A Time To Love (14 page)

Read A Time To Love Online

Authors: Barbara Cameron

Tags: #Love

 

Jenny went directly to the television studio when she got to New York City.

Sometimes she felt a little disoriented, a little disconnected, entering such a high-tech environment in a high-tech city after she'd been away overseas where life in a war zone was so basic.

This time she didn't feel the same kind of disconnect— she hadn't physically been that far away, and even though so many people had misconceptions about the lifestyle of Plain People, she hadn't felt like she'd visited some strange and alien country.

But she'd been away from the hustle of New York, the frantic pace of the studio; she found herself standing in the middle of the lobby unable to move. This had become the alien place somehow. She'd been away healing so long that it felt like someone else's place, not hers.

"Oh, my, look, it's Jenny!" someone cried.

Coworkers who'd become friends swarmed her, chattering, until David arrived to rescue her. "Jenny, there you are!" He hugged her and began leading her toward the elevator to a chorus of disappointment from the others. "I'll bring her back, I promise!" he assured them.

The doors shut, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry, I should have come down to the lobby a few minutes early," he told her. "You can't blame them. They've been worried about you."

Jenny remembered what her grandmother had said once about not worrying because that was arrogant; it was acting like God didn't know His job.

"You're looking better," David said, giving her a critical look up and down.

She shook her head, smiling wryly. "Better than what? I felt positively dowdy next to everyone down in the lobby. You better have that hair and makeup person you promised."

"I do. She's waiting for you. The stylist, too." He brushed at a speck of imaginary lint on his expensive suit.

"You told her about—"

"Jenny, everyone knows what you've been through," David said quietly. "Now, do you trust me?"

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

"Okay, let's take you in to hair and makeup."

When he opened the door, his wife, Joy, and their four-yearold son, Sam, yelled, "Surprise!"

Jenny couldn't help it. She started crying as Joy and Sam hugged her. "Oh, I missed you guys."

"I know you and David have business," Joy told her. "But we wanted to stop by and say hi and make sure you'll have dinner with us later." She looked at her son. "Right, Sam?"

"Right," he said, grinning.

Joy was a tiny, red-haired dynamo who was a perfect match for David. She knew how to keep him from taking himself too seriously.

"I may need to take a rain check if I'm too tired."

"Of course." Joy shot David a look. "Don't let him railroad you into anything you're not comfortable with."

"Too late," Jenny muttered.

"Yeah, I figured." Joy gave her another hug. "You're looking just wonderful. Getting away to the country was good for you."

Jenny sat down so she could put Sam on her lap. He gave her a card he'd colored as she reached into her tote bag and pulled out a wooden train she'd bought for him at a store in Lancaster. She'd brought it to the studio to give to David for him if she didn't get to see them.

A few minutes later they left, Sam blowing her a kiss, Joy reminding David again not to overtire Jenny.

Charmaine, the hairdresser, was happy to see her but unhappy to find so many split ends.

"We need to do some major conditioning," she tsk-tsked, examining them. "I'll have to take an inch or two off. And since you're looking kind of washed-out, how about we put in some streaks to give you a little color?"

When she saw Jenny's look of horror in the mirror, she rolled her eyes. "Okay, maybe not. But definitely we're getting rid of the split ends."

David abandoned her, claiming he had to go over his notes.

"Chicken," said Charmaine as he left.

Next was Mandy, who studied Jenny's skin with an intensity that unnerved her. She was new and young, and Jenny feared she'd slap a bunch of heavy makeup and color on her face. But Mandy got out some special foundation and explained that she'd done some volunteer work with an organization that did makeovers for women who had suffered burns or scars.

"Your scar is barely visible to the eye, but the foundation makes it disappear for the camera." She added some subtle eye makeup and lipstick and stood back to admire her work. "What do you think?"

"I look like I did before—before." Her skin looked flawless, her hair shiny and bouncy. The dove-gray pantsuit that Joan, the stylist, brought in could have been made for her it fit so perfectly. She looked polished and professional and still herself. If her cane hadn't been at the ready, no one would have thought anything was different from the Jenny of the past.

David stuck his head in. "Is it safe?" Then he got a good look at Jenny. "Wow."

They went to one of the small studios to do the interview.

"We're going to start the segment with scenes of your visits with children in several countries overseas," he explained. "I'll do a voiceover about what the children are experiencing because of war. Then we'll shift to the footage of the explosion."

"Can I see it?"

David hesitated. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "My life changed forever that day. I'd like to see it."

He spoke with one of the crew and they set up the tape so she could watch it on a nearby monitor. It felt surreal to watch the explosion, to see herself tossed into the air, then fall twisted and motionless on the ground. She forced herself to watch, unflinching. Then the scene shifted to her being airlifted, first to a military hospital nearby, then being flown back to a stateside hospital where she was shown learning to walk again.

"Jenny? You okay?"

She felt him take her hand. Her throat clogged with tears, she nodded. "I'm okay. I needed to see it."

"Let me get you some water—"

She smiled and squeezed his hand. "Thanks, but I'm fine."

Taking a deep breath, she looked around. "Where did the crew go?"

"They're giving you some time—"

Glancing at the clock, she shook her head. "Boss'll kill you if you go into overtime."

"Boss is fine about it," said a deep voice. "Take as long as you need."

Nate stepped in front of her, looking just as tall and imposing as always. But he wore a smile as he reached for her hand and held it. "Good to see you, Jenny." With a nod to David, he left them.

"Okay, let's roll," David called out to the crew.

To start the interview, he asked how she was doing. She spoke simply but honestly about the challenge of physical and speech therapy. "I have a lot of work to do," she said slowly."But I'm feeling better."

The questions were low-key, not challenging, and shied away from when she'd be returning from work. David was usually fast-talking, almost hyper, but today he was going at a slower pace, giving her time, and it helped. She found herself relaxing so that her speech flowed almost normally. It felt strange to be on the other side of an interview, but David made it easy. He stuck by his promise that he wouldn't reveal she'd been staying in the Lancaster County area with her grandmother and exercised more patience than she'd ever seen because she needed so much time to answer.

"And now, is there anything you'd like to say?" David asked, leaning back in his chair.

"You gave me a stack of letters and e-mails from viewers who were concerned about me and they meant so much to me," she told him honestly, tearing up. "I appreciated having people want to know I am all right. But I'd like them to think of someone more important. If you can just spare a few dollars and send it to one of the organizations that feeds children and gets them medical care, it would mean so much to me. Just a few dollars can make an enormous difference to a child's life."

"We can do that," he told her, his voice husky with emotion.

They closed with a montage of scenes from Jenny's visits with children. There were smiles and tears and haunted eyes.

Tears ran down Jenny's face as she watched the monitor. She hadn't shed a tear when she watched what had happened to her, but when she saw the children again, she cried.

 

 

The interview wasn't the only reason Jenny had returned to New York City. She didn't tell anyone, not her grandmother, Matthew, or David.

Her doctor had agreed she could go to her grandmother's house as long as she did her therapy and returned for a checkup. When Jenny called, the nurse told her to come over the next day.

A new series of x-rays were taken and duly frowned over. Jenny sat in suspense, waiting for the doctor to speak. When he turned from them to look at her, her heart sank.

"You're going to need another operation," he told her. "We did the best we could with the two operations before, but I told you that we might need to go in again. There's still some shrapnel, some bone chips, some tendon repair. That's why you continue to have so much pain in your hip." He paused when he saw tears in her eyes. "Jenny, you knew you might need another, maybe two."

"I know. But I was hoping . . ." she trailed off.

"Let's schedule it for next week."

She wasn't looking forward to it, but she wanted to get it over with, especially if it would help relieve the pain and the difficulty of walking. But there was a little girl back in Lancaster who already thought she wasn't coming back.

"I need a little more time," she told the doctor. "I'll call you next week."

He nodded. "Just don't put it off too long, okay?"

"Okay."

"And Jenny, there's one more thing. We'll be testing the shrapnel and the other metal we take out this time. There's been some concern that metal in bombing victims where you were is showing some contamination."

She sighed. "Just something else to be worried about, huh?"

He patted her shoulder. "So far the doctors there haven't found any problems. But we figure it's time to start being proactive about this just in case."

She dressed and took a cab over to her next appointment. There, it wasn't x-rays but a sonogram. The ob/gyn specialist asked Jenny to dress and then, when she sat down in front of her desk, came around to sit in the chair beside her.

It can't be good when the doctor sits beside you,
thought Jenny.

"There was a lot of internal damage," the woman said, looking at her kindly. "We both know you're lucky to be alive. You're a young woman. I know that you want to hear that you'll still have a baby one day. I wish I could give you a guarantee, but I can't even do that with healthy young women who've never been injured."

"So we wait and see?"

The doctor nodded.

"What do I tell him?" Jenny asked her. "The man who might be in my future?" She shook her head. "I mean, presuming someone would want to take me on with all my other problems. What if he wants a child?"

"Then, if you can't have one, you adopt. You of all people would adopt, wouldn't you? I've seen you on television. I'm surprised you didn't bring a couple of those children home with you."

Jenny smiled slightly. "I wanted to, but then who would have taken care of them when I had to go back overseas?"

The doctor patted her hand. "The human body is a miraculous thing, Jenny. There's no telling what's in your future."

She stood and went to sit behind her desk so she could make notes in Jenny's file. "I want you to come back in six months and just keep doing what you've been doing. The therapy is obviously doing great things for you."

Jenny found herself out on the sidewalk a short time later, hailing a cab back to her condo.

She'd called her landlord before she arrived and told him to let her friend Joy inside. Joy had had some cleaning done and even placed a bunch of flowers in a vase.

Jenny wandered into the kitchen and looked in the refrigerator. Joy had stocked it, even filled the freezer with microwavable entrees that Jenny always used to have for dinner. As she stood there, Jenny gazed around at the custom-made cabinets, the stainless-steel appliances, the granite countertops, and longed for a homey kitchen back in Lancaster. And not necessarily her grandmother's.

Back in Lancaster, everyone would be getting ready for supper. Hannah and Mary would have prepared the meal, and Matthew and Joshua would be coming in from doing farm chores and washing up. Even little Annie would have a task like helping to set the table. The food would be simple, the atmosphere warm and loving. Heads would be bent over the meal, thanking God for His abundance.

Closing the refrigerator, she went to lie on her bed, still in her clothes, and pulled the silk comforter over her.

She lay there as the light that came in through the drapes faded and darkness fell. Finally, she slept.

 

 

10

 

 

 

J
enny woke suddenly, feeling disoriented. Then she realized she was in her apartment, not her grandmother's home, and the doorbell was ringing.

She slid from the bed and made her way to the front door. Apparently the person ringing the doorbell didn't intend to give up and go away.

When she looked out the peephole, she saw why. Joy was holding Sam up so he could press the doorbell, and he was giggling with delight.

"You're home!" Joy said with a grin when Jenny opened the door. "We thought you might be. Were you sleeping?"

Sam grinned. "Hi, Jenny Banana."

She smiled. "Hi, Sam the Ham. Yeah, I fell asleep. I had a long day."

"Yeah? Doing what?"

Jenny shrugged. "Stuff."

Joy let Sam down, and he scampered inside. "I brought dinner. I thought we could watch the interview together."

"I'm not sure I want to see it."

"Why? You don't think it went well?"

"Of course it did. David did it."

"Then what is it?"

In the kitchen Joy unloaded a bag from a local Chinese restaurant. Jenny got out Sam's special Superman plate and scooped lo mein onto it. He climbed up into a chair and started munching.

"Jenny?"

"I'm not sure I want to see myself."

Joy rubbed her hand on Jenny's arm. "You look wonderful. Relax."

Glancing at the clock, Jenny turned on the TV set on the counter.

"I haven't had Chinese food for ages," she said, sampling the cashew chicken.

"You look so healthy," Joy told her, opening a container of fried rice and serving them. "Must be all those fruits and vegetables on the farm, huh?"

"You're being polite about the weight I've gained," Jenny said ruefully.

"You're still too thin. But I don't know how. I convinced David he had to share that pie your grandmother gave him. It was fantastic."

Music signaled the start of the six o'clock news.

"Daddy!" Sam cried as his father's face showed onscreen.

David was only in his late thirties, but network executives had recognized he had the knowledge and authority to move into the anchor seat after Edmund Mallory retired. Ratings had immediately soared.

"In the headlines tonight . . ."

"Sam, want an egg roll?"

". . . and a special visit with a friend of ours you've been writing us about."

"Jenny!" Sam cried as her picture flashed on.

She smiled at Sam. "Yes, it's me. Your daddy and I talked earlier because he wanted me on his show."

"Jenny? You okay?" Joy wanted to know.

"Butterflies," she muttered.

Sam looked over at her plate. "You got butterflies in your dinner?"

Jenny and Joy laughed. "No, it's something silly that people say," his mother told him.

Sam grinned. "Funny Jenny!"

Oh, I've missed him, and my friendship with David and Joy,
thought Jenny. She leaned over to kiss his cheek.

The broadcast went quickly. Nothing was left but the fortune cookies when the interview came on. Sam immediately became riveted to the screen.

Jenny had seen part of what they would broadcast—the film clips of children overseas and the bomb blast.

"Joy!" she whispered urgently. "Sam shouldn't see this part."

"Sam, you want to get the ice cream?"

He jumped up and pulled out the bottom drawer of the freezer. Joy watched the broadcast as she got bowls and Sam helped her scoop out the ice cream.

By the time they returned to the table, things Sam shouldn't see were over.

Jenny felt a lump in her throat as she watched how she struggled when David asked if she wanted to add anything. But it had been good to tell the viewing audience how she wanted them to focus on the children. She knew the truth that even a few dollars apiece would help. The screen was filled with a montage of scenes from Jenny's visits with children who smiled or cried and looked into the camera with haunting eyes. Then the camera cut back to Jenny watching the studio monitor, tears running down her face.

Jenny bit her lip as she watched now. "I didn't realize I was being filmed then," Jenny whispered, and Joy reached out to take her hand.

Over that image of her face, the names and 800 numbers of organizations that helped children were shown.

David came back on. "I hope you'll join me in donating," he said quietly. "It'd mean a lot to the children. And to Jenny."

Jenny burst into tears.

"Mama?"

"It's okay, Sam," his mother said quickly. "Jenny's doing happy crying. You remember happy crying?" She wrapped her arms tightly around Jenny.

"I didn't know he was going to do that," she sobbed.

"Me neither," Joy said, and her voice was thick with tears, too. "He's one special guy, isn't he?"

"Told you—told you so."

Joy grinned at her. "Yeah. You did. I owe you for introducing us."

Jenny handed Joy a paper napkin and used one to wipe away her own tears.

Sam got out the fortune cookies and passed them around.

Joy paused as she read her message. "Hmm, it sounds mysterious.'You will help a friend to see what she has not seen.'" She tried to see Jenny's. "What does yours say?"

"Not as mysterious as yours—kind of stereo—stereotypical," Jenny said, shrugging.

"Jenny!"

"You will have a long and happy life." She picked up her green tea.

Joy propped her elbow on the table, her chin in her hand, and regarded Jenny. "I like that one. So, tell me about this Matthew."

She nearly did a spit-take. "Matthew?"

Nodding, Joy stared at her intently. "Yeah. Matthew. David told me there was this guy who seemed to be crazy about you. So spill it. I want all the details."

"He's just a friend," Jenny tried to say.

"Jenny!"

"Joy!" she returned.

But Joy was as relentless as her husband.

"Well, I was a teenager when I met Matthew," she began.

 

 

Jenny went home the next day.

That was the way she had come to think about her grandmother's house, she realized. The trip to New York City had been emotional for her, seeing the places she'd lived and worked, the coworkers and friends, the doctors who had cared for her and helped put her back together.

As the limo pulled up to the old farmhouse, she saw the door open. Children tumbled out and ran to meet her.

"You came back!" Annie cried as Jenny stepped out of the car.

"I promised, didn't I?"

Annie wrapped her arms around Jenny's legs. "Yes."

Joshua and Mary had come out, too, but they hung back, letting Annie go first.

Jenny held out her arms and they ran into them.

Her throat tight, she looked up. Matthew stood in the doorway, watching her. "Hello, Jenny. Welcome back."

"Thank you."

He walked down the steps and enveloped her in a warm hug, then smiled down at her. "Let's get you in from the cold." He took her arm and led her into the warmth of her grandmother's home.

Joshua took the suitcase from the driver and waited for his sisters to walk ahead of him.

Phoebe was pulling a big roasting pan from the oven. She set it down and held out her arms to Jenny. "Welcome home!"

Jenny rushed into them and hugged her. "Oh, it's good to be back."

"Things went well?"

How to answer that?
thought Jenny. "Yes," she said. "Yes, they did." She patted her purse. "I can show you David's interview."

"It's in your purse?"

"Something to look at it is, yes," said Jenny.

She glanced back at the children, who were taking off their coats. "We'll look at it later."

"Perhaps we could see it, too?" Matthew asked quietly.

Jenny searched his face. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

She drew him aside as Phoebe was getting the children to help her finish supper preparations.

"Matthew, there are scenes on it of children who are suffering," she said quietly. "And the scene—the scene where the bomb hit me. I don't think they should see it until they're older. Especially Annie."

"We talked, the children and I, after that night we talked about war," he said, looking at her. "There are things you protect your children from, and things that they should know so that they can understand, so that they can make better choices, like whether this is the life for them. They need to know that being
Englisch
is not bad, right?

"And as much as we would like to protect them, we can't— maybe shouldn't—protect them from knowing that bad things happen?"

Nodding, she kept looking at him.
There is something different about him tonight,
she thought. "Is this . . . a truce?"

"There was never any need for that with us, was there? We talked about things before you left, remember?"

She glanced at the children, then back at him. "I don't know. Sometimes it seemed as if you didn't trust me. It hurt."

"I was afraid, Jenny."

She stared at him. "You—afraid?"

"I don't want those I love to be hurt—especially my
kinner.
Do you understand?"

She didn't answer for a moment. "Yes, I do. Especially after you went through the long illness with your wife."

She looked into the kitchen where the children were talking with her grandmother, then back at him. "It's hard, Matthew. I can't help remembering how you frowned at me so many times that last night I was here."

"You said you were going home."

"I said I was going to New York City."

"Isn't that where you live?"

"It's where I live. But I don't think of it as home."

"Matthew? Jenny? Dinner is ready," Phoebe called.

Jenny started to turn, but Matthew put his hand on her arm so that she would look at him.

"Where do you consider home, Jenny?" he asked with an urgency about his question, a tension that radiated from him.

"Here in Lancaster County, Matthew," she said simply."Here."

He let out his breath and nodded. Taking her hand, he walked with her into the kitchen and helped her with her chair. She looked up at him and smiled, and when she looked away, she caught the children watching.

It felt good to be back here in the kitchen, listening to the happy chatter of the children. They told her all about what had happened while she was gone: the taffy pull, the ice-skating, the silly things a friend had done or said. Just happy chatter.

They wanted Jenny to tell them what she'd done every minute while she was gone. She talked about David and Joy and especially about Sam. They laughed when they heard that Sam called Jenny silly names like Jenny Banana. They'd never had Chinese food so she promised to try to make some one night.

"Do you cook this Chinese better than biscuits?" Joshua teased, and she laughed and reached over to tousle his hair.

After dinner, they washed the dishes. They didn't ask, as Englisch children might have done, if she'd brought them something back. So she really enjoyed opening her suitcase and surprising them with the small presents she'd bought. For Annie she'd found an animal alphabet book with buttons to press to hear their names. The book wasn't just beautifully illustrated—the sounds would also help Annie with pronunciation. There was a book on horses for Joshua, who loved them. And shy Mary got a journal to write in, one that had a key to keep nosy siblings out of, Jenny whispered to her.

Jenny saw Phoebe frown as she watched Mary look at the journal. She wondered if there was a reason she shouldn't have bought it, but when Phoebe looked up and saw Jenny standing before her, she smiled.

"You didn't need to get me anything," she protested as Jenny handed her a package of fabrics for quilting.

Then Jenny turned to Matthew and gave him his present."It was hard to find something for you," she told him as he ripped away the wrapping paper.

"Why? I'm easy to please."

"He loves everything we give him," Mary agreed. "He keeps everything, all the things we make him for Christmas and birthdays."

Matthew discovered it was a book about farming.

"You probably know everything in it," she said, watching him.

"There's always something new to learn," he said. "Thank you, Jenny."

He and the children lingered, not looking like they wanted to go home though the hour grew late. Annie climbed up into Jenny's lap and rubbed her eyes. But she protested when her father said it was time to leave. Jenny looked at Matthew and mouthed to stay a little longer. So even after Annie stopped rubbing her eyes and simply fell fast asleep in Jenny's arms, they stayed.

 

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