“Daddy’s really funny. He wanted me to tell you that.”
“Go!” she yelled and pointed her finger toward the bedroom.
Ric casually walked into the kitchen and put a six-pack of beer in the refrigerator. “Jan, why don’t you let up? She’s just a little girl. You don’t need to yell at her for no reason.”
“You’re exactly right. I need to yell at you.”
“So what did I do wrong this time? I just spent the afternoon at the beach with my daughter.” He walked up to Janet. “You could have come.” He quickly tickled her under her chin with one finger.
She grabbed his hand. “You are not going to use that charm on me. I wanted to go to the movies. I’ve been asking for a week. And when I get home, you’re nowhere to be found. I rue the day I had that child. I might as well be in Timbuktu. You don’t even know I’m here most of the time.”
He was looking at his phone. “I can hear you. I know you’re here. That movie is not appropriate for Gins.”
“Her name is Virginia. She’s not Virginia Anderson, she’s Virginia Santini.”
“Let me know when you’re going to stop complaining. I’m going to the office for a while.” He went out the door.
“Ric Santini, I hate you!” She picked up the pillow off the chair and threw it at the door.
Young
The next Saturday morning, Robert and Gini came out of the bedroom in pajamas and robes. His hair stuck up and out.
“Daddy? Is Mama fixing your hair again?” She started laughing.
“So what if she is?” He lifted his daughter up, sat her on the kitchen counter, and started tickling Jessica.
Gini went to Debbie and hugged her.
Life was perfect—perhaps too perfect.
Chapter 14—Trauma and Blessings
It had been a quiet evening after a busy day. Robert went on a field trip with Jessica’s class, and Debbie and Gini spent most of the afternoon at the club getting the Christmas bazaar set up. Everyone was ready to turn in early.
The house was dark when Debbie went to the kitchen for a glass of water around ten-thirty. She had just gotten in bed and picked up her adventure novel when there was a tap on her outside door—it startled her. Then her phone lit up on her nightstand.
Bunny, it’s me, Micky. I’m at your door.
Debbie jumped out of bed and pulled back the shade. “Hold on a minute, I have to turn off the alarm,” she called out.
She quickly disarmed the system and opened the door. “Micky!”
Micky immediately wrapped her arms around Debbie. The two had not seen or spoken to each other for over a year. Debbie didn’t even know if Micky was still in New England. They had completely split.
“What are you doing here?” Debbie asked, thrown off by Micky’s affection.
“Bunny, I need you.” Debbie could feel Micky trembling.
“Come on in and get warm.” She took Micky’s hand and led her to the small couch next to the front windows.
“Now, tell me what’s wrong,” Debbie said, after wrapping a blanket around Micky’s shoulders.
“Deb, I have cancer.”
“Oh, Micky. I’m so sorry.” The two embraced again.
“Stomach, it’s bad.”
“Tell me what I can do to help.”
“I need you, Debbie. I need you.” Micky started to sob. “I don’t think I’m going to make it.”
Debbie held her, rocking for a long time as Micky cried and cried. Once Debbie got her calmed down, she insisted Micky stay the night.
Debbie had never seen Micky this emotional. She was always so strong, brushing off or removing herself from any disappointment or uncomfortable situation. This had to be very serious for Micky to have such a reaction.
“I’m scared, bunny,” Micky said, lying next to Debbie with her head on Debbie’s shoulder.
Micky told her she had been having digestive problems for weeks and had taken over-the-counter meds to ease the discomfort, but when she realized she had lost ten pounds without any change in her eating habits, she went to the doctor. They ran tests and found a tumor in her stomach and one in her pancreas.
Debbie gasped when she heard pancreas. That was certain death.
Micky said that the doctor wanted to remove the stomach tumor and try a new immunotherapy that could utilize Micky’s immune system to shrink the pancreas tumor and defend against any other cancer in Micky’s system. It was experimental but had shown great promise in ridding some patients of their cancers. Micky was skeptical about using any unconventional treatment and wanted to go for radical radiation and chemo.
“Deb, I don’t have anyone but you. I don’t have any friends.” Micky looked up from Debbie’s shoulder. “You’re the only one who has put up with me. I can’t do this alone.”
“And you don’t have to,” Debbie said, brushing the tears from Micky’s cheeks. “We are going to do this together. Now, you just rest. We’ll figure out a plan in the morning.”
Micky was exhausted from the crying, the fear, and the disease, and fell asleep quickly.
Debbie made her way to the kitchen to make herself some tea. Her mind was swarming with information, anxiety, and emotion. She heard a sound and turned quickly. “Robert!” She swiftly wiped the tears from her eyes.
“I didn’t think anyone was still up.” He looked at the alarm pad at the back door. “Hmm, I could have sworn I set the alarm.” He walked to reset it.
“I disarmed it.” Debbie burst into tears.
“Deb.” He went to her. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“Micky’s in my room sleeping.” Debbie buried her face in her hands. “She’s… very… ill.” Her voice skipped from the crying.
“Come on.” Robert put his arm around Debbie and led her to the couch. He sat
