The whole weekend loomed in front of me like a vast ocean of shark-infested waters. I had nothing to do and I was afraid to close my eyes. By 11:00 on Saturday morning, I had already climbed the Eiffel Tower at the Y, bought a week’s worth of cereal and bread, and balanced my checkbook.
My plan had been to spend a nice, quiet afternoon in the office where I could work in peace while everyone else did things with their families. I’d intended to get the security guard to let me into the conference room on the sixth floor where I could spread out my charts on the long table, at least until I listened to Letitia’s voicemail from the night before. I heard traffic sounds in the background as she shouted, “I don’t know what kind of sob story you gave HR, Blaine, but that Vanessa woman rained down some hell fire on me this afternoon. All I asked was for them to dock your pay for the time you were at their little stress management seminar. You don’t seem any more relaxed, and I had to put together the report for Mariano all by myself. Which they hated!” Brakes squealed in the background. I heard Letitia swear under her breath about a spilled drink. Then, she was back, yelling at me. “You may be smart enough to have conned HR, but I’m not buying it. I know there’s something going on. I’m not going through another Reynolds. Or even another Logan thing. You hear me? Take the weekend and get your act together!” I couldn’t remember who Reynolds was. Logan may have been the tall guy who sat near the recycling bin. He missed a lot of work when his wife was sick. Letitia fired him the day after the funeral.
I was cursing my fate while scrubbing the kitchen floor when my cell phone rang from the living room. It rang three times before I wrestled off my rubber gloves to find the phone in my backpack.
“Lara?” a breathy voice crackled through the phone.
My stomach dropped. Oh my God, Mama! They’ve found me! I stabbed the off button. The phone immediately rang again in my hand. I tried to sound like a large dangerous man as I barked, “What?” into the phone. If Mama and Dale had tracked me down, I didn’t want them to think I lived alone.
“Hello?” the voice said. “I’m trying to reach Lara Blaine. This is Jane Babcock-Roberts. I’m a friend of hers from the hospital?”
I dropped the phone. It bounced off the couch. “Hello? Is someone still there?” was muffled by the carpet. I seized the phone.
“Yes. Yes, I’m here.” I raked my fingers through my tangled hair and pulled my T-shirt down straight. “I’m sorry, I thought it was a telemarketer.”
“I hate those people, too,” Jane scoffed. “How are you? I’ve looked for you at the hospital.”
I slumped down on the couch. “I haven’t been there much. Just twice since I saw you.”
“Really? I seem to be there all the time lately.”
“How’s the chemotherapy going?”
“It’s awful. But that’s not why I called. I was just sitting here—that’s about all I can manage these days—and something told me to call you.” It made my heart skip a beat to hear that Jane had been thinking about me. “Are you busy today? Could you meet me for coffee later on?”
“Sure,” I stammered. My blood felt like club soda in my veins. Is this what people feel like when they are asked out on a date? “I could do that today.”
“Good. There’s a teashop in East Lake Shopping Center called Annie’s or Amy’s. How about four o’clock? We’ll do afternoon tea.”
“Okay, I’m sure I can figure out how to get there. See you then.” I jumped up and bolted up the stairs to get ready.
What does one wear to afternoon tea?
I wanted to look pretty for Jane. I found an old black dress in the back of the closet that, after running it through the dryer for a few minutes to get the dust out of the shoulders, I hoped would be passable. I felt like Elizabeth Bennet being summoned to Rosings Park in Pride and Prejudice.
In the end, the teashop wasn’t as grand as I feared, or hoped. It was wedged between a children’s second hand clothing store and an auto parts distributor in a half empty strip mall. The place was a riot of cabbage rose and ivy patterns only occasionally broken up by white lace doilies. I chose a table in the window with two chintz-covered wingback chairs separated by a pink linen draped table. The only other patrons on this Saturday afternoon were a mother having a tea party with three ruffle-and-bow-covered little girls and two elderly ladies thoroughly enjoying some lemon tarts. In my excitement, I had allowed myself far too much time to get lost and arrived twenty minutes early. I used the time to read up on tea.
Jane pulled up in the grey Jaguar and laboriously pulled herself out of the low car. I could see she was even thinner than the last time I saw her. Her long silk sweater couldn’t hide how much her slinky knit pants drooped over her driving moccasins. The short walk from the parking lot visibly winded Jane. She slumped into the soft armchair and wiped away a thin layer of perspiration from her upper lip with the linen napkin. I was glad I had chosen that table instead of one of the ice cream parlor tables at the back of the shop.
Jane glanced around, taking in the hundreds of teapots and knick-knacks crammed into every available inch of wall space. “Wow, this place is something. I’m not sure if I love it or hate it. I’ve wanted to come here for ages and never had the time. Now I have the time and I can’t go anywhere.”
“It does make you think of the Mad Hatter and the March Hare.”
Jane smiled awkwardly as if she had no idea what I was talking about. “So did you look at the menu? What exactly is afternoon tea?”
I sat up straight in my chair and smoothed my dress over my knees. “You can have an assortment of cakes and sweets or an assortment of little sandwiches. Or you can get the works, which is a little of everything. They have a long list of teas, or you can have coffee, or a cold drink. It’s a tea shop, so I think we should get tea.”
“I’m tempted to just have coffee, but I agree—we should go for the full experience.” Jane patted her forehead with her napkin. Some makeup came off with her perspiration; her skin was grey under her mask. “You never know when we’ll get the opportunity again,” she said wistfully. “I’m exhausted from the walk in here. You order.”
A bubble of proud satisfaction welled up in my chest as I signaled to a woman as short and round as a teapot. She rushed over to take our order. I suppressed a giggle as I ordered tea for two and pots of both Irish Breakfast and Earl Gray teas. When the woman disappeared into the back Jane asked, “What’s so funny?”
“It’s just that when she walked up I couldn’t get the image of Mrs. Tiggy-winkle out of my head. I half expected her to ask me if I knew where the missing penny was.”
“Mrs. Tiggy-winkle? From the children’s book? Oh my goodness, that is funny.” The woman quickly returned with rose strewn pots of tea. We both giggled behind our napkins. “Oh Lara, this is already the most fun I’ve had in weeks. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you meeting me today. It’s nice just to get out of the house.”
I blushed. “I was glad to get out, too.”
“I escaped, actually. Tom went back to his apartment to take care of a few things and I snuck out. He is giving up his lease and moving into the house until I can go back to work.” Jane arranged the collection of petite forks and spoons beside her plate. “He’ll be angry that I’ve left the house.”
“What do you mean?”
“My son has become my jailer as well as my usurper these days. I’m not supposed to be exposed to germs, so I’ve been under house arrest for the last few weeks. Tom won’t even let me go the grocery store or go pick up a video. Would you believe he won’t let me drive my own car anymore?”
I eyed the gorgeous little sports car gleaming in the parking lot and understood Jane’s indignation at being denied access to it. “He insists it’s not safe for me to drive while I’m taking all these drugs.”
“What did your doctor say about that?”
“Tom actually hid my keys from me.” She proudly dangled a single key attached to a dealership’s promotional fob from one long finger. “He didn’t know I had a valet key in a drawer.”
“What about your business?”
“I was keeping up pretty well for a while there, even though I felt weak. But once I started the chemo, it became very obvious, very fast that I’m going to have to step back for a while. Tom is pinch-hitting for me right now. He already knew the ropes. He worked for me several years after he got his MBA but it didn’t work out. I’m afraid Tom and I are a bit too much alike. We can’t both be the boss.”
“So you’re not working at all right now?”
“I tried to after the first chemo treatment.” Jane shuddered and took a long slow sip of hot tea. “Oh, that feels good. After that first chemo treatment I was chomping at the bit to get back into the office. I was tired of laying in bed feeling like crap and worrying about Tom. I don’t ever want him to feel I’m a burden. I don’t want to be that kind of mother.
“Anyway, I was driving myself so crazy thinking about the mountain of things that needed to be done that I pushed myself to go back before I really should have. I kept telling myself that no one else was capable of doing the things I do.” She rubbed her chest. “Well, at least I thought they weren’t.”
“I appreciate Tom staying at the house and keeping me company, but I don’t like him interfering in my work life so much. At home, I’m his mother and I’m willing to indulge him, but at the office, I’m the boss. Or at least I used to be.”
“What do you mean?”
Jane played with the sugar cubes in a small dish at the center of the table forming them into a series of pyramids. “He has completely taken over. I hired this girl, Candace, a year or so ago. She was supposed to hold the wives’ hands when they can’t seem to decide on counter tops and light fixtures. Tom’s got her making major design decisions. The other day at dinner he let it slip that she is switching out the granite counters that I had ordered for the Riley job with poured concrete. Concrete!”
I tried to look incredulous even though I didn’t know a counter top could be poured anything.
“Anyway, I was so excited to be back in the office, I forgot to bring any anti-nausea medicine. The morning went okay, but by noon I felt pretty queasy. I should have called Tom to bring the pills, but I didn’t want him to make me go home. At one point, my assistant had to help me into the bathroom to be sick. Then, of course, getting sick made the coughing start up again, so I… it was awful. I ended up taking a nap on the couch in my office.”
“So what happened?” I refilled Jane’s teacup with more Earl Gray.
“Hours later, I woke up with my stomach still spinning. I could hear Tom talking behind me. He sat at my desk talking to the electrical contractor. I turned over to tell him to push for limited overtime and started coughing and gagging all over again. I wonder if they got the stain out of the carpet.” Jane took another slow sip of tea. “Tom was really great. He didn’t freak out that his mother was yakking all over the floor while he handled the contractor.” Jane smiled wryly. “I trained him well. He says he is there to pick up the slack, but that was pretty much it. He hasn’t allowed me to go to the office for more than an hour or two since.”
“Do you think you’ll go back after the chemo is over?”
“You bet! And the first thing I am going to do is fire that ninny, Candace. She is letting the clients walk all over her. I haven’t been taking care of my daddy’s company for the last twenty-five years to have the likes of her run it into the ground.”
The proprietress waddled over under the weight of an immense tray of little cakes and cookies. A skinny girl, probably the teapot’s daughter, followed with a tray of miniature sandwiches that fit on top of the first. Jane’s eyes widened at the array of tasty morsels.
“I’m so glad you were home when I called.” She looked out the window not seeming to focus on anything. “I spend the days right after each treatment lying in bed in a kind of drug-induced stupor. I’ve thought about you many times. When I ran into you the other day, I don’t know, you seemed blue.” Jane arranged the tea sandwiches into neat rows. “I think I am losing my mind some days. I don’t know what to do with myself. I didn’t realize how much my work filled up my life.”
“I like to read,” I replied. “Do you read much?”
“I don’t.” Jane coughed into her napkin, at first quietly, then with increasing severity. The other women in the shop stopped chatting and stared. I tried to act as if nothing was amiss. Jane was obviously more ill than she was letting on. Perhaps her son is right to not want her to leave the house right now. What if she stops breathing? I splashed some more tea into Jane’s cup and casually stood up to hold it to Jane’s lips. I pat her back and noticed that while Jane had been coughing the scarf tied jauntily around her head had slipped back to expose the edge of a wig. It was a good imitation of her blonde hair, but it did not move the way real hair would. I discreetly straightened the wig before primly sitting down. I glared at the one old woman still staring.
“Thank you,” Jane gasped. “You’re very sweet.”
My heart did a little dance. No one had called me sweet since I was a little girl. I am not a sweet woman. I’m wicked smart, but I’m also prickly and sullen. I know that.
Jane tightened the knot of the scarf around her head. “This thing refuses to stay on. Tom bought me a pack of knit caps to keep my head covered at home. I bought this thing because I thought I would be going out to meetings. Not so much.” Jane popped a cucumber sandwich into her mouth and contemplated a cracker topped with chicken salad. “You know, this whole cancer thing really shows you who your friends are. The other day I called Annemarie Stoppard to see how the gala preparations for the Art Guild were going. I felt bad that I was not able to make all the meetings and offered to make phone calls or send e-mails, but she cut me off and said, ‘Oh no dear. It’s all under control. You rest.’ It’s like she’s already got me dead and buried. I have known that woman for over twenty years and she did not as much as ask how I was feeling.”
“That’s awful.” I tried a miniature éclair with pink frosting. It melted into sweet goo in my mouth.
“How did your friends react when you told them?”
I waved off the question with a watercress sandwich. “I don’t have any. Mmm, those little pink things are delicious.”
“Oh come on, how could you not have friends? But you said the other day you didn’t have family around here. Isn’t anyone taking care of you?”
I shook my head as I popped the little sandwich in my mouth.
“Oh my God, listen to me carping about how my social contacts are snubbing me and my son is being difficult. You’re all alone. I’m sorry, Lara. I didn’t mean to be such a bore. You must think me so whiny.”
“Not at all,” I replied. “I absolutely understand where you’re coming from. I’d be mad, too.”
“It hasn’t been all that bad. People did bring casseroles and flowers right after the news spread about my diagnosis. That was nice, but it only lasted a week or so. I haven’t heard from any of those people since. Even the people who work for me, people I pay, seem to have forgotten about me.”
“People don’t want to know. If it doesn’t affect them, they don’t care.”
Jane snorted in agreement while signaling the waitress to bring us some more tea. She put several scones with clotted cream on her plate then pulled her leg up under her like a young girl. “All this stuff is yummy. This is the most I’ve eaten in weeks,” she tittered. “So what’s going on with you? How are you feeling? When do you start the radiation treatments?”
“Next week.” I drained my teacup and then gave in to an impulse. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or maybe the sugar rush from the tiny cakes, but I told Jane about the simulation. I told her how it felt like the simulation medium was burning my flesh off my bones and about the nightmares. Jane listened. She sat there and listened to every word. She didn’t run away. She didn’t poo poo me or quickly change the subject. She didn’t tell me I was being silly. She listened.
When I finished, Jane reached across the table and took my hand. With tears puddling on her few remaining lashes, she whispered, “You poor thing.” She wiped the tears away and laughed, “And I thought I had it bad. I hate that you are so frightened.”
That night, I fell asleep and slept through until morning. Although Jane had not taken any of my fears away or solved any of my problems, she had given me a gift that I could not comprehend at the time. She had listened. In doing so, she had somehow lifted my load, or perhaps, she had simply shared it.