Journey

by Karina Sharp

  In the arms of the ocean, deliver me

  And it’s over and I’m going under

  Chapter 26

  Jack

  Weeks go by with little to no contact from Jenny. Together, Journey and I decided to give Jenny her space as she has a lot of things to work out for herself. We reassured her we were here for her; she just needed to call or text. One hot, September Tuesday, Journey texts me to tell me she heard from Jenny and that she told her parents about her pregnancy. She relayed that Jenny has been doing a lot of decision making. She also told Journey that she would try to stop by sometime this week.

  Another week goes by with no word from Jenny. In the meantime, Journey and I spend time renovating the guest house and visiting my parents. Their health has greatly improved, and as soon as the house is ready, they will be ready to move back in and gain some independence. My mother’s wrist has healed and my father is on a medication with promising results. He’s more lucid than he was prior to starting the medicine. Their health and outlook in general is on the upswing. There’s a phenomenon that happens to people, regardless of age or health condition, that when they are informed they are or almost made to be ill and dependent, they become as such, resulting in a self-fulfilling prophecy. They also become institutionalized, losing hope and drive to work, stay active, and healthy, because they believe their future is in a home. I would find it hard to be happy and able to keep my mind sharp and active if I thought the remainder of my years would be spent helpless and miserable.

  One balmy Friday evening, the doorbell rings unexpectedly, and I open the door to see Jenny standing before me. Jenny’s hair has an even brighter golden sheen than before, but her eyes look tired and worried. I quickly invite her in and give her a big hug.

  Journey calls from the bedroom, “Who is it?”

  Jenny grins and puts her index finger to her lips, signaling to me to remain quiet. She creeps through the foyer, past the stairs, and pauses beside the door outside of the master bedroom. She jumps around the corner and yells, “Boo! BooBoo!”

  Journey squeals both due to being startled and out of excitement. “It is like seeing a ghost! Come here, you! I’ve missed you. What have you been up to?”

  Jenny sits on the bed next to Journey, and I sit at the foot, on the edge. They hug as if it’s been years since they’ve seen one another.

  “So much has gone on, and I’ll fill you in later, but don’t you appreciate my homonym?”

  “Oh, you mean your ‘surprise for someone special?’”

  Jenny laughs, “Exactly. I’ve missed you guys like crazy!”

  “I’ve missed you more!” Journey exclaims. “Let’s go sit by the pool, it’s a perfect night for it. You want something to drink?”

  Jenny’s brows furrow and she points to her now slightly rounded stomach.

  “I meant water or something, goofball. I wouldn’t offer you alcohol anyway, young lady.” Journey winks at Jenny and they gallivant through the house, to the back patio as I follow their lead.

  We take our seats outside and feel the night air sway around us. “It’s good to see you again,” I tell Jenny.

  “I know I’ve been M.I.A. lately, but I just had some details to work out, you know?”

  “I understand. You’ve had some pretty tough decisions to make lately.”

  “Tell me about it.” Jenny pulls her hair into a ponytail and relaxes into her seat with an exhale. “Obviously, I’ve had to postpone college.”

  “You’re welcome to come back and work at the office. Teresa needs more help anyway.”

  “Thank you, Journey. I was hoping you would want me back.”

  “Why would I not want you back?”

  “I don’t know. I just didn’t want to be a burden.”

  “You could never be a burden. I will always want you around. Have you visited the OB yet?”

  “That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. I haven’t gone yet. It just took me so long to decide how I wanted to handle this whole thing, and I’ve kind of been in denial of what’s really happening, but I need to see the doctor.”

  “I’ll set it up for you. In the meantime, I’m not an OB, but I can examine you and there’s an off-chance I can let you hear the baby’s heartbeat.”

  “Really?” Jenny’s voice drips with trepidation.

  “Yeah. Actually, hang here one sec.”

  Journey sashays into the house and returns with a stethoscope in hand. She places the large end on Jenny’s stomach, concentrating as she moves it around until her lips spread into a wide smile. “Listen.”

  Jenny’s eyes move between Journey’s and mine and she slowly places the other ends of stethoscope into her ears. Her breath quickens and she breathes shallow, nervous breaths in conjunction with some laughter. “That’s the heartbeat?”

  “Yup.”

  “Oh, goodness. This makes everything so...real. Oh my. I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything, sweetie. Just listen and take it all in.”

  Jenny continues to smile and breathe, trying to make sense of everything she’s experiencing. I watch Journey delicately, but confidently, tend to Jenny and I take in her expression of wonder as well.

  It’s at this very moment that I decide it’s time to start shopping for a ring. I have no doubts and nothing keeping me back. I’ve known I wanted to marry Journey for quite some time, but seeing her overjoyed like she is now confirms that not only do I want her, I need her. She’s not my companion for the future; she is my future.

  Jenny subtly pats her ever expanding belly. She’s just as petite as Journey and built exactly the same. I imagine that’s how Journey might look when she’s pregnant and the thought fills me with immeasurable anticipation.

  Chapter 27

  October

  Journey

  Apple picking is officially one of my most favorite fall activities. New England has some of the best orchards in the country, and my favorite apple, the Macintosh, is in season. Jack, Jenny, and I walk throughout the rows of apple trees, seeking the perfect specimens hanging from the branches, removing them, and dropping them in our baskets. When we’ve had our fill of apple picking, we sit on the grass near a small pond, and I pull an apple out of my basket with the perfect green to red ratio.

  “I just thought of one! Sachet sashay,” Jenny exclaims.

  “Good homophone. I don’t have an item or something it can be. Jack?”

  “Hmmm… This is a tougher one. If I remember correctly, and don’t you dare laugh at me, but I think a sashay is a square dancing step, is it not?”

  Jenny and I erupt into major belly laughs. I laugh so hard, I snort a little.

  “What’s so funny?” Jack asks, unamused.

  “I have to know, babe. How do you know anything about square dancing?”

  “I know a lot of things, dear. A man of mystery I am. Also, I once went to a summer camp where we had to learn square dancing. My partner and I won the contest, thank you very much.” Jack rocks back and folds his arms across his chest.

  “Oh! Oh! Show me!” Jenny raises her hand as if wanting to be called upon by a teacher.

  “I don’t know if you deserve for me to impart my knowledge upon you. I have some mad skills. Are you sure you can handle it?”

  “I think I can manage.” Jenny stands, with a protruded stomach, beckoning Jack to join her. “Now, do I curtsey or something first?”

  “Yes, you stand across from me, and I bow to your curtsey. Typically, there’s someone who calls out the steps and then you perform them. The faster they call them out, the harder it is to keep up.”

  I watch, in between laughter, as Jack skips in a circle with his arm hooked in Jenny’s. He also leads her into positions where their arms wind up in front of them, behind their heads, and up into a bridge position. Jenny looks as though she’s having the time of her life, laughing and goading Jack. The southern accent Jack attempts is adorable. I haven’t seen him so relaxed and
comfortable with someone else around in a really long time. He’s still the same Jack I fell for those many years ago, but as he peels away the shrouds of privacy he’s put around himself, he’s more than I could ever ask for. I never thought myself capable of being so unselfish as well as loving someone so deeply. I guess we are all full of surprises.

  “Today was a lot of fun,” Jack tells me as he brushes his teeth.

  “She’s funny. We need to have her over for dinner again soon.”

  “I think so too. She’s struggling with the pregnancy, which is understandable, but she never mentions being able to talk to her family about it.”

  “You know families like hers, babe. They don’t like to acknowledge anything that might tarnish the family name.”

  “I know. It’s just such a shame. She’s a great girl who could really make something of herself if she tried. I’m still working with the coach at Kentucky to see if she can try out for a scholarship after she has the baby.”

  “You’re so thoughtful. I’m sure she has a lot on her plate right now. Is she still refusing to say who the father is?”

  “Yeah, and she still won’t seek out an actual Obstetrician.”

  “That’s her choice to make, but hopefully she will change her mind soon.”

  Journey’s understanding and concern about Jenny creates the warmth of millions of smiles inside of me.

  *****

  November

  Journey

  The buzz of my cell awakens me in the early hours of Sunday morning. I look at the clock; it turns out to be not as early as it feels. 8AM. Damn. My parents are staying with us and insist talking all hours of the night, so this is prime weekend sleeping in time. Picking up my phone to view my message, I rub my eyes open, witnessing Jack still passed out like a light. The sheets are wrapped around his waist, but leave his acutely toned chest and ripped stomach exposed, so I admire the view for a moment. So much has happened lately, we haven’t really had many extended moments to spare to commit to nudity and naughtiness. My eyes run down the indention in the middle of his stomach to the small trail of hair just below his belly button, but the sheet stops me from seeing anything more. Alas…

  My attention returns to my phone and the message that initially alerted me into the conscious realm. I enter my password and see the text is from Teresa. She doesn’t usually contact me on the weekends, unless it’s an emergency.

  Journey, there’s something you should see.

  I yawn and lazily type back:

  So sleepy. Grrr… What is it?

  My phone lights back up and on my screen is a picture of me from when I was in college. In my crazy days. In a magazine. Naked.

  WTF?!? Where did you find that?

  My phone rings this time, causing Jack to stir.

  I struggle to silence it and answer. “Hello?”

  “Journey, you really, really should see this.”

  “I know, I know. I did some crazy stuff in college, including posing for an adult magazine. I was hoping no one would recognize-”

  “No, Journey. I’m not the only one looking at it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that it’s printed and plastered on posters and flyers around town.”

  “WHAT???!!!!” I shriek, storming out of my bedroom. Jack is not far behind me.

  “What’s wrong?” Jack asks me, still in a sleepy stupor.

  I ignore him and continue to pace around the house. “Shit on a stick. Who did it? And why?”

  “I think we all know-”

  “Fosters,” I interrupt Teresa.

  “Yeah,” Teresa says solemnly.

  I stop pacing long enough to catch the eyes of Jack. His head is cocked to the side, and he looks angry. “What about the Fosters?”

  “Well...sweetie… Remember I told you that when I was in college, I picked a massive bouquet of oopsie daisies?” I bite my lip nervously.

  “Uh huh…” Jack says deliberately, eyeing me.

  “So…umm…”

  My dad enters the room, newspaper in one hand and a bright flier in the other. My panic reaches Threat Level Red as my eyes dart back and forth between my dad and Jack.

  “Oh god,” I exhale.

  “Journey Marguerite Ferrer, I knew this would come back to haunt you somehow.”

  Jack’s head snaps around to my father, holding up a piece of paper with a large, colorful picture of me, gracing the pages of a magazine. At least they had the sense to censor the pictures.

  “You’re a doctor and a grown woman. And a cheerleading coach, for Christ’s sake.”

  My father’s face is full of disappointment and embarrassment.

  Why me? Okay, I know why me, but why now?

  “Fucking Fosters,” Jack sneers. “I will kill them.”

  “That’s probably not the best plan there ever was,” I caution him.

  My father and Jack snap into professional publicist team mode and begin talking very quickly between themselves.

  “You think it was them?” my dad asks.

  “It had to be. One of them was the Editor-In-Chief of the paper until I bought it and fired him.”

  “Pathetic. All of them.”

  “They always have been. I’ve never known them to be anything but.”

  “Monsters…” my dad says as he looks over to me.

  Me, his little girl. I was once that tiny sleeping being curled in his arms as he rocked me. I now understand the full consequences of my actions, but I can’t change them now. My bottom lip quivers as I evaluate my situation- everything I’ve been trying to move past and rise above is staring me right in the face.

  “Daddy,” comes out of my mouth as my father comes over to me and pulls me into him in a soothing way. “I’m so sorry to embarrass you like this again, Dad.”

  “I know you are, baby girl. I was never really upset with you to begin with, I just feared something like this would happen. You were young and you’re always been a free spirit, which is why people love you, but I knew you would want a professional life, and I didn’t want this to hinder it. Regardless, this is not right for anyone to do to you, especially my little girl. We will fix this.”

  “I don’t know if we can.”

  “We can, and we will,” my father assures me as he squeezes his arms tighter. “I’m going to make some phone calls. We’re going to fight fire with fire.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask warily.

  “You’ll see.” He kisses me on the top of the head and releases his embrace. “Jack?” he beckons as he walks into the study.

  “Right behind you.” Jack walks over to me and takes my hands in his. I look up to him, teary-eyed. “Don’t worry, everything will be fine, and they will get what they have coming.”

  “Thank you, so much.” I stand on my toes and give him a peck on the lips. “And, Jack?”

  “Yes, babe?”

  “Fuck them up. With something hard and sandpapery.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  ***

  Someone called a meeting or assembly for the community to confront me and decide whether or not I’m still fit to be a coach here, or a doctor for that matter. I’m not quite sure as to the purpose of the assembly, but I assume it’s so I can be raked over the coals. Regardless, I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m a tough girl, and I can own up to anything I’ve done over a decade ago.

  I stand at the podium inside a local auditorium, aptly named after the Fosters, because Kleinert Town Hall wasn’t large enough to accommodate the people in attendance to this meeting to “investigate” and publicly decide what the town would do about this “controversy.” They call it a non-partisan assembly, but I call it a Come-to-Jesus meeting. People are packed into the room, wall-to-wall, and it’s standing room only. Finally, my past carelessness has caught up with me in the ugliest of ways. Everyone now knows I’ve not only willingly posed in a magazine for all to see, but I also am part of mail-order porn. Well, sort of, porn…


  Having decided that I’m going to face the problem head-on, I don’t give anyone the chance to get things started. I walk straight up to the podium on the small stage at the front of the room and deliberately clear my throat. The murmur of the crowd dies down, and I begin to speak.

  “We’ve all done things of which we are not proud, and we all make stupid mistakes, especially when we are young. I did these things because, at the time, I couldn’t fathom my future beyond a few months’ time. I didn’t realize how actions that seemed like pretty benign decisions at the time can turn out to be quite cancerous and continue to linger, poisoning your reputation, without you even knowing it. But, you must know that these decisions do not define me, nor do they remotely describe who I am as a person- not then, and especially not now.”

  A hush moves over the crowd until one voice speaks out.

  “I want to know how we can have a woman like this in our community with such a sordid past.” A middle-aged woman I don’t recognize is standing, scowling at me. “How can we expect for her to be a good example to our children? This is simply reprehensible, and there’s no excuse for such poor decisions.”

  I’m holding back tears with all of my might and biting my lip hard to keep it from visibly quivering. As I swallow down the heaviness that’s clogging my throat so that I can give my rebuttal, someone states, “I have something to say.”

  All eyes and heads turn to see Erwin Kettler standing. Silence ensues, and I know that I’m about to have my ass handed to me.

  He continues in his very strong New England accent. “Everyone makes stupid decisions. About thirty-five years ago, someone stole the life-size baby Jesus from the Nativity on the lawn of First Baptist and sent them a ransom note. That person was me.”