With Dayna wondering where this conversation was going and for how much longer, Brent launched into more details about their respective jobs and hobbies, and about how Tamara’s widowed mother had moved from Michigan to Florida last year after visiting in January and deciding she could no longer endure arctic-cold winters.
“We don’t have kids, so she takes care of us like we’re her babies,” Brent said and grinned.
Was she imagining it, or did Tamara flinch?
It struck Dayna that Tamara must feel as much “on stage” as she did this evening, with Brent going on and on like this was a happy high school reunion.
“So,” Dayna said, changing the subject from children, just in case her eyes hadn’t betrayed her, “you guys live about forty minutes from here. How do you know this part of central Florida so well?”
“I’m taking classes at UCF’s Cocoa campus, not far from where we live,” Tamara said, “but every now and then I need to come up here to the main campus for a class, so I know my way around pretty well. Plus, we travel as much as we can, even within the state. On weekends, we’ll just get in the car and go find a new beach or restaurant or place to shop.”
Brent chimed in. “It’s been fun, and even though we’ve lived here five years, we haven’t run out of cities to explore. We’ve got some favorite spots, like South Beach, but there are still new areas to discover.”
Dayna was surprised that learning about the life they had settled into didn’t faze her.
When Austin returned and offered to present the dessert cart for their viewing, Dayna and Tamara simultaneously declined. Dayna pondered whether she and Tamara shared the same reason — they’d gotten along well so far, but it was time to go.
“The ladies win, I guess,” Brent told him. “You can bring the check whenever you’re ready.”
Tamara glanced at Brent. “I’m going to the ladies room, okay?”
Dayna read between the lines. With Tamara gone, Brent could now render the big apology he had in mind.
When his wife was out of sight, he cleared his throat and leaned toward Dayna. “I really want to thank you for taking time to join us tonight, Dayna. You didn’t have to do this, and I know you probably didn’t want to.”
Dayna raised an eyebrow. “How did you know?”
Brent chuckled. “Let’s see … the three returned letters, the cold shoulder when I dropped off the roses, and the slap across the face said it pretty clearly.”
What could she say? “At least I came,” she finally mustered.
“Well, I won’t hold you much longer. There is a specific reason I asked you to meet with me.”
The sentence hung in the air like a drumroll. Brent leaned forward. “Dayna, sometimes things happen in life and we realize we need to take a good look at ourselves and take responsibility for the choices we’ve made and how we’ve treated people; give thanks for the good stuff …”
“Say sorry for the bad stuff.” Dayna completed his sentence with a wry smile.
Brent smiled too. “We used to finish each other’s sentences like that all the time, didn’t we?” he said. “Yes, you’re right — say sorry for the bad stuff. And I’ve done some bad stuff to you that I need to apologize for.”
He reached for her hand and Dayna hesitated. He noticed and withdrew. “That’s okay. I just wanted to take your hand and formally say I’m sorry. You were a good wife. You didn’t do anything to push me away. I was young and arrogant, and I just got caught up with the flattery and attention offered by someone else. I was wrong.”
Before she could help herself, Dayna rattled off a comeback. “But you not only cheated, Brent. You left me for her. You married her. You’re still married to her.”
Brent nodded and glanced toward the bathroom. Dayna knew he was wondering how soon Tamara would return. She was curious too.
“Yes, I’m still married to her. I love her, Dayna. But I loved you too, and I was wrong in the way I went about it all. You and I … we were college kids when we got together. We were still finding our way. I think I got too comfortable, and when Tamara came along, she was new and different and exciting. No excuses for my behavior. I was wrong, and I guess I really didn’t deserve you. Or, better put, you deserved better than me.”
Dayna nodded. “I did, didn’t I?”
Still, she felt relieved to hear that she hadn’t done anything to push him away. Instead, it sounded like her error had been in not fighting harder to keep him. Maybe she had handed him over to Tamara too quickly.
She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Brent, I accept your apology tonight, since it means so much to you, but I want you to know that I forgave you a long time ago. I had to if I was going to move forward with my life. I was angry and bitter at you and at Tamara for a long, long time. Here she was, a new friend to both of us, and she betrayed me. And you allowed her to. I just couldn’t believe it. I trusted you completely. I mean, you didn’t cheat on me when you were the college jock — at least I never got wind of it — but six years into our marriage, when I thought we were solid, you stepped out just because the opportunity presented itself?”
Brent’s eyes reflected a sea of regret. “You’re right. But I can’t turn back time. I know I did wrong by you, and in some ways, I’ve done wrong by Tamara, because she deserved to be married to someone who wasn’t coming out of another relationship.”
Dayna was intrigued by what he was hinting at regarding his marriage, but decided not to go there.
Brent continued. “We’re here now because I don’t want to die with any more regrets, without saying all the things I need to say, especially to you.”
Dayna’s heart hopscotched. “What are you saying, Brent?”
He leaned forward and exhaled. “Two years ago I went into the hospital for an appendectomy, of all things. While I was there, they did a full checkup and discovered that I had prostate cancer. It had gone undetected for quite a while. I started treatments right away, but they told me last November that my outlook is bleak. The cancer has progressed to stage four.”
Dayna’s head was spinning. “What are you saying, Brent? Prostate cancer is curable, especially in a man your age. Aren’t you in treatment?”
Her nursing stats ran through her mind. Yes, more and more African American men were being diagnosed, and the earlier they caught it, the better. Remission was probable more often than not. But Brent was saying his was too far gone. This couldn’t be right; he was way younger than most terminal patients.
“I’m not in treatment, Dayna. The cancer has spread to my bones, and I’m dying. In November they declared that I have six to nine months to live, but it could be longer, depending on how fast-growing my cancer is. That’s why I had to see you. To tell you I’m sorry and that you’ll always mean a lot to me. Yes, I’m married to Tamara, and I love my wife. But you were my first love, and I shouldn’t have shattered you the way I did. Lots of people don’t get a chance to ask for forgiveness. This is one of the things I needed to do before it was too late. So thank you.”
Tears streamed from Dayna’s eyes before she could stop them. She used the linen napkin in her lap to staunch the flow. “Brent …”
Her thoughts were racing. She had returned all of his letters unopened. What if he hadn’t been bold enough to show up at her house? What if she had refused to join him for this dinner?
Yes, he had been wrong, but had she not given him this chance, he wouldn’t have been able to tell her that she’d done nothing to hurt him in their marriage.
“I’m so sorry, Brent. Tamara …?” She looked toward the bathroom and saw that Tamara had emerged and had purposely wandered over to a bank of windows to take in the view so they could finish their conversation. When she turned toward the table and saw Dayna’s tear-streaked face, she strolled toward them.
Dayna didn’t know what to say or do when Tamara reached the table. Tamara stood awkwardly next to Brent, then leaned forward and grasped Dayna’s hand.
�
�You okay?” Tamara asked.
Dayna nodded. “The news just caught me off guard. Are you okay? You and Brent?”
Instead of answering, Tamara gazed at her husband.
Brent looked from one woman to the other. “We take each day as it comes, you know,” he said. “Some days I’m fine and it’s hard to believe; other days I’m doubled over in pain, wondering if I need to give the chemo and radiation a try.”
“Why don’t you?” Dayna asked. “You’re a young man. It may work better than they anticipate. You can’t give up!”
Brent shook his head, and Tamara slid into her chair next to him and draped her arm across his shoulder.
“I’m with you, Dayna. I don’t want to lose him. But we’ve gotten a second, third, and even a fourth opinion. The cancer is so advanced and so aggressive, the treatment would make him sick and he’d still have a short life span.”
Brent continued. “I’ve decided to spend my final days doing what I want to do, rather than recovering from medicine that’s only prolonging the inevitable and making my time here miserable. If there were a shred of hope that the treatments would make a difference, I’d give it a try, even for just a few more months with Tamara. But right now, that doesn’t seem to be God’s will.”
Dayna was reeling. Now Brent’s persistence made sense. And Tamara’s understanding.
“I don’t know what to say, other than I’m so sorry.”
“I am too,” Brent said. His eyes softened. “I’ve been furious, in denial, and everything in between. But now I’m at the point of accepting that I have a lot to be thankful for, and tonight is one of the major things on that list.”
Dayna fell silent, wishing Austin would interrupt them with the dessert cart despite their begging off. How did you carry on a conversation with someone who was dying and planning his final days? She had helped quite a few patients transition during her years as a nurse, but this was the man she had once planned on spending her life with — until death do them part. It was unsettling to realize how soon that time would have come to an end for them had she been sitting in Tamara’s seat.
She had grieved over losing Brent in a different way seven years earlier; now it looked like Tamara would have her turn.
Dayna continued to sit in silence, and Brent seemed prepared for that. He kept up small talk and tried to put her at ease. The more he chatted, the more she felt ready to leave so she could have some time to herself to let it all sink in. But this was Brent’s party and she wasn’t going to rush him. At his prompting, she was soon filling him in on what her mom and dad and the rest of her family were up to.
“I don’t see them regularly, but when I do, they are well.”
Brent seemed surprised. “You and your parents were so close back then. You don’t see them as much now? Is it because of the move to Florida?”
She wasn’t going to add guilt to his plate by sharing that the rift with her family had been due in large part to her split with him, so she nodded.
He filled her in on what his brothers, James and Winston, had been up to, and how his sister, Natalie, was now married with four children.
“Tamara and I weren’t blessed with any, so Natalie, James, and Winston had enough for themselves and us,” he joked.
Tamara looked away, and once again, Dayna could tell that his words stung.
“If you don’t mind sharing, what are some of the other things you’re planning to do before …” She couldn’t bring herself to say the words die, pass away, or leave and kicked herself for bringing up the subject again.
But Brent seemed comfortable with his reality. “You know what’s next on my list? Remember back in college, after I got hurt during my sophomore year and struggled to find meaning when I couldn’t play football anymore?”
“How could I forget?” Dayna shook her head as the memories engulfed her. “That was a rough time. You were as mean as a snake, but I knew it was because you were scared and lost. Thankfully you had a great GPA, so they let you keep your football scholarship.”
“But remember my two teammates who didn’t have a support system after they suffered injuries?” Brent asked. “They lost their focus and eventually dropped out of college. Remember my great idea?”
Dayna’s thoughts wandered back to those days at Alabama U, and she tried to focus on where Brent was steering her, instead of how their romance had blossomed. “You said you wanted to someday start a foundation to offer mentoring to college athletes who get injured and need academic and career-planning assistance.”
“Bingo.”
Dayna’s eyes widened. “You’ve actually done that?”
“Not yet,” Brent said. “We’ve got a nice-sized savings, but I’m also well insured. After I’m gone, there will be enough left for Tamara to live comfortably, without working if she wants, and to establish the foundation I dreamed of back then. There will be five million available to get started.”
“Wow,” said Dayna. “Will it be public or private?”
“What’s the difference?” Tamara asked.
Drawing on her work experience, Dayna launched into a mini-lesson on the benefits of being a public foundation, monitored by the federal government with oversight from board members chosen by the creator of the foundation, versus a private foundation, which has more leeway with who makes decisions but requires more administrative legwork. Questions and answers flew back and forth between the three of them until Brent paused and gently grabbed Dayna’s wrist as she was mid-motion into rendering another answer.
His touch startled her, but she felt too uncomfortable to wrest herself from his light grip. Brent seemed oblivious.
“You know what? Your executive training has given you the knowledge I need to get this thing off the ground. I need your help to figure out whether to go public or private, or whether I need a community foundation or some other vehicle to manage the funds. Will you do it?”
eleven
The short, shallow breaths she couldn’t control convinced Tamara a panic attack would overtake her any second now.
Had she heard her husband correctly? She had purposely left Brent alone with this woman for fifteen minutes so he could explain his terminal illness and say anything else he felt was necessary to be at peace, and now Brent had come up with another reason to keep Dayna in their lives. Had he taken too much pain medicine before leaving home?
She couldn’t breathe and she felt like throwing up. Tamara fought those physical sensations by inhaling deeply over and over again as Brent paid the check and bade Dayna good-bye.
Now well into their forty-five-minute drive home, Brent didn’t appear to notice her silence or anxiety. He was so excited about how his foundation idea was unfolding that he seemed to have found a second wind. She hadn’t seen him this energized or focused in months.
“Thank you for doing this, baby.” He reached for Tamara’s hand while keeping his eyes on the road. “I know it wasn’t easy to spend that time with Dayna, but I thought it went well. And not only did I get a chance to apologize and explain what’s next for me, tonight’s meeting may lead to the next step in creating my foundation. Can you believe it?”
He glanced at her when she didn’t respond. “What?”
Tamara shrugged. “Nothing.”
In the silence that followed, she wrestled, as usual, with just how much to say. Was he really that oblivious to how uncomfortable tonight’s “reunion” had been for her, and possibly for Dayna? Did he really think the three of them could work together in harmony as he grew sicker and sicker?
Lord, how do I tell him I can’t do this?
“What is it, Tami?”
She sighed and rummaged through her hand-sized purse. “I don’t know, Brent. It just seems like too much to have Dayna involved in the foundation. I thought we were going to have dinner with her and move on, baby. I know you needed to ask her forgiveness and all, but I’m not comfortable with seeing her on a regular basis. I can’t do it; I’m sorry.”
; Brent kept his eyes on the cars zigzagging in front of him without responding. This stretch of State Road 520 was infamous for deadly crashes, and he routinely maneuvered with laser focus during this section of the drive, but Tamara knew that wasn’t why his chatter had ceased.
She didn’t want him to be angry with her, and she didn’t want to hamper his progress, but this was asking too much.
“What are you thinking?” she asked after the third song on his favorite jazz CD began and ended with no conversation between them.
“I guess I went too far, huh?” Brent asked.
A sigh escaped like pressure released from a valve before Tamara could contain it. “I think so,” she said. “I know Dayna is knowledgeable about what you need done, but can’t you get help from someone else? What were you planning to do if you hadn’t had that conversation with her tonight? I’m sure there are tons of organizations that help people set up foundations. I can probably get some contacts through the bank.”
“To be honest, I guess I hadn’t thought it through,” Brent said. “Talking to her showed me there’s more to getting this done the right way than I realized. I need someone to guide me and to help you make sure everything is handled correctly when … I’m gone.”
He paused for a long time and kept his eyes on the road. “I don’t know who else that could be,” he finally said.
Tamara prayed for strength to keep from saying something rash. What he really meant was he didn’t know who else he could trust — including her — to oversee the project like he wanted it done. Was he playing her emotions like a violin because he was dying? Did he realize that by bringing Dayna into the planning process he was asking Tamara to maintain a relationship with his ex-wife indefinitely? Was he crazy?
She placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. “We’ll figure this out together, okay? Let’s just give it more thought.”
That was the kindest way she could say no, and this request definitely deserved a no, cancer or not.
twelve
Dayna was a block from home when her cell phone began chiming. It was the ringtone for her friend and coworker Audrey, whom Dayna had filled in on her dinner plans over lunch today.
Coming Home Page 5
