“Me, too.”
They watched the baby moving beneath her maternity shirt and laughed. “She’s rowdy tonight.”
Tanner’s heart was filled with awe. “It’s all so amazing. How could anyone question whether God created life?”
“Especially when you know what’s happening inside me, how a real person is being knit together. It’s the most beautiful miracle of all.”
Sorrow streaked the moment. “I wish I’d been there when Ty was born. All the time I missed … it still kills me.”
Jade shifted onto her side and wrapped her arms around Tanner’s waist. “You’ve more than made up for it.” She hesitated. “If something happens to me, I know you’d be okay. The three of you.”
Tanner’s back stiffened. “Don’t say that.”
“I’m sorry.” Jade was quiet. “I just want you to know I trust you, Tanner. You’re a wonderful dad. With or without me.”
“You aren’t going anywhere. God and I already talked about it.”
“I know. But just if … if God takes me home, you and the kids will be fine. You’re wonderful with Ty and you’ll be amazing with our daughter.”
“Daughter …” Tanner let the word dangle in the air like a delicate wind chime. “Are we ever going to name her?”
“Last time we talked about it you wanted to wait. At least until we got this far.”
“That was before I left work.”
“True.” She gripped his shirt and clung to him tighter than before. “We weren’t talking about a lot of things back then.”
“Well … I think it’s time.” He brushed his thumb along the side of her arm. “What names do you like?”
“The same ones we talked about before, I guess. The names we would have called our last little girl.”
Tanner worked the muscles in his jaw. “How old would she be now?”
Jade did not hesitate. “Seven months.”
“You always know, don’t you?” A pang of guilt struck him and he paused a moment. “I miss her, too. I just … I don’t know. What am I supposed to say about her? ‘She would have been beautiful? Precious? She still lives in my heart? We’ll see her one day in heaven?’ Anything I say won’t bring her back.” He leaned to the side and met Jade’s eyes. “You know?”
“I know. But Tanner, do me a favor.” Her eyes traveled a path deep into his heart. “When you’re feeling those things, say them. It’s all right to talk about her.”
“Okay.” He looked into her soul. “You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think we should name her, before we name this little girl. So we’re not always talking about her like she was only an idea.”
Tears filled Jade’s eyes as a smile filled her face. “Okay.”
“So let’s name her.”
They thought for a moment and Jade wiped at a single tear. “I have an idea.” She tilted her head and her eyes grew cloudy, as though she was remembering something from a long time ago. “Back when I was a girl, after we left Virginia and I thought I’d never see you again, everything about my life was lonely. My mother was gone forever, Dad drank every night, and, well … You know the things he said to me when he was drunk. He forbade me to go out or have friends in, not that I would’ve brought anyone home.” She hesitated. “Know how I survived that time in my life?”
Tanner hadn’t heard this part of her story before. “How?”
“I had an imaginary friend.” Jade’s smile softened. “She would sit with me on the front porch and read with me in my bedroom. I could tell her my secrets and she would laugh at my silly stories. Best of all, she looked just like me.”
An understanding dawned in Tanner’s mind. “What was her name?”
Jade lowered her chin. “Jenna.”
“Jenna …” Tanner let the word play on his tongue for a moment. “I like it. So that’s what you want to name her?”
Jade nodded. “Jenna Eastman.”
“Our first daughter. The daughter who lives in heaven.”
Jade’s eyes grew wet again. “Let’s not tell anyone about her name. Let’s make it our secret, just the two of us.” Her words were slower, and Tanner knew she was getting tired.
He looked at her, curious. “Why?”
Jade lifted one shoulder. “I don’t know. That way, whenever we’re thinking about her or wondering how old she’d be, we can talk about it together. Alone. Besides, when you miscarry, most people don’t think of it as losing a child. We’re the only ones who miss her.”
Tanner’s heart swelled. How good God was to give him Jade, this woman who cared so deeply and loved him so much. “Okay. Jenna’s our secret.”
Jade tapped her fingers on her stomach. “I’m kinda tired. Can we talk about this one tomorrow?”
Tomorrow. A shadow fell over the moment. “You have an appointment at the hospital tomorrow, remember?”
Peace masked Jade’s face. Peace and acceptance. “Yes, to check the tumor growth.”
Tanner pictured Jade sliding slowly, steadily, through the MRI tube, motionless and pale under the fluorescent hospital lights, her pregnant belly protruding through the hospital sheets, a stark contrast of life in the shadows of death.
“I hate those tests.”
“It’ll be okay. The tumor hasn’t grown; I’d know if it had.” Jade’s face lit up. “Besides, if we use the waiting time to talk about names, I won’t be so nervous.”
“Okay.” He relaxed some. “Sounds like a plan.”
They were quiet a moment; then Jade leaned against him again. “Did you ever love someone so much it hurt?”
Tanner cradled her body against his and closed his eyes. Again he longed to stay that way, holdin
g her, breathing the same air.
“Yes, Jade, I’ve loved someone that much … Every day; every hour. Every minute.”
Twenty-Two
Jade and Tanner arrived at the hospital at nine the next morning and were ushered into a private waiting room. Everything about the place was familiar since the facility was adjacent to the children’s hospital where Jade had worked these past years.
The test was not particularly grueling—there were no strange liquids to drink or painful positions to maintain—but Jade felt as uneasy about it as Tanner.
Lying on a flat tray, being moved through the white cylinder one inch at a time and then back through it again set her nerves on edge. Only by praying constantly—for Tanner and Ty and their unborn daughter, for Matt and Hannah and Jenny, and anyone else that came to mind—was she able to keep her thoughts from the place where they were tempted to be.
On the fact that her brain was being examined by microscopic rays that would determine the course of her life. And even whether she would live at all.
Ty was staying at his friend’s house, which meant Jade and Tanner could spend most of the day at the hospital. In addition to the MRI, Jade was scheduled for an ultrasound and appointments with both Dr. Layton and her obstetrician. The team of doctors was working together to make sure the baby’s birth would come at a time when Jade’s brain tumor seemed stable.
The day was bound to wear on her, so Jade had allowed Tanner to bring the wheelchair. Before they left the car, they held hands and prayed about the hours ahead. Now that they were in the waiting room, Tanner eased her from the wheelchair onto a vinyl sofa next to him.
She eyed the chair and tried not to hate it. It represented such failure and desperation, such proof of her illness. It’s temporary, she told herself. Then she turned to Tanner. “Okay, I guess it’s time.”
“Time?” Tanner’s blank expression made her laugh.
She pointed to her belly. “Time to figure out a name for little Miss Eastman here.”
A knowing look filled Tanner’s eyes and he slipped his arm around her. “Oh, that. Right.”