Far from Perfect (Perfect, Indiana: Book One)

by Longley, Barbara

  Sweet Pea barked from somewhere behind the carriage house, and Ceejay slipped out through the kitchen door and made her way to the back. The deep cadence of Ted and Noah’s conversation drew her. She needed this, the sounds of normalcy. Life. Swallowing hard, she opened the back gate and rounded the corner. “What’re you all up to?”

  “Mommy!” Lucinda ran into Ceejay’s knees and threw her arms around her legs.

  Ceejay hugged her and surveyed the bay through the open doors. Noah and Ted were installing a washer and dryer on either side of the old washtub. A pile of new tools stacked in the middle of the concrete floor caught her eye. “Wow. What’s all this?”

  “Stuff for my workshop.” Noah sent her a smile. “We went shopping this morning.”

  Lucinda beamed up at her. “I’m helping.”

  “Oh, yeah? What’s your job?” She ran her hands through Lucinda’s silky curls, grounding herself in the feel of her daughter’s warmth.

  “I’m sweeping.” She let go and ran to pick up the child-size broom lying on the floor. “This is my broom. Uncle Noah said so.”

  Ceejay blinked back the sudden sting of tears as all the worry and stress she’d been under came surging to the forefront. Noah dropped what he was doing and came to her side. Wrapping his arms around her, he rocked her back and forth. She relaxed against him. “You’re all sweaty,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

  “I’ve been working in this heat most of the morning. Do you mind?”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist. “Nope.” Resting her cheek against his chest, she let all the fear and tension slip away. Peace stole over her, and she sighed. “Can I just stay here like this for the rest of the day?” Noah chuckled, and she loved the way the sound and vibration filled her.

  “Did Aunt Jenny wake up before you left?” Ted asked from behind the dryer vent he was taping.

  “No.” She moved out of Noah’s arms. “I sat with her for a while, though. Sheriff Maurer stopped by to see her too.”

  “That was nice of him.” Ted straightened up and wiped the sweat from his face with the hem of his T-shirt. “I came straight here after I left the hospital. There’s been a steady stream of neighbors stopping by to see if you need anything.”

  “I know.” She nodded. “I ran into the Webers on the way in, and I saw all the food in the kitchen.” The bane and blessing of small-town life—everyone knew everyone else’s business, but they also reached out a helping hand when trouble struck. “I have to get ready for work.” Two more shifts at Deaconess and she’d be free. She dearly needed the time off before her new job started. Jenny would need a lot of help while she recovered from her surgery. “Lucinda, you’re going to go to Uncle Jim and Aunt Mary’s with Ted tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning.”

  “I want to stay here wif Uncle Noah.”

  “I know you do, but—”

  “Let her stay in her own room.” Noah twined his fingers through hers. “I’ll sleep on a couch.”

  “We talked about it.” Ted tousled Lucinda’s hair. “I’ll stay too. OK, pipsqueak?”

  Lucinda nodded up at Ted.

  Ceejay glanced from one to the other and raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?” The two men nodded in tandem. “All right. Call your folks, Ted, and let them know.” She turned to Noah. “We have five bedrooms. You don’t have to sleep on the couch. Ted knows where the sheets and blankets are kept.”

  She crouched down to Lucinda’s level. “I need a hug before I go to work.” Lucinda rushed into her arms, almost knocking her over. She held her daughter tight. “You be good for Uncle Noah and Ted, all right?”

  “I will, Mommy. You don’t gotta worry about me.”

  “I’ll walk you back to the house.” Noah reached out and helped her up.

  The feel of his strong, callused hand around hers settled her like nothing else could. She nodded, and he led her toward the house.

  “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m all right. The surgery went really well, and tomorrow she’ll be moved into a regular room.”

  “That’s good. I’ll head over for a visit.”

  “She’d like that.”

  “Are you going to bring Lucinda to see her?”

  “I don’t think so. A hospital is no place for an active four-year-old, and Jenny will be home in a few days.”

  “All right.” They’d reached the back door, and Noah drew her into his arms.

  He kissed her. Despite all the worries she carried, her insides melted and all thought left her. God bless this man.

  The pathologist found cancerous cells in two lymph nodes. The oncologist’s words echoed through Ceejay’s head until it hurt—until the pounding accented each word individually. Ceejay gripped her purse against her chest and hurried into the hospital lobby. She jabbed at the elevator button and tried to breathe.

  Why would the oncologist want to meet with her? Shouldn’t he be meeting with Jenny? Her stomach lurched as the elevator started to climb. She glanced at the crumpled piece of paper in her hand, reciting the room number where she would find him.

  The doors whooshed open, and she stepp and her eyes grew brightIt ced out. Arrows and numbers pointed the way. Why was she rushing to hear bad news? She forced herself to slow down and headed in the direction the arrows indicated. Stopping before the partially opened door, she straightened and knocked.

  “Ms. Lovejoy, come in.” Dr. Johnson wiped a napkin over his mouth and gestured her into the tiny office. A boxed lunch sat on his desk, with a half-eaten ham sandwich lying on the waxed wrapping paper. “I was just grabbing something to eat. I hope you don’t mind. Some days it’s lucky if I find any time at all for a meal.”

  “No, I don’t mind.” The doctor had impressed her the first time they’d met. The middle-aged oncologist had seemed genuinely caring when they’d gone over the possible outcomes with her aunt. His warm, brown eyes now regarded her with an expression of concern as she took the chair beside his desk. “Why did you want to see me? Shouldn’t my aunt be a part of this meeting?”

  “I’ve already met with her.” He leaned back in his chair. “She’s refusing any further treatment.”

  Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline, and her heart knocked against her sternum.

  “It’s not uncommon,” he continued. “She’s in shock right now. I wanted to meet with you because I’m certain nothing I said got through in her present state. Cancer treatments have improved greatly over the past decade, and your aunt’s prognosis is still very good. I want to order some tests to see if there are any hot spots, and—”

  “Hot spots?”

  He nodded. “Cancer cells reproduce much more rapidly than normal cells. This generates heat, which can be detected by—”

  “I get it,” she snapped, and buried her face in her hands. “I’m sorry, Dr. Johnson. I...I need a minute to absorb all of this.”

  “Understandable.”

  She drew in a breath and sat up. “The important thing here is that she’s refusing further treatment, right?”

  He nodded. “I’m hoping you can persuade her to change her mind.”

  “I’ll do my best.” She rose from the chair. “I’ll go talk to her now.”

  “If I can be of any help, or if you have any questions, please call me.” He stood up and handed her a business card. “We’ll want to begin her first round of chemotherapy soon.”

  First round? Shit. That sounded way too serious. Ceejay nodded and walked out of the tiny room and down the hall toward the elevators.

  “Ms. Lovejoy,” he called and hurried toward her. “Your purse.”

  “Oh...thanks.” She took her bag from him and headed for the bank of elevators. Her mind had gone blank, and shock held her firmly in its grip. She stared at the row of double metal doors without really seeing and waited for one of the elevators to open.

  Walking out of the elevator and down the hall toward her aunt’s room, she knew she couldn’t leave Perfect. No way would she allow
Jenny to face chemotherapy alone. She swiped a tear away. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not to Jenny. They’d caught it early, gotten all of the tumor during surgery. Her aunt had done everything right. Why had it all gone so wrong?

  A weight the chair across from her. p c p bhad settled into her midsection the day the word biopsy had entered her life. Every day since, the space inside grew to accommodate the growing mass until the sheer bulk made eating and breathing impossible.

  Knocking lightly on the door, Ceejay called out, “Hey, is it OK to come in?” Jenny had been moved to double-occupancy room with nothing but a curtain separating the two beds. She didn’t want to interrupt someone’s sponge bath or dressing change.

  “No one here but me,” Jenny replied. “Come on in.”

  Expelling the breath she’d been holding, Ceejay entered. An explosion of color filled Jenny’s side of the room. Mylar balloon get well messages swayed in the air, stirred by her entrance. Red, gold, and blue ribbons dangled from the floating globes. Flowers in vases and foil-wrapped pots filled every flat surface. Cheery get well soon cards had been propped open on top of the heating and cooling unit under the window. “Wow, look at all this.”

  Jenny stared at the ceiling, nodding slightly. “Folks from the diner stopped by, and neighbors.” She turned toward her. “Noah brought the roses.”

  Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name. “They’re gorgeous. Has Sheriff Maurer been by?”

  “He has, but I was sleeping.” Jenny shifted in the bed and winced. “He left the box of chocolates and a card. Do you want a piece?”

  “No, not now. Here, let me help you.” She rushed to her side. “What do you need?”

  “I’m tired of being flat on my back.”

  Her aunt’s surly tone brought on a rush of empathy. Her nursing instincts kicked in, and she automatically checked the IV, giving it a click to send a surge of pain medication. She pressed the button to raise the back of the bed and held her aunt forward to place a pillow behind her for added support. “Is that better?”

  Jenny nodded and swallowed. Moving a pile of magazines from the lone chair beside the bed, Ceejay took a seat. “I met with Dr. Johnson. He says you’re refusing more treatment.”

  “Did he also tell you the cancer has spread? They found it in my lymph nodes. You know what that means.”

  “Unless you agree to have more tests done, nobody knows what that means.”

  “It’s spreading.” Jenny pressed her head back against the pillows. A single tear slipped out of the corner of her eye and trickled down her cheek.

  Ceejay couldn’t bear to see her cry. She moved out of the chair to stand before the window. “You have to fight this.”

  “Don’t see the point. Chemotherapy makes you sick as a dog, and I don’t know of anybody who’s ever defeated the grim reaper forever. Do you?”

  “Tons of people have survived cancers far worse than yours. Finding cancerous cells in your lymph system means you need follow-up treatment to prevent the spread. It’s not a death sentence, Jenny. You have so much to live for, and...we need you. Lucinda and I need you.” Her words filled the room and hung in the air like the Mylar balloons.

  She stared out the window at the cars filling the parking lot below and murmured, “One, two, three, four—”

  “Do you remember when you started counting things eyes were riveted on heromethingpe?”

  Ceejay shook her head. “Five, six, seven...” She’d count all the red cars first, leaving the trucks for later.

  “When you were little, and you got upset, I’d tell you to count to ten.” Jenny sighed. “You took that advice to heart in a big way. You were such a cute little thing.”

  Eight, nine, ten...

  “I have a will. I’m leaving the house to you, and—”

  “Stop it!” Ceejay swung around to face her. “Don’t talk like this. I don’t want the house. What I want is for you to snap out of this doom-and-gloom outlook and fight, dammit!”

  Jenny blinked rapidly, and more tears leaked out. Her lips compressed, turning down at the corners.

  Shit. She’d done that. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Ceejay swiped at the tears flooding her own eyes. “Dr. Johnson says your reaction is normal. You’re in shock. You have to change the direction your thoughts are taking you. You’re young, and other than the...the...” She sucked in a huge breath. “Other than this, you’re very strong and healthy. There’s absolutely no reason why you can’t beat this.”

  “Come and sit down, Little Bit.” Jenny gestured to the chair. “There’s something else we need to discuss.”

  Oh, God. Her insides tumbled. She turned back to the cars in the lot, back to numbers, innocuous and infinite. “What?”

  “Your mother—”

  A strangled cry broke free. “Don’t want to talk about her.” She circled her arms around herself.

  “I know. We’re going to anyway. You’re a grown woman with a daughter of your own. It’s time you got past this.”

  “Past this? How does one get past being abandoned by her own mother?”

  “My sister did not abandon you. She loved you so much she was willing to put herself through hell to turn her life around. She wanted so badly to get herself straightened out.” The hospital sheets rustled. “Something happened to her that first year she was away at college. Someone broke her heart and her spirit.”

  “My biological sperm donor, no doubt.”

  “Maybe. Shortly after that, she took up with the wrong crowd. Thank God she didn’t start using until after you were born.”

  “Sure.” All the anger and resentment simmering below the surface clawed at her insides. All the little-girl hurt that had never healed rose up and swallowed her whole.

  “Anyway, Ann contacted me. She’d been waiting for space in this brand-new drug rehab program, and they finally had a room for her. I hadn’t seen her so hopeful and determined to turn her life around for a long time.” Jenny’s voice broke. “She asked me to take care of you so she could kick her addiction, get herself clean, and be the mother to you she dearly longed to be.”

  “And then she took off,” Ceejay spit out the words scalding her throat.

  “No. She didn’t.”

  She turned to face her aunt. “OK, then. She just never came back for me. Does that sound better to you and her eyes grew brightnuA4? Because it doesn’t sound any different to me.”

  “Honey, your mom died of an accidental heroin overdose the night before she was to enter rehab.”

  “No.” Ceejay shook her head as her heart pounded against her ribs. “No.”

  “You don’t remember her funeral, but you were there.” Jenny gestured to the chair again. “Every time any of us brought your mom up, you’d pitch a fit. I’m sorry. Maybe we did the wrong thing. We all loved you so much, and seeing you so upset...” Her mouth turned down again. “We all agreed not to bring her up anymore.”

  Ceejay slid into the chair. Her mind flooded with images—fragments of memory flashed through her head. Her mother, so young and terribly thin, petite and blonde like Jenny.

  “Your mother didn’t leave you on purpose.” Jenny stared at her. “You see?”

  Somewhere during the conversation, she’d lost the ability to respond. Hell, it was all she could do to keep herself together, but her aunt needed something from her, so she nodded.

  “I know how important it is for you to have your chance at a life in the big city. I want you to go ahead with your plans to move. Leaving Perfect means so much to you, and I don’t want my being sick to interfere. My brothers will take care of me. I’ve already talked to them about this, and—”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t...wow, that’s...this is a lot to...to take in.” Ceejay shoved out of the chair and grabbed her purse from the floor. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” She leaned over and kissed her aunt on the cheek and hurried to the door.

  “Ceejay, wait,” her aunt called.

  “Tomorrow, Jenny, and when I retu
rn, I want to hear you’re ready to fight this. No more talk about leaving me the house, or my uncles taking my place as your caregiver. Got it? I’m a nurse.” She blinked back her tears. “I’ll come pick you up tomorrow. Call me once your discharge papers are all signed.”

  She rushed out of the room and shut the door behind her before Jenny could say any more. Leaning against the wall, she struggled to slow her heart to a normal rhythm, then pushed off to walk to the small waiting room at the end of the corridor. Once there, she sank into a seat and leaned her head back to stare at the black dots floating in front of her eyes.

  Maybe putting her head down would be wiser. Leaning over, she inhaled through her nose and exhaled through her mouth until the dizziness ebbed. Ceejay straightened, pulled her cell phone out of her purse, and called Sheriff Maurer on his private cell phone.

  “Harlen, this is Ceejay. We got the report from the pathologist, and...I...I need your help.” Ceejay raked her free hand through her hair and brought him up to speed on everything that had happened with her aunt’s diagnosis and the talk she’d had with the oncologist. Once he assured her he’d come talk to her aunt right away, she hung up and headed for the parking lot. Lord, she was glad Lucinda was spending the day with the Offermeyers. She needed time alone to process everything.

  Her mother hadn’t left her. She’d loved her enough to get help. All the years she believed and her eyes grew brights. c p beveryone in Perfect pitied her because she’d been the poor unwanted child...had they all known the truth? She unlocked her car and sighed. Of course they knew, and like her family, they believed they were protecting her by keeping it a secret. She understood. Her mother had been a drug addict, and they had all tried to buffer her from that stigma.

  People in Perfect made it their business to know, and it didn’t mean they hadn’t pitied her, only that the pity sprang from a different place. Still, the altered perspective kept poking at her brain. She’d lost her mom at an early age, but not because her mother hadn’t wanted or loved her as she’d always believed. That changed things, and she’d have to think about it.