Just Destiny (14 page)

Much as she disliked the woman, Annie had a point. Maybe Jenny should apologize. She didn’t want Steve’s friendship with her to come between them—not if Annie was really what he wanted.

Jenny wrinkled her nose. Nah, no apology needed. She’d just stop relying on Steve and be nicer to Annie. She’d wean herself from Steve’s help, starting today. She’d taken care of herself before she married and she could do it again. Hopefully, pretty soon she’d be taking care of herself and a baby.

Tomorrow she’d attack that huge to-do list. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and looked around the kitchen. Today she’d put away the groceries and actually cook herself a healthy dinner. She’d grill a steak and steam some asparagus to go with it. Not exactly gourmet fare, but it’d do.

* * *

Sunday afternoon, Jenny reached above her head and clasped her hands. Leaning to the right and then to the left, she stretched sore shoulder muscles. One pile on her desk was almost clear. Still three piles of condolence cards six inches high remained on her to-do half of the desk, but at least she’d paid the bills.

Jenny glanced at the calendar. Wednesday the fourteenth she had her first appearance in court. She picked up the list of attorneys with more than a half-dozen names crossed off. How could it be this hard to find a lawyer willing to take her case? Maybe Steve was right and this was a bigger deal than she’d thought.

She frowned, then shook her head. Naw, it couldn’t be that complicated when she could simply walk into any old sperm bank, fill out some papers, pay a fee and buy some stranger’s sperm to help her get pregnant. But why do that when she had her husband’s sperm? It couldn’t be this hard; surely the judge would agree with her.

Only a few more days to find a lawyer; she’d better make more calls this afternoon. Tomorrow she returned to work and wouldn’t have much time to interview attorneys.

Tck. Tck, tck. The tapping of freezing rain on the glass drew her attention. Jenny stood and walked over to the window to stare out into the cold, dreary day. It was the perfect day to clean. She located her favorite country station on Pandora and loaded the dishwasher, washed and dried the few dishes that needed it, and scrubbed the counters until the granite gleamed. That was better.

She got the vacuum from the closet and had just plugged it in when the phone rang. “Hello.”

“Miss Jenny?”

“Hi, Tommy, what’s up?”

“The clinic’s not just for kids, is it?”

“No. Why?”

He turned aside, voice muffled. “I told you, Grammy.” Then he spoke to Jenny. “Grammy J’s sick an’ she won’t go to the clinic ’cause she thinks it’s just for kids. It’s free for adults too, right?”

“It’s free for anybody who needs it. What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s got a real bad cough and she’s so tired she can hardly get outta bed.”

Jenny looked outside at the stormy weather. A sick person shouldn’t be riding the bus in weather like this. “Give me ten minutes, and I’ll come and get her.”

“Thanks.” Jenny heard the relief in his voice. At eleven, Tommy shouldn’t have to be worrying about stuff like this. He should be obsessed with video games and baseball, not taking care of his family.

Jenny turned off the music, snatched her purse and had reached the garage door before she looked down at her plaid PJs. “Crap.”

Darting upstairs, she threw on some jeans and, mindful that she’d probably run into Gianna, she put on a nicer sweater and took the time to apply a little lipstick before hopping in the car.

Twenty minutes later she pulled up outside the modest bungalow. Grammy J left the house, then stopped halfway down the walk and brought a handkerchief to her mouth. Her slight shoulders hunched, rising and falling with each cough. She pocketed the handkerchief and resumed her trek to the car. The three children trailed behind her.

“Tommy shouldn’t have called you.” She stood in the open car doorway.

“I’m glad he did. Now hop in and we’ll get you all fixed up.”

Grammy J huffed and puffed as she seated herself in the Jeep. That little exertion shouldn’t have had her breathing so hard. She must really be sick.

“Thank you for fetching us.” She fastened her seat belt and then clutched her purse on her lap.

“Happy to help.” Jenny looked over her shoulder to where the children climbed in the backseat. The kids would be bored at the clinic and this time of year waiting rooms were a breeding ground for bacteria and every the other germ that crossed through the clinic doors. “Tommy can stay home with the kids—they don’t all need to come.”

“No, can’t trust ’em home alone. Never know what mischief they get into.”

Jenny doubted they’d get into any trouble. Tommy was pretty responsible, but she wasn’t going to argue the point. Jenny winced as Grammy J coughed, a deep hacking sound, like she could rip out a lung. She drooped in her seat and closed her eyes, exhausted.

At the clinic, Jenny supported one of Grammy J’s arms and Tommy held the younger kids’ hands. The little group moved up to the doorway and Jenny waved at the guard. Inside, the waiting room was packed. They passed people of all ages, lounging in the hard plastic seats, waiting their turn.

Tommy took the last free seat and pulled Clarisse onto his lap while Sammy sat silently at his feet. Jenny escorted Grammy J to the receptionist to sign in. Just as before, Grammy took the clipboard and passed it off to Tommy, trading it for his seat. Tommy quickly filled out the necessary paperwork, pointed out where Grammy J needed to sign, and handed it in.

A flushed older gentleman in the corner sat blowing his nose and coughing so badly that Jenny put her body between the sick man and the Johnsons. With her weakened immune system, Grammy J didn’t need whatever it was that guy had. Several babies whimpered and fussed, another poor mite wheezed so loudly she could hear him easily from twenty feet away, and a woman in the corner argued with someone on her cell phone.

Clarisse squirmed and grunted when Sammy poked her. Then he pulled her braid and looked the other way. Jenny turned to the receptionist. “How long’s the wait?”

She winced. “Probably about an hour. Bad weather seems to bring everybody in.”

Jenny strained to hear her over the din of a crying baby and now arguing kids. “Is Gianna here?”

“Yup. Go on back.”

Jenny went to Gianna’s office—a little more than a closet actually. She wasn’t there, but came hurrying down the hall. Gianna Donnatelli Scarfili’s white lab coat flapped, snapping her legs, as she tossed instructions to the other nurse. Though a petite, tiny woman, she epitomized harnessed energy, making Jenny tired just at the thought of keeping up with her.

Gianna broke out in a wide smile when she spotted Jenny, which melted into concern. Reaching out, she squeezed Jenny’s arm. “Hey, how’re you doing?”

“I’m okay.”

Her gaze sharpened on Jenny’s face. “Really?”

Jenny nodded.

“Then what’re you doing here?”

“A friend’s sick and needed a ride.”

“Really? Who? I’ll see if Joe can slip them in—”

“No—but thanks. There’s a huge line out there and she wouldn’t feel right about that.” No way would Grammy J stand for any preferential treatment. She’d wait her turn, even if she were dying. “I was looking for some books or magazines or something for the kids.”

“Books don’t last long here. If there aren’t any out there, then…” She bit her lip and looked beyond Jenny into her office. “I think…” she rummaged though papers on her desk. “Yep, here.” She handed Jenny a crumpled
Ranger Rick
. “Chris finished this and I brought it in days ago and forgot to put it out.”

Jenny took the magazine. “Thanks. Hey, you don’t happen to have any pamphlets on literacy programs, do you?”

Gianna walked with her toward the waiting room, then plucked a pamphlet off a wall filled with brochures. “ProLiteracy Detroit. Great people.”

Gianna turned as the doctor called her. “I’ve gotta run, but we’ll get you back as soon as possible.”

“Thanks.” Jenny folded the leaflet and tucked it in her back pocket.

In the waiting room, she sat Indian-style on the floor. Crooking a finger at Clarisse, she held up the magazine. With a shy smile, the four-year-old hesitated a second before darting over and climbing into Jenny’s lap. Jenny relished feel of the solid little bundle that fit so perfectly in her arms and the fresh smell of her shampoo. This is what her own little one would feel like one day. She couldn’t wait.

The
Ranger Rick
cover had a close-up frontal picture of an enormous, sloe-eyed hippo in a pond with a baby in front of her. The little hippo’s whole head and neck were smaller than the end of the mother’s nose. “And the caption read, ‘Meet Mom and me and our whole hippo family.’” Jenny bent to look at Clarisse. “Do you want to meet his whole hippo family?”

She grinned. “Ye-th.”

“Me too,” said a voice to her right.

“Me t-o-o,” chimed a little boy in front of Jenny.

Jenny looked up and while she and Clarisse had been studying the picture on the cover, four other children had crept near, and Sammy was craning his neck from five feet away. A half a dozen pair of eyes stared curiously at her. Jenny scanned her small audience and smiled.

“Okay. Everybody settle down. Make room.” Jenny scooted over to accommodate a boy wedging closer. “And we’ll all learn about the hippo family.”

When they finished with the hippos, they moved on to learning about the care of little orphan bats, the world of sea turtles, and an article about “neat feet,” but the hippo family story was the favorite. Perhaps because Jenny made fun little-boy voices when she read the baby hippo lines and used a deep “papa” voice for the daddy.

As Jenny read and showed the pictures, their little group grew and the room quieted until she could hear the receptionist talking on the phone and the shush shush shush of a blood pressure cuff being pumped up. Jenny added more animation and embellishment, to the delight of her audience.

Feeling eyes on her, Jenny looked up to see Gianna huddled with another nurse, whispering and nodding in her direction. They stared, making her feel self-conscious. Weren’t doctors’ wives supposed to sit on the floor entertaining children?

She raised an eyebrow and looked over the children’s heads. “What?”

Gianna strolled forward. “Wow. It’s as quiet as a library in here.”

“We’re enjoying
Ranger Rick
.”

“I can see. You didn’t even notice when Mrs. Johnson was called back.”

Jenny scanned the room and saw Grammy J standing at the receptionist desk. She stood Clarisse up and slid out from under her. She handed Tommy the magazine and looked at all the expectant little faces. “Tommy’ll finish the story for you.”

“We’ll have to start calling you Pied Piper,” Gianna teased.

Jenny brushed away the compliment. “All done?”

“Yup.” Gianna handed Grammy J a small plastic bag of medicine. “She’s got an antibiotic for the infection, cough medicine so she can sleep, and an inhaler. She should be feeling much better in a couple days.”

Jenny beamed. “Great.” She looked at Grammy J. “Ready to go?”

“If you can pull the young ones away from that magazine of yours.” She nodded to Sammy and Clarisse, still on the floor.

“Come on, guys,” Jenny called out as she helped Grammy J on with her coat.

The little group moved out into the blustery day. Once settled in the Jeep, Jenny pulled out into the street. “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“It was fine. Though I was hopin’ to see your fine young man again, but Dr. Joe was real nice too. He took good care of me.”

Jenny froze. The breath caught in her throat as they cruised past the Johnson’s street.

“Jenny?” She heard the concern in the old woman’s voice.

She pulled to the side of the road and looked straight ahead. “Sorry. I…um…Gabe was killed in a biking accident last month.”

“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry,” Grammy J reached out for Jenny’s hand.

The younger children leaned forward. “What? What happened, Grammy?”

“Hush, now; never you mind.” She patted Jenny’s hand. “I been without my Herb now goin’ on twenty years. It’s hard, but you get by.”

Jenny nodded. “Let’s get you home now.”

At home, Jenny got Grammy J and the kids settled inside the house. She made sure Grammy J understood which medicines she was to take when, and how to use her inhaler. Hesitating by the front door, she reached into her back pocket and pulled out the pamphlet.

“I got this from Gianna.” She held up the flyer. “ProLiteracy Detroit is a free program that helps folks learn to read—mostly adults, and they meet in the basement of the church around the corner every week.”

Jenny ignored the old woman’s set features and the stubborn thrust of her chin, saying gently, “I know it’s none of my business, but you’re a smart lady. You can learn to read. And Tommy won’t always be there to help you.”

Grammy J took the flyer. She stared at the map and phone number on the front. “I’ll think about it.” She coughed, a raspy bark that sounded like something was caught in her throat. The little woman’s shoulders hunched and her chest caved in deeply with each breath.

Jenny urged her to sit in a nearby chair until the coughing fit passed.

Grammy J grabbed Jenny’s hand in a crushing, bony grip, as she fixed her with a stern stare. “I wish there was something I could do for all you done for us.”

“You know I’m happy to help.”

Grammy J lifted her chin. “Me too.”

This sweet old lady was proud and didn’t want charity; Jenny could understand that. She glanced at the pamphlet in Grammy’s lap. “Maybe there is something…”

Steve came home from work to find Annie’s black Audi blocking his garage. His shoulders drooped. After the day he’d had at work, he’d been looking forward to vegging out in front of the TV with a beer or two. He parked under the basketball hoop and followed the sound of childish chatter around the side of the house to his back patio.

Josh and Sophie sat barefoot in a huge turtle sandbox, digging and flinging sand while Annie stretched out on a padded lounger, chatting on the phone.