by Jae
“It’s okay,” Sally said with a light touch to Jill’s arm. “It hasn’t been very long since you’ve been diagnosed, has it?”
On the one hand, it felt like yesterday that her doctor had tilted her world on its axis with his words, I’m pretty sure it’s MS. On the other hand, she could barely remember life without MS. “Actually, it’s been almost two years.”
Sally looked surprised for a moment before shrugging. “We all deal with it in our own time.”
What was that supposed to mean? She had dealt with it already, hadn’t she? Squaring her chin, she stared at Sally, who only gave her a mild smile in return.
Something quivered inside of Jill. God, was Sally right? Admittedly, she felt pretty out of her depth lately. Had she just deluded herself into thinking she had coped with her condition when in reality she’d been in denial all this time?
Jill had a feeling that the answer to that question was a resounding yes. She hadn’t come to grips with many of the aspects of MS, and that included her stance on relationships. Instead of carefully examining her options, she had closed that door once and for all.
“How long did it take you?” she finally found the courage to ask, looking from Sally to George.
A quiet sigh escaped George. He and Sally exchanged wry smiles. “It’s an ongoing process,” George said. “We pretty much spent the last twenty years dealing with one change after another. Having to give up my job. Going from using a cane to a walker and then a wheelchair. No longer being able to drive myself. Losing some of our friends who couldn’t deal with the helplessness.”
Jill’s stomach bunched itself up into a massive knot. She remembered the YouTube video she had watched right after being diagnosed. That woman’s boyfriend had left her because he couldn’t deal with her condition. She peeked over at Crash, who waited in line at the hot-dog stand. What if she couldn’t deal with it either, despite what she said? She shook off the painful thought and returned her attention to Sally. “Do you ever…?”
“Regret marrying him?” Sally finished for her.
Unable to look her in the eyes or look at George, Jill nodded.
Despite the grief that had been apparent in her eyes when her husband had listed his losses, Sally sounded strong and determined as she said, “Not even for a second.” She put her hand on top of his limp one. “We met after George was diagnosed, so I entered into this relationship with my eyes wide open. Some days are harder than others and a few are hell, but just having him in my life makes it all worthwhile.”
They looked at each other with a gaze so loving that it almost hurt Jill to watch.
“Ditto,” George said, more to Sally than to Jill. Then he looked over at her. “Sometimes I worry about leaning on Sally too much. This,” he nodded down at his paralyzed body, “is a lot to take on. I didn’t want her to live like this. I still don’t. But what am I to do? This stubborn woman won’t leave me, so I might as well accept her love.”
Could it really be that easy? Jill’s world seemed to tilt beneath her. She clutched the edge of the table. Little electric shocks stabbed her left leg, a poignant reminder of her own illness, but they were nothing in comparison to the pain in her heart.
“And from what I know of your girlfriend, she’s just as stubborn,” George added.
“Oh, no, we’re not… She’s not…”
“It’s okay,” Sally said and touched her arm in a motherly gesture. “We already know the two of you are gay.”
“That’s not… We’re really not… I mean, we are gay, but—”
Crash returned to the table with two bottles of water and two hot dogs. She settled down next to Jill and handed over one of each. “Did I miss anything?”
“No,” Jill, George, and Sally said in unison.
Jill started eating, glad for the distraction, but while the others talked, she was still thinking about George’s words.
When George tired and they prepared to leave, Sally pressed a card into Jill’s hand.
Confused, Jill stared down at it. “What…?”
“It’s the web address for the support group George is running,” Sally said.
George was running a support group? She hadn’t thought that possible.
“It’s an online group, since some of us can no longer drive,” George said. “The chat room we’re using is compatible with my dictation software, so I can do this on my own. Why don’t you drop by one evening and give it a try?”
“Self-help groups aren’t my thing.” She tried to hand back the card, which seemed to burn in her hand, but Sally refused to take it.
“That’s what I said in the beginning, but the meetings really help,” George said. “Now I’m even running my own group, and it’s great to be able to give back some of the help I received.”
Sighing, Jill pocketed the card. “I’ll think about it.”
The parking lot was almost empty, and all of their colleagues were long gone, but neither Crash nor Jill were in a hurry to leave. Crash had enjoyed spending the last few hours with Jill, playfully arguing about who got to pay for the hot dogs and talking about everything under the sun. Once they left here, she wasn’t sure what to expect—would Jill shut her out again, overwhelmed with everything she had experienced today?
She watched Jill, who was nibbling her bottom lip as if she needed to digest something. Crash had a pretty good idea what it was, but she wanted to hear it from Jill and help her deal with it. “Penny for your thoughts.”
“I don’t think they’re worth that much.”
“They are worth much more than that. At least to me,” Crash said, gazing into Jill’s eyes.
Emotions were swirling through the green depths. For a moment, Crash thought Jill would refuse to answer or would make some kind of joke, but then Jill cleared her throat. “Sally and George.” She shook her head with puzzlement. “Weren’t they amazing?”
Crash nodded. “There were a lot of amazing people doing the walkathon. I know how hard it was for you to come here today.”
Jill was silent for several seconds. Just when Crash thought she might not answer, she said, “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Well, other than dissecting a frog in biology class. I still don’t know how I managed not to puke.”
Of course Jill would add a joke to that emotional confession. It was so typically Jill that Crash had to smile. “Well, you conquered this frog.” She indicated the Rose Bowl loop.
“You’ve been a big part of it,” Jill said. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” Crash squeezed her hand, and then neither of them let go.
They leaned against Jill’s Beetle holding hands, watching other participants leave.
Anna and her husband waved as they passed them with their little girl.
“Having three kids while suffering from fatigue,” Jill murmured. “I don’t know how she does it. I get tired just thinking about it.”
Crash studied her, taking in the shifting emotions on her expressive features. “You haven’t spent much time around other people with MS, have you?”
“I didn’t know that was required,” Jill said, a bit tersely. Then she pressed her lips together and squeezed Crash’s hand. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be so bitchy. It’s just… I feel a bit…raw today.”
“I know what you mean.” Crash debated with herself for several seconds before deciding to go ahead and voice her thoughts. If they kept dancing around each other, they would never be able to build any kind of deeper relationship. “That’s how I have felt since…well, pretty much since I met you.” She held up her hand before Jill could speak. “I know we won’t ride off into the sunset together anytime soon. That’s all right. Just don’t shut me out again, okay? I want to be part of your life beyond the bedroom, in whatever capacity you’ll allow.”
Instead of her features closing off, as Crash had feared, a slo
w smile crept onto Jill’s face. “Ride off into the sunset?”
Crash shrugged. “I guess I saw too many westerns as a kid.”
They both shuffled their feet and looked around the parking lot instead of at each other.
Ridiculous. Crash had never been at a loss for words around women, at least not since leaving her teenage years behind. Tensing more with every second that went by, she waited for Jill to acknowledge what she’d just said.
“I don’t know what exactly I want from you…from our…from us,” Jill said, staring down at the car keys in her left hand as if they were the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen. She peeked up. “Actually, that’s not true. I know what I want, but I have no idea what I can have.”
Crash’s heart gave an excited thud. Admitting that was a huge step for Jill. She pressed her lips together, afraid that anything she said now would be too much and scare her away. Finally, when Jill kept looking at her, she said, “That’s okay. We’ve got time to figure it out.”
She hoped that was the truth. Filming would end in less than three weeks, and their initial agreement had been that their fling would end then. Would Jill, in a final, desperate attempt not to let her close, insist on it, even though so much had changed? She was determined not to let that happen, but it all depended on Jill.
When Jill just nodded in reply, Crash figured she had reached the capacity of what she could process in one day. “So,” she said in a lighter tone, “what are you going to do with the rest of the afternoon? Any plans?”
“Not yet. But, well…” Jill peered up from under half-lowered lashes, heat and shyness mingling in her gaze. “I seem to remember giving you a rain check, if you’re still interested.”
The hint of vulnerability beneath her seductive tone touched Crash’s heart. “Oh, I’m definitely interested. I mean, the walkathon was a rather leisurely affair, so I should do something to get my heart rate up.”
Jill quirked a smile. “Need a sparring partner to assist you with that?”
Crash chuckled and tipped the brim of an imaginary hat. “That would be very much appreciated, ma’am.”
Grinning, Jill unlocked her car. “Well, then, follow me.”
“Crash?” Jill said quietly as they lay tangled together in her bed. She lifted her head off Crash’s chest.
Something in her tone made Crash open her eyes and try to make out Jill’s expression in the near darkness. “Hmm?” She trailed her fingers in soothing circles over Jill’s shoulder blades, enjoying the smoothness of her warm skin.
“Do you think the couples we met today can still have this?” Jill gestured at their naked bodies.
“You mean sex?”
Jill nodded.
“Well, since they can’t be with you, it won’t be as amazing,” Crash said with a grin. Then, sensing how serious this was for Jill, she sobered. “I’m not sure, Jill. I assume many of them manage some kind of sexual intimacy.”
Jill was silent for a while. “Even the ones who ended up in a wheelchair?” she asked, sounding skeptical. “How’s that supposed to work?”
“The handicapped partner could tell the other how to touch herself, for example.” Crash rolled them around and nibbled Jill’s neck, tasting the resulting goose bumps with her tongue. She trailed a string of kisses up Jill’s neck and then whispered in her ear, “Wouldn’t that be hot?”
A shiver went through Jill. She clutched Crash’s bare back, digging in her nails in a way that made Crash groan with pleasure. “Oh yeah. At least for a change of pace. But if that was the only thing I could do…”
For a moment, Crash considered showing her how creative they could get in their lovemaking. But that wouldn’t help Jill with all the doubts that were apparently going through her mind. She rolled them onto their sides and held Jill in her arms. “I hope it’ll never come to that. But if it happens, we would figure it out together.”
Jill leaned up on one elbow and stared down at her as if amazed that Crash had openly used the word we, but instead of protesting, she sighed and nestled closer.
“You’ve got a lot more to offer than just sex,” Crash said and kissed her softly.
“Amazing sex,” Jill corrected.
Crash smiled against her lips. “Even more than that.”
For a moment, Jill looked as if she was tempted to show her just how amazing it could be, but then she put her head on Crash’s shoulder and closed her eyes.
Crash held her until they both fell asleep.
CHAPTER 19
Jill glanced at the clock in the right-hand corner of her laptop’s task bar. One minute to eight. She stared at the dialogue box that had been on her screen for the last five minutes. Should she log in or not? If she waited much longer, the meeting would start without her.
Sweat broke out all over her body while she paused with her fingers over the keyboard. Come on. You can do it. It’s anonymous.
Not giving herself time to back out, she chose a username, typing the first thing that came to mind.
A message appeared at the top half of the screen.
Actress_lady has entered the room.
Jill gripped the laptop with both hands and looked around the group’s meeting room. The right side of the screen listed the usernames of the other participants: LeaM, Momof3, Jennacbarton, Stacy123, Wishbone, Sucks_to_be_me, and Totally_dorky. She chuckled at what she assumed to be George’s nickname.
Another message, this one in red, popped up.
Totally_dorky: Hey there, actress_lady. Glad you could join us. Like my wife said, we don’t bite.
Jill froze. Sally had said that at the walkathon. So much for staying anonymous. How had George guessed who she was? Had Crash told him she was an actress?
LeaM: Welcome.
Wishbone: Hi.
She answered with a smiley, hoping they would get the message. She was here to watch, not to talk.
Totally_dorky: Does anyone have any questions or things you want to talk about tonight?
Jill waited, hoping someone else would come up with something and she wouldn’t be called on.
Stacy123: My mom’s on the warpath again.
Sucks_to_be_me: What crawled up her ass this time?
Stacy123: The appointment with my neurologist was on Monday, and I refused to let her come. The last time I allowed her to come in with me, she wouldn’t stop crying and then she wasted all my time by explaining her crazy treatment ideas to my doctor and insisting that we try them.
Maybe she was related to Jill’s mother. That sounded like something her mom would have done—if she had ever accompanied her to a doctor’s appointment. The last time they had talked on the phone, her mother had gone on and on about the benefits of cod liver oil, right after she had asked Jill if she had finally talked to her brother.
Stacy123: That’s more stress than I can deal with right now, so I told her to stay home. It’s hard enough to remember all the things I want to talk about with my neuro without her there to create drama.
Jennacbarton: Yeah! Finally!
Momof3: Go, girl!
Wishbone added an icon displaying a pair of clapping hands to the discussion.
LeaM: You did the right thing. Your doctor’s appointment is for you.
Sucks_to_be_me: Yeah. If your mother can’t deal, she should make her own appointment—preferably with a therapist.
Jill chuckled. Sucks_to_be_me seemed to be quite the character. She wondered what his or her story was.
Totally_dorky: Do you have someone else who could come with you, maybe drive you and then wait in the car or the waiting room?
For several seconds, nothing moved on the screen. Then Stacy123’s answer popped up.
Stacy123: I could ask my boyfriend, but he’s working a lot and I don’t want to impose on him all the time.
Sucks_to_be_me: Impose
? Hello? He’s your boyfriend, so he should be glad to be there for you.
Totally_dorky: Tone it down, Sucks. It’s not an easy balance to achieve for most people. Mrs. Totally Dorky and I struggled with it for a long time. I don’t want to shut her out and be a stubborn jerk, but I also don’t want to give up what little independence I still possess and have her carry too much of my burden.
A new message from actress_lady appeared on the screen. Jill stared at the sentence in blue and then at her fingers, which had moved over the keyboard as if on their own accord.
Actress_lady: How do you do it? How do you achieve a balance?
Sucks_to_be_me: Ooh, so the newbie can talk.
Momof3: Shut up.
Jennacbarton: Dorky, I think Sucks needs a reminder of the group rules.
Sucks_to_be_me: Okay, okay. Sorry, actress_lady.
Jill ignored them all, waiting for George’s reply. The red type finally appeared on the screen:
Totally_dorky: The same way we all are.
Which was? She hesitated and then typed her question.
Totally_dorky: You put together a network of supportive people who are there for you when you have a relapse or become disabled, so that not everything rests on the shoulders of your main caregiver.
Sucks_to_be_me: Duh. Bet she did that already.
Her fingers frozen on the keyboard, Jill shook her head. No, she hadn’t. Sure, she knew Grace and Lauren would be there for her if push came to shove. Susana wouldn’t hesitate to help either. But she had never made any formal arrangements or talked to them about it.
