Resilient Love (Navy Love Series Book 3)

by jc santo

  “Well, that’s good. At least it wasn’t walking into a nightmare, but I don’t think any of us expected it to be a mess. You know how Marsh is with his company, that’s his baby.”

  “Eh, I don’t know. From the phone conversations I’ve overheard today, seems like he may have a new ‘baby’ on his hands.”

  What?

  “Are you joking?”

  “Look, I don’t really know. So don’t expect me to get roped into the woman gossip with you and the sisters. I just overheard that term a few times today and I know he doesn’t call clients ‘baby’.”

  I glance at the time on my watch. “Well, I better get back to work. I’ll see you when I get home.”

  “Okay, love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  We end the call and I immediately begin wondering how Marshall and the mysterious Preston worked through their issues after our night at the bar. I haven’t talked to Marsh since that night; he seems to be keeping some distance lately. I just hope he knows I’m here if he needs to talk to about anything pertaining to Preston.

  I’m still really shocked none of us have met him yet, or caught Marsh in a cover up over him.

  Just as I’m walking back into work, my phone vibrates in my hand.

  Miguel.

  “Hello?” I answer.

  “Jo, you need to get home. It’s time.”

  My heart stops and my stomach drops.

  It’s time.

  “Okay,” I say quietly. “I’m at work so I’ll talk with my chief now; catch a flight tonight or tomorrow.”

  “Alright, let me know and I’ll pick you up from the airport.”

  Miguel’s voice is thick, he’s trying to be strong, but I can tell having this conversation is just as hard for him as it is for me.

  “I love you. Give her a kiss for me and tell her to stay strong until I get there, okay?”

  “I will. Love you, too.” I hear the damn he’s constructed burst and the tears begin to fall.

  I end the phone call with the sound of his sobs in my ear. It’s the last thing I need to hear now while I’m at work. Miguel has always been the strongest of us kids. For something to break him down, I know it’s serious. I know I need to get home.

  J.C.

  At two o’clock, Marsh comes into the office telling me to take a hike for the day. I had a lot more stuff I could’ve worked on, but something about the way he was acting makes me think he was in a hurry to get rid of me.

  My theory is that ‘baby’ may have had something to do with me gettin’ the boot early this afternoon. Marsh was on the phone with him all damn day and I know, not that I’ll repeat it to anyone, that I overheard Marshall making plans for this evening with ‘baby’.

  Oh well, it’s a beautiful summer day, the weather is perfect for taking Jo down to the oceanfront, relaxing on the beach then grabbing some dinner down on the boardwalk later before we head home.

  Maybe we can do Doughboys California Pizza tonight; it’s a local franchise on the oceanfront. One that I’ve been in love with since I first discovered it four years ago. I’m sure Jo won’t argue with my choice, she’s been there plenty of times with me through the years after our trips to the beach.

  I slide my truck into a parking spot and notice that Jo’s car is in the one next to mine.

  That’s odd, she should still be at work for at least another hour.

  I’m expecting to walk into the normal scene when she’s home; you know, that damn pipsqueak dog of hers going nuts, the TV on, Jo vegging out on the couch, possibly with some sort of snack, usually a baked good, in her hand. Instead, I walk into a silent apartment. No sign of Jo or Chachi, the TV off and living room spotless.

  Immediately I’m on alert; something isn’t right. My plans for the afternoon at the waterfront are promptly cancelled. Whatever is going on, I know Jo needs me.

  I move through the house looking for her, but ultimately know where she is—tucked away in our bedroom. After clearing the kitchen and spare room, I walk up to our closed bedroom door and can hear the faint sounds of crying from the outside.

  I instantly know what this has to be about; her mom. Taking a deep breath, I turn the knob and push the door open. The sight before me damn near breaks me.

  Jo is lying in the fetal position with her face hidden in a pillow, sobbing. Chachi is curled up next to her stomach, his head resting against her knees. Trying to comfort her in his own canine way. The room matches the somber mood with the curtains drawn in, making it look much darker than what it really is outside.

  My heart breaks for Jo; she looks so fragile and broken. In a flash of pain, I realize this is what she went through when she miscarried and feeling alone. I can’t imagine how hard either of these experiences must be to go through.

  I walk to my side of the bed and lie down facing her, scooting as close to her body as I can get. I put an arm on her back and start rubbing in circular motions.

  Being at a loss for words, and not a hundred percent sure what it is that’s happened, I simply comfort her.

  “It’s just not fair,” she chokes out after a few minutes. “Why her?” She pulls the front of my shirt trying to seek comfort anyway she can.

  With those words, I know what’s happened. I can’t even begin to understand what it would feel like to lose my mom and we aren’t nearly as close as Jo and Pat.

  “I know, Darlin’, I know. I hate this.” I wrap my arms around her and tuck her into my chest, hoping like hell I can protect her from this pain. She continues to sob while I gently rub her hair and back, desperately praying for help to get us both through this in one piece.

  Jo finally falls asleep in my arms after crying for what seemed like forever. I feel so helpless that I can’t do anything except hold her. There’s a carnal need inside me to be productive; to fix this or make it easier in any way, shape, or form.

  I carefully slide out of Jo’s grip and make my way into the kitchen to find my phone that was quickly discarded when I got home. I contemplate a text, but don’t believe this is a situation that should be discussed through messages.

  Scrolling through, I find Miguel’s name rather quickly. He and I have stayed in contact since we came home from California. What started off as informative texts about Pat has now blossomed into a friendship. We’ve texted a few times regarding sports, work, and other daily life things. This is the first time since we exchanged numbers that I’m dreading making contact.

  “Hello?” His voice sounds raspy. He was either sleeping or crying.

  “Hey, Miguel.”

  “Oh, hey J.C. What’s going on man? Jo tell you what’s happening?” I can hear him moving through wherever he is.

  “No, that’s why I was calling. I came home to her curled up in a ball, crying her eyes out. What the hell is going on?”

  “Fuck, I’m sorry man. I meant to text you after I talked to her, just got caught up with everything else. Mom isn’t doing good. She now has a hospice nurse here all the time and she pretty much only sleeps. When she is awake, she’s so doped up on the pain meds that she’s loony.” He takes a deep breath, releasing it before continuing. “Her nurses think it will be a matter of days before she goes. I told Jo she needed to get out here, as soon as possible.”

  The awareness of what he’s saying hits like a freight train; Pat’s dying. Within a matter of days, my wife will lose her mother.

  “You there man?” Miguel’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

  “Yeah, sorry. Uh, okay, I’ll figure out a flight and all that now. We’ll be there tomorrow, somehow, someway.”

  We hang up and I call Tegan. She’ll let everyone know what’s happening and can take care of Chachi for the weekend for us.

  Of course, she answers after two rings.

  “Hey, Bug. What’s goin’ on?”

  “Hey, J.C.” I can hear Reed mouthin’ off in the background as soon as my name leaves her lips. It’s become a j
oke that I typically love to jab at; he acts offended that his girl loves me and my southern accent more than him. But I don’t have time for that now.

  “I need a favor.” Tegan must realize the seriousness of this call, because she tells Reed to shut up when he pursues his joking.

  “What do you need?” I can hear the phone moving and then that echoing sound telling me she’s put me on speaker.

  It works, that means Reed will hear what’s going on, too, so I won’t have to repeat myself to another person. I still have to call Tess and Hunter, and Marshall as well.

  “Can you come get Chachi and keep him for a few days?”

  I hear her faint gasp before she answers, “Oh God. What’s happened?”

  Our entire group of friends have been on high alert since we told them about Pat’s declining health.

  “Pat’s not doing well at all. Jo’s older brother called her this afternoon to tell her she needs to get back. Now.”

  “Oh fuck...how is she doing?” Reed asks.

  I drag my hand across my face, the frustration that I cannot fix this still eating at me.

  “Not good. I came home to find her hunkered down in the bedroom. I held her for an hour while she cried. I feel helpless that I can’t take her pain away, y’all.”

  “J.C. you know that isn’t possible, man. The best thing you can do now is just be present. Be there for any and everything she needs. Not that you need to prove yourself to Jo, but I know you’ve carried guilt for not being around when she went through all that shit before, so be there now. She needs you to help her through this, just be with her. Love her. And try as hard as you can to protect her.”

  A couple stray tears roll down my cheeks, but I don’t bother to wipe them away. Just as Jo is struggling with this fucked up reality, I am too. I may not have been that close with Pat, but I’ve always thought we had a special bond. She never doubted me or my love for her daughter. She believed in us, in me, when I wasn’t worthy of her faith or her daughter’s love.

  Not knowing what to say back to Reed, I switch the topic.

  “Look, I gotta go. I still have to book a flight for us and I gotta call everyone else.” I start aimlessly tidying up the bar.

  “We’ll call Tess and Marsh,” Tegan says, “just get your flight set up and get back to Jo. I’ll come by and pick up Chachi tomorrow after work.”

  “Thanks, y’all. I appreciate it.” I push away the tears still threatening to fall. “I’ll let you guys know how everything goes.”

  “Okay, we love y’all,” she says.

  I hang up and stare at my phone until the thought hits me. More of an urge, I just need to call my mom, let her know that I love her and my dad both. I’ve heard countless times that old saying about tomorrow not being promised, but it’s never truly hit home for me. Not until now that I’m seeing it firsthand like this.

  The phone rings multiple times before mom’s voicemail picks up.

  “Hey there, this is Lucy. I can’t come to the phone right now but if you leave your name and number I’ll get back to ya. God Bless!”

  Her southern drawl that I normally don’t pay any mind to soothes my aching soul.

  “Hey Ma, I just wanted to call and say I love you. We, uh,” I clear my throat and once again fight against the tears trying to fall, “we just heard from Jo’s brother. It’s her mom, she’s uh, well she isn’t doing good, so I’m bookin’ us a flight back to California. Anyway, I just needed to hear your voice today. I’ll call you as soon as I get some time again. Love you.”

  I hang up the phone, both relieved that I didn’t have to answer any questions I know my mom would ask and defeated that I didn’t get some reassurance and guidance from her.

  I pull out my laptop and begin searching for the next available flight; price isn’t a concern at all. We just need to get to California as soon as we can.

  It doesn’t take me long, there’s a flight that leaves in five hours. We won’t land at LAX until one in the morning, but so be it. I shoot off a quick text letting Miguel know when to expect us then go back to our room where Jo is starting to stir.

  I sit on the edge of the bed just as she sits up.

  “Hey, how’re you feelin’?”

  She rubs her swollen eyes, her face is still splotchy from the tears.

  “Lost. What am I going to do without her, J.C.?”

  The truth is, I don’t know how to answer that question. I don’t know what to do without her.

  “Let’s just get out there, let’s focus on the now. She’s still here, still fighting. We need to get out there and be with her and your family.” She nods her head, so I continue. “I got us a flight, we leave in a few hours so we need to get packed and get to the airport. Tegan is coming to pick up Chachi tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” Her voice sounds robotic and her movements as she climbs out of bed and begins moving around the room are static.

  “Jo, we’re gonna get through this.”

  She nods her head and continues the task at hand.

  I send up a silent prayer that this doesn’t cause her to fall back into the dark place she was in. I hope this doesn’t cause me to lose my Jo again.

  J.C.

  The past two days have been uneventful. We’ve stayed at Jo’s mom’s house along with both of her brothers. Miguel’s wife, Christina, has come as often as she can in between running all of the errands for their three children. She’s also the one who’s kept us fed.

  Just like Miguel said, Pat mostly sleeps. And on the rare occasion that she is awake, her morphine is so strong that she’s barely coherent. We were fortunate that when we arrived she was still able to carry on a conversation.

  That last talk with her will forever be embedded in my mind. We were lucky she happened to be awake and lucid when we arrived from the airport. It was late, but it didn’t matter. We took the moment for what it was, a perfect opportunity.

  And from what it seems like, our last opportunity.

  I volunteered to stay back, give Jo that private few moments with Pat, but she refused to leave me.

  We stepped into Pat’s room, hand in hand and both of our grips tightened when we saw the state of my mother-in-law. Pat’s bed was replaced with a hospital bed and she was hooked up to oxygen. A blood pressure cuff was still attached to her arm. As if that wasn’t enough to take in, her physical appearance was the worst to accept. She no longer looked like Pat. In the three months since we last saw her, she appeared to have aged ten years. No longer does she bother with a wig, her smooth head now only covered with a beanie, her once full, beautiful face now gaunt and riddled with pain.

  “My Joey,” she said, her voice raspy, “and my son-in-law. I’m so glad you are here.”

  “Mom…” Jo let go of my hand and wrapped her arms around her mother. Her tears fell unashamedly.

  “Don’t cry, Mija. I’m okay, I will be okay.”

  “You can’t leave me, Mom. What am I supposed to do without you? I need you.”

  Pat cupped Jo’s chin and brought her eyes level with her own. “You live, sweetie. You take that man over there and you live. Make me even more proud of the woman you are and the wife and mother you will become. You don’t need me anymore, you need J.C. and you have him. Don’t let the loss of me blind you from seeing what’s in front of you.”

  She calmly wiped Jo’s eyes with her thumbs, let go of her and looked over at me expectantly.

  “Where is my hug?”

  A small smile graced my face and I hugged and kissed her.

  “Hey, you. Been causin’ any trouble lately?” Our typical opening line rolled out of my mouth without hesitation.

  “You know me, always up to something. Gotta keep things interesting around here,” she replied with a smile of her own.

  “Sit down, both of you. I want to spend some time with you.” Her speech had started to slur and I could tell she was fighting to stay awake.

  We sat with her
for about ten minutes, chatting about everyday, mundane topics until the hospice nurse, Kandice, came in to check on her once again. I helped Jo out of her seat and we both stepped over to the bedside to kiss Pat goodnight.

  Pat noticed my compass necklace when she bent down and placed a hand on it before looking over to Jo who lifted her arm to show she was wearing her matching bracelet as well.

  “So glad to see these being worn again. Julio would love it too.” She looked from the charms back to each of our faces. “Promise me you’ll take care of each other? Be each other’s due North, guide each other and never let the other get lost. Don’t let the silly fights or any of that stuff cause you to steer from the course you’re destined to be on.” Her voice was hoarse with sleep.

  We both nodded our agreements.

  “I only wish I could be here with you. I love you both.”

  “We love you, Mom,” Jo said on a broken breath with tears freely falling down her face.

  We made our exit and headed to our own bed.

  We haven’t spoken to Pat since. That was her last cogent conversation. Being here though, around Jo’s family, has helped Jo to cope with what’s happening.

  The next day, I find Jo sitting outside on the bench next to the rose garden I fixed just a few short months ago. Things between the two of us have improved so much. I don’t ever want to go back to that dark and depressing place with Jo again. I almost lost her last time from it; I fear if she falls back to that place again, no one will be able to pull her out.

  I sit down beside her and grasp her hand in mine after bringing it to my lips and placing a kiss to the palm.

  “You doing okay?”

  It seems like being with her family and seeing that, as hard as this is for all of us, it’s best for Pat, may be helping her come to terms with it. Not that when she does pass it won’t be a hard experience for us all.