She returned to her computer with her tea and toast and, seeing that it was now online, went directly to Google.com. Her topic was ovarian cancer, and as soon as she hit search more than seven million results popped up. She narrowed the search to include “symptoms,” and the list shrunk to less than two million. Then she scanned for a website that sounded reliable and waited for it to open up. She knew this information should be familiar to her. After all, Dr. Daruka had given her numerous pamphlets in the past. Then again, had she ever actually read them? Or had she stuck them away to read “later” as she hid beneath a protective blanket of denial?
Anna felt herself growing more and more tense as she studied the list of symptoms. Her palms were sweating, and she knew that her pulse rate was increasing as she began to mentally check off all the symptoms that she’d been experiencing. Everything from abdominal discomfort and bloating to gastrointestinal symptoms like gas, indigestion, and nausea, to fatigue and even urinary problems. There was hardly one symptom on the list that she hadn’t experienced. To make matters worse, she discovered that ovarian cancer was sneaky . . . because symptoms often didn’t appear until the case was quite advanced. Not only that, but women who hadn’t given birth were at a much higher risk. And the risk climbed even higher when family history was involved – particularly on the maternal side.
Anna slammed her laptop shut, then raced to the bathroom, where she barely made it to the toilet in time to lose her green tea and toast. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she stood over the sink, rinsing out her mouth and splashing cold water onto her face. She knew what was happening . . . history was repeating itself.
Unless she was overlooking something. Oh, it seemed impossible and too much to hope for. Especially considering all the times she’d been disappointed before. But what if this time was different? What if she really was pregnant?
Anna opened the small storage cabinet in the bathroom, digging past toilet paper packages and tissue boxes until she found what she was looking for – a pregnancy test kit. She’d almost tossed it out several times before, but doing that would have felt like giving up for good. Besides, there was still one test remaining, and one was all it took. Really, what could it hurt to just try?
After several minutes, Anna stared down at the used strip. Of course it was negative. Why should that surprise her? She wondered why she’d even bothered as she tossed the kit into the wastebasket. Then she took it out again. She didn’t want Michael to see it and wonder about it. Instead she wrapped the kit in newspaper and took it to the trash can outside. On her way back through the kitchen, she paused at her computer again, then sat down to read some more. Although there were informative sites that boasted of new procedures and improved treatments, Anna felt a growing sense of doom and foreboding. It seemed obvious . . . She was her mother’s daughter.
She picked up the phone and called Dr. Daruka’s office but immediately got a recording. “Dr. Daruka will be out of town during the Thanksgiving holiday weekend. You may reach her on Monday during regular office hours. If this is an emergency, please call 911. Thank you.”
“Right.” Anna hung up. “911 . . . you bet.”
Anna took a long, hot shower, got dressed, leashed up Huntley, and headed for the neighborhood park. As she walked, Anna attempted to pray. She wasn’t a stranger to prayer, but, she suddenly realized as she struggled to come up with the right words to pray, she hadn’t prayed much during the past couple of years – not since losing the baby. Oh, it wasn’t as if she blamed God. She didn’t. Not really. But she had wondered why he hadn’t helped out just a little . . . Giving them a baby had seemed such a small thing at the time – especially in light of all the harder-to-resolve problems of the universe. It wasn’t as if she’d been asking to win the lottery or to be handed a leading role on Grey’s Anatomy. She had simply wanted a baby.
But then again, God had probably known that Anna was going to get sick like her mother . . . and perhaps he hadn’t wanted for her to leave a motherless child behind. If her pregnancy had gone full-term, her baby would’ve been nearly three by now. A girl, Dr. Daruka had somberly informed her at the hospital. Anna hadn’t wanted to know the baby’s sex before the birth – she had wanted to be surprised. If it was a boy they were going to name him Edmond, and a girl would be named Olivia after Great-Gran and Mom. Maybe it was just as well that little Olivia was safely in heaven with her namesakes now. Maybe God knew that Anna would be with her baby girl before long.
Anna walked and walked around the little park. She circled it so many times that even Huntley began to slow his pace, glancing up at her as if to question this odd behavior. The poor old dog was going on twelve, and his stubby legs weren’t as strong as they used to be.
“I’m sorry, Huntley,” she said. “Am I wearing you out?” She paused at a park bench, and Huntley, obviously relieved for this break, stretched out on the footpath in front of her.
Anna sat there on the bench, looking up at the bare trees. Okay, if her worst fears were really coming to pass, what was her next step? Well, besides making a doctor appointment, and that wasn’t even possible right now. She knew she needed to talk to someone, but she wondered how she could possibly break this news to Michael. He’d already been through so much with her – all those years of useless fertility treatments combined with all those desperate nights when she’d cried herself to sleep in his arms. She replayed all that he’d sacrificed for her since their marriage. How he had reluctantly gone into what he called “that nasty room” to “donate” sperm for her, or how he’d continued at a job he’d hated just to keep up their health insurance policy (mostly for her, since the private school where she taught had no coverage). Not to mention how he’d willingly emptied their savings and gone into debt – all in an effort to make her happy. Or at least that had been the goal. And now, after she’d given up on more fertility treatments as well as a baby, and he’d finally been able to quit the detested marketing job to start up his own design firm with his buddy Grant, she was going to tell him this? It was just too cruel.
That’s when it hit her – they had no health insurance! Not a speck! They had known it was risky, but it was only temporary. Michael had quit his job in August, and they’d decided to save a few precious bucks – money that was needed for the new business – planning to purchase a health insurance plan after the New Year. But by then it would be too late . . . unless there was no diagnosis. Okay, perhaps keeping her illness a secret might be considered devious or dishonest. She wasn’t even sure. But, to be fair, she didn’t know for certain she had ovarian cancer. In a way, she’d been jumping to conclusions since no professional had examined her yet. And surely they wouldn’t be able to call this a preexisting condition without an official diagnosis.
Anna did some quick calculating, counting the weeks off on her fingers. January was less than six weeks away. Whatever was going on with her would simply have to wait. Most of those weeks would be vacation time anyway. And, really, what difference would it make in the end? Anna felt fairly certain that her fate was already sealed, and she cried as she walked home. And, although she may have been imagining it, she felt that Huntley understood what was going on with her. At the end of each block, he would look up at her with those big, sad eyes, and it seemed they were full of compassion – as if he was saying he was sorry.
By the time she got home, Anna knew what had to be done. She had to “buck up.” And that’s exactly what Dad used to tell her and her siblings in the months following their mom’s death. Dad hadn’t been very tolerant of emotional outbursts. He took the stance that what was done was done, and no one should carry on about it. And so that’s what Anna would do about this. She would follow her father’s example and pretend like everything was just fine. Not only that, she had to make sure – mostly for Michael’s sake – that this was the best Christmas ever!
4
“You’re putting up lights this year?” Bernice, the elderly neighbor from across the street, observed.
Anna forced a smile as she continued her attempt to untangle the strands of small white bulbs, stretching them out across the lawn. “Yes, I decided it was time to get back into the Christmas groove.”
“Not me,” Bernice said. “Ever since Harry died, I just don’t have it in me to decorate much anymore.”
Anna peered at the white-haired woman. “I’m sorry,” she said with compassion. “Holidays must be hard.”
Bernice nodded. “Particularly Christmas. Harry just loved Christmas. He didn’t mind climbing on the roof to put up Santa and the reindeer and the works. Every year I was certain he was going to fall and break his neck, but he never did. And, oh my, the grandkids thought he was the greatest. I can still remember their eyes lighting up when they saw the house glowing from one end to the other. And the tree – good grief, Harry always had to get one that reached clear to the ceiling.” She tossed her thumb back toward the contemporary-style house. “And we have twelve-foot ceilings.” She sighed. “It was really something.”
“Do the grandkids still come for Christmas?”
“Mercy, no.” She shook her head. “They all have their own lives now . . . other relatives to spend time with.”
“So, what do you do for Christmas?”
Bernice just shrugged. “Oh, I usually pop in a microwave dinner . . . watch a Christmas special on TV . . . go to bed early.”
Anna frowned, suddenly feeling guilty for not having this conversation with her neighbor years ago. “Well, how about if you come to our house for Christmas this year, Bernice?”
Bernice’s eyes grew bright. “Really?”
“Sure. We usually go to my dad’s house for Christmas Eve and someone else’s for Christmas Day. But this year I’d like to do Christmas dinner at home, and I’d love to have you join us.”
“Well now, I’d like that. Thank you.” She smiled. “Thank you very much. And you let me know if there’s something I can bring. I used to make a very nice Waldorf salad.”
“That sounds great.”
“I’m going to run home and see if I can dig up the recipe this afternoon.”
Anna laid down the last strand of lights. “And I think I’m about ready to get out the ladder and get these lights hung.”
“You’re going to do it all by yourself?” Bernice looked slightly alarmed.
“Well, Michael’s very busy with a new business . . . so I thought I’d surprise him.”
“Do be careful.”
“Thanks, I will.”
Anna plugged in the lights to test them. She was relieved to see that, other than a few burnt-out ones here and there, they worked. Heights had never bothered her, and once she got out the ladder and started hanging the lights around the eaves of their bungalow, she decided to climb to the peak of the roof and have a look around. She was surprised at how different things looked from that vantage point. She could see over fences and into neighbors’ backyards. Some backyards, like theirs, were neat and orderly – everything in its place. Well, except for the strip of worn grass in Huntley’s doggy run, but even that was fairly tidy. Others were messy and chaotic looking. Like the one a couple houses down with bright-colored plastic toys strewn all about – what she wouldn’t give for a yard like that.
Finally her work was done. She couldn’t wait until dark to see them really lighting up the place. It had been several years since they’d done Christmas lights, and Michael would probably be pleasantly surprised. Hopefully he’d remember this in years to come . . . when he, like Bernice, had to rethink the holidays and come up with new traditions. She wondered if Michael would remarry after she was gone. Part of her hoped so, and yet a part of her didn’t want to share him with anyone.
In the house, she made a list of all the things she wanted to do for Christmas this year – all the things it would take to make this the best Christmas ever. Of course, her resources were pretty limited. Most of her salary, which wasn’t a lot since she taught at a private school with a limited budget, was going to pay off their bills these days – trying to wipe out the debt that had accumulated during those despicable fertility treatments. And now, more than ever, she knew she needed to stick to that financial plan. If all went well, she might have the debt completely wiped out by the end of the school year. That is, if she could remain healthy enough to teach until June. She sure hoped so.
She tried to remember how her mom had been during that final year. Of course, she hadn’t worked outside of the home, but even so, taking care of a husband and three kids couldn’t have been easy. Always their house had been neat as a pin with homemade dinners every night, bag lunches ready to take to school, and even the laundry neatly folded and sitting on their beds when they came home from school. Anna marveled at this now. These were chores that Anna still struggled to get done herself, but she rationalized that a full-time job took its toll on the housework. Plus she hadn’t really been herself this fall. And perhaps, if her energy continued to falter, she’d need to enlist Michael’s help with a few of the household tasks – like laundry, which she abhorred. But not until after the New Year. And not until their insurance dilemma was settled and her diagnosis was certain. Until then, she would manage somehow.
So, although her Christmas to-do list was fairly long, she tried to keep it economical. Fortunately she still had a couple boxes of unused Christmas cards . . . only because she hadn’t sent them out the past two years. And she’d already tucked away a few things she’d bought for relatives during the year. It was something her mom had always done, sticking away gifts for future holidays. Even after Mom had died, Anna’s dad had discovered numerous presents all wrapped and ready for them. Sure, there’d been bittersweet tears when these packages were opened, but Anna always knew that her mother had meant well. She just wanted to do her best by her family. And that’s what Anna wanted to do. She wanted to leave Michael with only happy memories of this Christmas.
She was pacing in the kitchen now, trying to think of what she could give him for Christmas – what was it that he really wanted? Well, besides a long, happy marriage and a child – two things that were out of her reach now. What could she possibly give him that he would thoroughly enjoy? What could she leave behind for him to remember her by?
Then it hit her. His little midnight-blue MG convertible. The same car she had complained about just yesterday, whining about how it took up all the room in their tiny detached garage. As if she’d ever use that garage anyway, with its funky old wooden door that wasn’t exactly easy to open, let alone allow her to drive a car into the garage without hitting something. But right now the 1966 MG was sitting in there with a gray dustcover draped over it, like a ghost car. Michael had purchased the little roadster shortly after graduating from college, back before they’d even started dating. His plan had been to restore it to its former glory, but dating, work, life, and marriage had gotten in the way. Still, they had enjoyed the car for a while, during their courtship period and the first couple years of marriage. And then the engine had overheated and now needed to be completely rebuilt or replaced.
If only she could come up with a way to get Michael a new engine for that car. She could just imagine him driving it around – after she was gone – and remembering her. It was perfect. Well, except for the cost. She didn’t know much about engines, except that Michael had said it was very expensive . . . and that they could not afford it. And so the car had just sat for the past eight years. Of course, Anna didn’t know the first thing about cars or engines. But she knew someone who did.
“David?” she said when her brother answered his cell phone on the first ring. “This is Anna, and I have a car question. Do you have a minute?”
“Go for it. I’m stuck in traffic at the moment.”
“You answer your phone while you’re driving?”
“I wear a headset.”
“Oh.” She presented her idea for getting Michael an engine for Christmas.
“Wow, that’s not going to be cheap, Anna.”
&
nbsp; “I know, but do you have any idea how much? Or where I’d go? Or any of that stuff?”
“Well, I’m guessing you could probably get a rebuilt engine for, oh, I don’t know, maybe five hundred. But a new engine would be more. Then you have to pay to have it installed.”
“Oh . . .”
“Want me to do some research for you on it?”
“Would you?”
“As long as you guys let me borrow the car sometime.”
“I’m sure that could be arranged.” Suddenly Anna got a lump in her throat as she imagined David and Michael taking the roadster for a spin without her . . . after she was gone.
“I’ll let you know what I find out.”
“Oh, yeah,” Anna said suddenly. “I almost forgot. I still have that, uh, nursery furniture . . . and, well, since we’re not going to have a baby . . . I thought . . .”
“Oh, Anna . . .” His voice sounded sad now.
“I mean, it’s really good quality, and I know it’s very safe. Do you think Celeste would be interested?”
“To buy?”
“No, of course not. I couldn’t sell it. It would be a gift.”
“Wow, that’s really generous, Anna. I’ll tell Celeste, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And I’ll let you know what I find out.”
“Thanks, David. And, oh yeah, please don’t tell anyone about the engine for Michael. Not Dad or Meri or even Celeste. I want this to be a complete surprise, okay?”
“My lips are sealed.”
Then they said good-bye and hung up, and Anna just sat there by the phone. She hadn’t really thought about how all this might affect her family. They’d already gone through this once. She hated to take them through it again. Perhaps it would be best to keep quiet about it even after January. Maybe she could hold out until the end of the illness before she broke the news to them – sort of like her mother had done. She had no idea how Meredith would react. Ever since losing their mom, they had been extremely close. Even when they were teenagers, friends would comment on the fact that the two girls rarely fought. Of course, she and Meri would say it was because they were so different. Where Meredith was outspoken and extroverted, Anna tended to be quiet and shy. Somehow their opposite natures helped to glue them together. Well, that and losing Mom.
The Joy of Christmas Page 17
