Waking Anastasia (27 page)

As he drifted off to sleep, he wondered how the hell he was going to have the strength to fight a battle he was probably going to lose in the end; and then he felt the sheets lift and fully-clothed Ana slipped into the bed behind him. He fell asleep with her arms around him and a silly, lopsided grin on his face.

“MANNY, I MIGHT
as well come in for an hour or so tomorrow. I can double-check Mika’s prep notes for the meeting with the accountant.”

“Jerry, lad, you’re both needed and
not
needed. I need you or I wouldn’t have hired you, but I don’t need you so badly that I’m going to put the station before your health.”

“My CT planning scan thing isn’t until just after one. We can make sure you’re ready for the meeting, and then maybe I’ll take Lee-Anne out for lunch.”

“I don’t think—”

“If I have to sit at home and do nothing, I’ll drive Ana crazy. Worse still, if I have to sit on my ass and stress over everything,
I’ll
snap.”

“Right, then. Nine o’clock, for two hours, max.”

“Two hours. Then lunch with Lee-Anne.”

“I’ll have to confirm that with her, make sure she’s not over on the mainland tomorrow. To make it easy, though, assume the lunch is a go unless I send you a text otherwise.”

“Done. See you then.”

“Only because you insist, mate—
and
because your smiling face seems to have a positive effect around here. Make sure you take a cab, too.”

“Yes,
Dad
.”

“Smartass brat. I’d ground you, but you’d ignore me anyway. See you tomorrow.”

“Will do.”

Ana took the iPhone out of Jerry’s hand almost as soon as he ended the conversation, and plugged it into the charger. “Now, if you please, send an email to your friend Isis. Maybe you will have time to use the Spike-thing to speak with her.”

“Skype. S-K-Y-P-E.” He smiled. She was right about needing to call Isis, and Skype was the only way to do it. Casual conversations were once okay for TDD telephone for the Hearing Impaired, but with the advancements of Skype and FaceTime and camera phones, there was little need for a touch-typing translator to be an intermediary in a long distance conversation with the deaf. Even when they lived twenty-feet apart, Isis Skyped Jerry whenever she couldn’t drop by in person.

“‘Skype’? What is the meaning?”

“I have no idea. It’s not a word in English, yet.”

“I will have to Google it, later.” She handed him the laptop and he sank back into the cushions to send the email to Isis. The phone buzzed with an incoming text, and Ana took a quick look at the iPhone’s screen. “It is from Mika. She says that Danveer’s Uncle Palak is in town briefly and could she and Danveer bring him by to meet you tomorrow evening, at seven.”

“Sure.” He looked up from the keyboard. “I’ll see her tomorrow at the office, but I suppose they want an answer tonight. Could you text her that seven tomorrow is cool, Shvibzik? Please?”

“Certainly, Jerr-Bear.” She giggled, he laughed, and they both got down to sending their respective messages.

THE RAIN STARTED
up just as Jerry finished cleaning the last of the spaghetti sauce off his plate with the heel of garlic loaf. The window rattled for his attention and the raindrops held that attention for a moment longer. “Looks like we’ll have to postpone that walk. How about a movie, instead?”

“Something with Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan?”

“Sure. How about
You’ve Got Mail
?”

“A romantic story about the postal service? That could be quite interesting.”

He walked his plate over to the sink where Ana was pouring the extra sauce into a jar. “It refers to email, not snail mail, though I think the original Hungarian play was about snail mail pen pals.” He kissed the top of her head.

“‘
Snail
mail’?”

“What we call regular postal service because, compared to email and text messages, it’s as slow as a snail. Anyway, the movie is more about how true love can be hiding right under your nose the whole time.”

“
That
sounds delightful.”

HALF AN HOUR
later they were curled up on the couch together, Ana giggling along with the staff of the Shop Around the Corner while Jerry drifted in and out of sleep.

“DARLING, WHAT IS
a ‘bucket list’?” Ana looked over the laptop to where Jerry was changing for bed behind the screen.

“It’s a list of things a person wants to do before they die. Some people write one when they’re young to give them something to aim for, and some write it when the end is getting closer, to make sure they get done the things that are important to them. Why? Where did you hear that expression?”

“On a blog titled ‘Alice’s Bucket List’. She was seventeen when she died of cancer but she made a ‘bucket list’ before she left.”

“Ah.” He wasn’t sure where she was going with the conversation, whether she wanted to talk about cancer or dying or the young girl, Alice.

“Do you have a bucket list, my Sweet?”

He came out from behind the screen, tying the terry robe as he did. “Not really. I started one after I saw the movie, but I got distracted and never finished it.”

“There was a movie about Alice?” She started typing on the laptop, searching for an answer.

“I have no idea. The movie I’m thinking of was
The Bucket List
with Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman. It’s about two old men and their lists.”

Ana looked up. “What was on your bucket list?”

“Just four or five things, I think. Go skydiving, which I did for my twenty-first birthday; swim with dolphins; manage a radio station . . . that’s about it.”

“That was all? That is
three
things.”

He levered himself up off the couch and shuffled toward the bathroom to brush his teeth. He owed her the truth, but to actually say the words just might kill him. Remembering the last thing he wrote on that long-lost piece of paper suddenly brought home the fact that he was dying, that his bucket list was over and done. But Ana had asked, and if he owed anyone an answer, it was the ghost who finally made him think about life. “I wanted to . . . to hold my newborn son or daughter in my arms and see the future in their eyes.” The weight of it all slammed into him and he stumbled. His hand reached for the kitchen counter, but Ana was there instead, catching him, holding him up. His knees gave out and he folded to the floor, her strength slowing his descent. She cradled him, and they wept together.

THE TAXI DROPPED
Jerry off at the studio just before nine o’clock, after a not-so-quick detour to the downtown Tim Hortons coffee shop for two-dozen donuts and muffins. He was two steps into the lobby when Lee-Anne came out of nowhere, scooped the treats out of his hands, plunked them on the receptionist’s counter, and wrapped Jerry in a huge, green, angora hug. He was surprised, but not so much that he didn’t return the embrace, and then realize that his Sales Manager felt
really
good to hug. He gently broke free of her fuzzy, sweater-wrapped arms, accepting a kiss on his cheek before stepping back.

“Wow.” His hand went to Ana’s book in his jacket pocket, hoping that wherever she was, she couldn’t sense his increased heart rate nor see him blush. If he wasn’t sure about how much life was left in him, there was little doubt now, at least below the belt.

“Lunch.
My
treat, Jerry. I’ve got us a reservation at Puccini’s. Now, you go do what you have to with Manny for two hours and I will come get you at precisely eleven.” She finger-waved at him and practically skipped down the hall to her office.

“She’s sure in a great mood. I hope it’s catching.”

“Lunch with her favourite boss has her excited.” Mika stepped out of the mailroom and smiled.

“If she maintains that energy level through the whole meal she’ll exhaust me.” He accepted a quick but sincere hug from Mika and they started down the hall toward his office, the donuts and muffins forgotten.

“Lee-Anne feels terrible about how she reacted to your news on Saturday.”

“She doesn’t have to. If I could have run out of the room myself I would have. I’ve never dealt well with other people’s illnesses, so I’m more than willing to look the other way if anyone else has trouble with mine. I sure won’t take it personally.”

“Please tell her that at lunch. She’s been mumbling ‘I hope Jerry doesn’t hate me’ every ten minutes. I finally just shut her office door so I could get some work done.” They reached Jerry’s office and Mika took her leave. “My prep notes for the meeting with the accountant are on your desk.”

“Thanks, M. I appreciate it.”

“Any time, Boss.”

Jerry stepped into his office and Mika returned across the hall to her own office. He hadn’t even hung his coat up when Manny appeared in the doorway.

“How’re you feelin’, Jerr? If I don’t ask right off, then Carmella will have my head. She was livid when she heard you were coming in, then I told her you were driving Ana bonkers so she relented that maybe we could find you a few light duties for two hours until lunch with Lee-Anne.”

“Thanks, but I can handle a little more than light duties. I’d like to talk about the meeting with the accountant but also to go over some ideas I had about our late-night format.”

“Excellent. Get settled, check your emails or whatever and come by when you’re ready.”

@TheTaoOfJerr: “Hell is full of musical amateurs.”

~George Bernard Shaw

ALMOST ON CUE
, Jerry’s rumbling stomach called a halt to the work session at 10:55. “Lunch time, Jerr.” The two men stood up from their notes spread on the conference room table where Jerry had moved them after he realized the printouts wouldn’t fit on either his own or Manny’s desks. He twisted slowly, working the kinks out of his back while Manny rubbed the back of his own neck, towering over the table. “Do you need any suggestions for lunch?”

“Thanks, but she’s picked some Italian place that starts with ‘P’, I think.” Not only couldn’t he remember the name of the restaurant, but the name of his Sales Manager had slipped away from him, too!

“Puccini’s?”

“That’s the place, I think.” He sat back down, suddenly confused. “A restaurant?”

“You bet. You all right, Jerr?”

“I’m not sure. Why am I going to a restaurant?”

“Lunch. With Lee-Anne. Damn. You’ve got me worried, mate. You can postpone this, you know, ’til you’re feeling up to it.”

“Lee-Anne? Oh, right.” He shook the mental dust from his thoughts. “No, I should be okay. It’s just lunch.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. No problem, Manny. Just a little brain fart. I’m good.” He said the words, but he wasn’t all that certain. There were holes in his memory, like how he’d got to the office, and what he was supposed to be doing after lunch. It both scared and angered him, but he couldn’t let Manny know, or he’d tell his wife and she’d hire a nurse to look after him. He supposed he’d have to start using his phone’s Calendar and Contacts apps more, to keep track of the details of everyday life. Or maybe just lean on Ana a bit more, like Carmella said.

Manny patted him on the back and ushered him out into the corridor. “Go get your coat and I’ll go tell Lee-Anne we’re done,” then he strode silently off down the carpeted corridor and around the corner. Jerry wandered into his office and grabbed his coat. Rather than put it on, though, he slumped in the guest chair and laid the coat on his lap. For some reason he just ran out of steam. He could feel the book in the coat’s inside pocket and found some strength in that. Wondering if Mika would be willing to accept the book and its resident when he died, he finally shrugged into the coat and stepped out into the corridor, just as Lee-Anne bounced out of her office behind Manny.

“Lunch with my favourite boss! Woohoo!” She linked her arm through Jerry’s but Manny stopped her with a light touch of his long fingers on her shoulder.

“Remember what we talked about, Lee-Anne. A nice, relaxed lunch, and then make sure he gets to his appointment after.”

Her smile slipped away, but only because she wanted Manny to know that she was taking him seriously. “Of course, Manny. You really can count on me.”

“I know. Now, go. Chat. Eat. Try the Cajun Beef Lasagna. Expense it, but please spend at least two minutes talking about business.”

Jerry smiled. “A whole two minutes? You’re such a slave driver.” And he let Lee-Anne lead him out to the street where she flagged a taxi faster than he’d ever seen before. As they climbed in, he muttered, “That was impressive. It would have taken me five minutes, at least.”

Lee-Anne giggled and hugged his arm. “It’s one of the advantages of these curves. In summer they practically fight over who gets the fare. I used to be proud of it, but after what you said the other day, I’m not so sure anymore. I’m a person, not a pair of . . . well,
you
know.”