Beneath, You're Beautiful Page 15

  “Whatever you need.”

  “Don’t ignore the people that love you anymore. They need you just as much as you need them.”

  “I won’t.”

  “There’s a man I know who’s really hurting. He would do just about anything to be at your side right now, and you need to be by his. You need to understand that it’s okay to be loved . . . unconditionally.”

  “I know.”

  “Love has mysterious ways of finding you. Stop hiding from it.”

  “I need to work on a few things before I come out of hiding. When I’m ready, I promise I’ll be a better person. A person deserving of the love that’s offered. I just need more time.”

  “Fair enough. Your future is waiting to be written. . . . Don’t delay—time is of the essence,” Jillian cautioned as she came to a stop. “I think I need to start heading back to my car. I’m getting tired.”

  “Why don’t I give you a ride home? Bobbie Jo and I’ll come back and get your car.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she dismissed as she stumbled a bit.

  “No, you won’t. Come on.” I pulled her close to my side so I could provide extra support, and we started walking to the parking lot.

  *

  After I got Jillian home and settled in her condo, I grabbed her car keys and drove to Bobbie Jo’s house. I knew she wouldn’t be home for about an hour, but I wanted to be there when she walked in the door. We hadn’t spent much time together because she was spending more time with Jillian, but we resolved the snotty lunch episode in typical girlfriend fashion with the “I’m sorry I was being a bitch . . . so am I” routine.

  I was surprised to see her car in the driveway when I pulled up. Normally, I would let myself in, but something told me to knock instead. A few minutes later, she appeared at the door looking like hell.

  “What’re you doing here?”

  “I could ask the same. Shouldn’t you be at the office?” I asked as I walked past her and into the family room. Pictures were strewn across the floor and a pile of tissues were in a heap on the coffee table.

  As I got closer, I saw a large poster board laid out with pictures arranged on it. A light bulb went off and the realization hit me: she was putting together memory boards for a funeral . . . Jillian’s funeral. “What’s all this?”

  “Jillian asked me if I would help her get things ready.”

  I was shocked by this statement. “Ready? I just spent the last few hours with her, and other than being tired, she seemed fine. She was in amazing spirits. What’s going on?”

  “She is in amazing spirits—more so than anyone else. Our parents are flying in for the weekend, and Jillian wants to spend time together, just the four of us, and go over her wishes. She’s planning her funeral like one would plan a wedding, and I’m on the edge of completely falling apart. I’ve been assigned the task of sifting through pictures and creating photo boards for her funeral. She wants to look through them with Mom and Dad this weekend. It is freaking the hell out of me. It’s like she knows something and isn’t telling anyone.”

  “What do you mean? She’s being treated, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, I bring her every week to her appointments and have been picking up her prescriptions. But, something isn’t right.”

  “Have you gone in with her to meet with Dr. Guthrie to find out how treatment is going?”

  “Not lately. She’s told me there is no reason for me to go in with her, so I just wait in the waiting room.”

  “Maybe you should go back with her next week. Tell her you have a few questions for Dr. Guthrie. I’d ask, but it’d be no use since she can’t tell me anything. Do you want me to help you sort through these?”

  “Would you mind?”

  “Not at all. Let me clean up the pile of tissues and grab a bottle of wine. It’ll give us some liquid courage to get through this.”

  “Thank you. Your timing was perfect—which, by the way, why are you even here?” she asked with a puzzled look.

  “I drove Jillian home after our walk. She stumbled a bit back to the car and was pretty spent. It was easier for me to help her than to worry about her safety. We need to go pick up her car and drive it to her condo later.”

  “Thanks for doing that. She refuses to give up her independence—I’m surprised she agreed.”

  “She didn’t have a choice.” I pushed all the tissues off the table and into a trash bag. “Red or white?”

  “I need a good red to get through this.” She lifted her hands to showcase the mess of pictures covering the floor.

  The sun was setting as we finished cleaning up the pictures and put them back in the photo boxes Jillian had brought over. Propped up against the wall by the fireplace were two photo boards containing the last thirty-eight years of her life. Trips to Europe, Australia, South America, and Disney World were displayed next to photos from her childhood through college. It was beautiful to see them all, but bittersweet knowing what they were intended for.

  “Did you ever make collages back in high school with your friends?” I asked Bobbie Jo.

  “All the time—they were so much fun to make.”

  “I know. It’s a shame that people don’t make them more often as they grow up. Jillian is going to love these.” I beamed as I shut the last box. “Should we bring them over to her?”

  “We might as well since we have to pick up her car anyway. You okay to drive?”

  “Yep. I finished my glass of wine almost two hours ago. You good?”

  “Always. I’d be better if the cabana boys were here. That was a—cough cough—fun time.”

  “Ha!” I laughed. “I think I missed out on the fun you’re referring to, but I’ll take your word on it.”

  “I think we need a redo. We could all use a night of debauchery. It’s been too long.”

  “I’ll pass.”

  “Whatever.” She picked up the poster boards. “Let’s go.”

  Jillian was asleep on the sofa when we let ourselves in. We decided not to wake her; she needed her rest after the busy day. Bobbie Jo covered her with a blanket and left a note for her by the poster boards.

  Good evening, Sleeping Beauty,

  Victoria and I stopped by and didn’t want to disturb you. Hope you got some good rest and are ready for the Mom and Dad invasion.

  Love you big, Bobbie Jo

  *

  My parents arrived home from Gulf Shores on Friday night and were at my house bright and early the next morning. They were a little anxious to see me after spending the winter in the sunshine and far away from Minnesota. While my mom struggled with leaving me for a few months, she kept in contact frequently. I was, honestly, happy with them being gone; it was one less thing to stress about because my mom went all mother hen on me after Noah left. It took an intervention to get her to agree to go south like they did every winter.

  “Look at you.” My dad smiled. “Your hair is coming back in, and you look relaxed.”

  My mom wrapped me in a tight hug. “You’re as beautiful as ever. I missed you so much. Are you eating enough? You look a little slender. What do you want me to make you for breakfast?”

  “Mary, slow down.” He patted her on the shoulder. “Victoria, why don’t you go take seat at the breakfast bar, and we’ll make you breakfast and catch up on what’s new.” He winked.

  “You’re going to be here for a while,” I joked as I sat at the breakfast bar while my mom riffled through the fridge, pulling out eggs, bacon, and fruit.

  “It’s a good thing we have nowhere else to be then. Karl, will you get the bread out of the pantry?” my mom asked as she busied herself with cutting up a mango. My favorite. It was good to have them home.

  We spent the day catching up and talking about old times. Like the time I knocked out half my front tooth when I crashed my bike, and when they moved me to the dorms at college. They danced around the topic of Noah, so I came out and told them the latest on his life. Just then, at the age of thirty-two, I heard my dad curse
for the first time. Actually, he didn’t just curse—it was more of a poetic string of curse words that I didn’t realize went together that perfectly. I had to stifle my giggles when my mom glared at me. “Don’t encourage him,” she scolded.

  My dad pulled me into his arms when I told him about Jillian. “I’m sorry, baby girl. It’s so hard to watch someone go through what you did and know that their outcome will be different than yours. It’s not fair. But you need to know that Jillian is counting on you to make the most of your life and protect others from having to face breast cancer. You can honor her by making a difference in the lives of others. You have a purpose and a future that has many gifts still to offer you. Your mom and I love you and will continue to support you—just like Jen, Bobbie Jo, Dana, and Blake will.”

  I froze. They hadn’t met Blake yet, but they had spoken with him and knew we were spending a lot of time together. I had neglected to tell them that I hadn’t spoken to him for several weeks, and all because of my own insecurities.

  “Thanks. I have a great support system,” I reassured my dad as he released me from his embrace and stood up. “It’s getting late—you guys should probably get going. I’d like to go take a bath and go to bed. I need my rest with surgery in three days. I hope you don’t mind me gently kicking you out of my house.”

  My mom looked at me suspiciously, but she didn’t say anything when I gave her pleading eyes. “I understand. Karl, why don’t you go get our coats?”

  As my dad left to retrieve their coats, my mom pulled me into a hug and whispered in my ear, “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I do know that you haven’t spoken with Blake in a few weeks. I promised myself that I wouldn’t be the intrusive mother, but, Victoria, don’t make the mistake of shutting out a man who obviously cares deeply for you. You’ll regret it.” She kissed my cheek as my dad announced his arrival with the coats.

  “Jen is bringing you to surgery and staying with you, correct?” my dad asked as he helped my mom into her coat.

  “Yep. She’s staying over Monday night since we have to check in at six-thirty. Dr. McGuire assured me that the recovery this time around will be much easier than the first surgery, but Jen insisted on staying with me for a few days.”

  “Great. I’m glad she’ll be with you. I know you’ve requested only Jen to go with you, but we’d like to see you. Have Jen call us when you’re up for visitors.”

  “I will. Thanks for spending the day with me, I’m happy you’re home. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “You can count on it.” My mom winked. In other words, I would be screening my calls for the next few days.

  I flopped down on the sofa after they left and instantly started wondering which one of my friends had spoken with my mom about the Blake situation. Jen was the most likely candidate since she’s known them the longest, and with Jillian’s situation, I knew Bobbie Jo had more than enough on her plate. The sound of my phone ringing interrupted my thoughts, and I hopped up to grab it from the kitchen counter.

  “Hello?” I answered, not recognizing the number.

  “Victoria.” An all-too-familiar voice responded, and I didn’t know what to say. Out of morbid curiosity, I didn’t hang up. “Considering I didn’t hear a click, I’ll assume you’re still there.”

  Again, I didn’t respond.

  “I know you’re ignoring me, but we need to talk. I need to say a few things, and I’d prefer to do it in person.”

  “Not going to happen.”

  “Victoria, please . . .” he demanded.

  “Fuck you, Noah. You can’t walk out of my life like you did and expect me to have anything to say to you. You completely shattered my heart, and I will not make the same mistake again. Good luck with the baby,” I spat as I ended the call and threw my phone across the room.

  Shit. I rushed over to make sure I hadn’t broken it. The last thing I wanted to do was get another new mobile phone; it had only been a few months since I got a new one after the “morning after” shit storm. Noah had called Bobbie Jo the morning after I saw him with Stacey, and in a furious rage, she threw it against the wall, causing it to shatter. Thank God it was in one piece this time, so I could pull up the recent call list and block the number.

  My nerves were buzzing, and there was no way I would be able to calm them sitting here. I needed to get out of the house. Grabbing my keys and purse, I rushed out the door and hopped in my SUV with no phone and no destination in mind.

  I made the loop around Lake Harriet, Lake Calhoun, and Lake of the Isles. It was dusk, but there were still a few people out finishing up their runs and walking their dogs. Life was moving all around me, while mine felt stagnant and suffocating. I was supposed to be happy with my final major surgery just days away and the prospect of my life getting back to normal, but what the hell was even normal anymore?

  Somehow I ended up at Dana’s apartment overlooking Lake Calhoun and buzzed her unit.

  “Hello?” She sounded a bit groggy over the speaker.

  “Hey, it’s me, Victoria. Can I come up?” I asked and instantly heard the buzz of the door unlocking to let me into the secured building. I passed through the upscale lobby, nodding to the concierge, and took the elevator up to her floor. She was standing in the hallway when I arrived on the twelfth floor. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?” She rushed toward me with a concerned look.

  “No, everything’s not okay. I’m sorry to show up like this, but you’re the only one I can talk to right now. I’m so confused.”

  She wrapped her hand around my shoulder and guided me down the hall to her apartment.

  It was modern and spacious, with beautiful dark wood floors and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lake. “Can I get you a glass of wine?” she offered as I settled into a pile of pillows on her sofa.

  “Sure.”

  She set two glasses of wine on the table in front of the sofa and lit a few large pillar candles before sitting down next to me. “So, what’s going on?”

  “Do you have a few hours?”

  “For you, I have all the time in the world.” She handed me a glass of wine before she took a big gulp of hers.

  “Thanks.” I took a sip of mine. “I don’t know where to start. Between Jillian and my own insecurities about cancer, I’m struggling to find my purpose.”

  “That’s understandable. You’re still trying to figure out your own life, and the added concern of supporting Jillian while everything is still so raw for you has to be incredibly challenging. The most important thing for you right now is to take care of yourself. Bobbie Jo and Jillian’s friends are there to help her. The weight doesn’t fall all on your shoulders just because you battled breast cancer too. Jillian understands that you’re far from done fighting your battle. You aren’t any good to anyone else if you don’t take care of yourself.”

  “I know. I feel like I’m spinning plates in a circus act, and I can’t keep up. I’m waiting for them all to come crashing down. Then what?”

  “Then you clean them up, grab new plates, and try again. You’re not here to impress anyone or to be the best at everything—it’s just not possible. You are Victoria Madison. You were given this life to grow and to learn, just like the rest of us. The people who love you don’t expect you to be perfect. Your flaws are what make you special, and you need to acknowledge and accept them because they’re part of you.”

  “How do I move on? How do I put the past behind me and ignore it when it rears its ugly head?”

  “You just do. The only one who can make you happy is yourself, and you need to allow yourself to be happy. You moved on and found happiness with Blake. But you let the negativity of your past take over. You let the fear of dying hold you back. Victoria, you’ve done it. You conquered breast cancer—the hard part is over. It’s time to celebrate the future. It’s okay to be happy.”

  “I’m not sure how to be happy when Jillian is dying. In addition, Noah has made a few attempts to contact me out of the blue after
months of silence. Hence why I’m here tonight—he called me after my parents left, and I can’t handle him right now. I don’t know what he wants, and I’m afraid of what it will do to me.” I began to cry. “I’m afraid of the future. . . . I want to rewind to a year ago when everything was fine.”

  “No, you don’t. Things weren’t fine then—you just didn’t see it. Noah was going to leave you regardless. Nothing changed except he ‘tried’ to stick around for you longer. Such a noble asshole,” she scoffed before finishing her glass of wine. “You need to dry those tears once and for all and pull up your big-girl panties. You can’t change the past, so why keep looking back? You have a future, and you need to focus on getting there . . . with the help of those who love you. Stop keeping them at arm’s length and instead pull them into your arms and hold them tight.”

  I was lost in my thoughts, trying to make sense of everything Dana had just dumped on me when she stood. “Ready for another?” She nodded to my partially full glass.

  “No. I’m good. I have to drive home anyway.”

  “Nonsense—you’re spending the night with me. I’m not about to overload your brain and then send you home to stew about it all night. You’re going to finish this bottle with me, and perhaps we’ll open a second. It’s time to relax and let the troubles that have been weighing you down disappear. I want my Victoria back, and so does everyone else. Blake is miserable.”

  “What?” She fully captured my attention with that comment. “How do you know?”

  “I saw him at the grocery store the other day. He was picking out melons, and I couldn’t refrain from making a joke, which caught his attention.” She locked her eyes on mine. “He looked like hell, Victoria. His eyes didn’t have that sparkle like they did when you were around, and I could hear the sadness in his voice when he asked about you. He needs you just as much as you need him. When are you going to realize that he loves you and would do just about anything to make you happy? Stop making excuses and contact him . . . before it’s too late.”

  He probably knows I’m scheduled for surgery on Tuesday, but I guess I could send him a text or drop him a note. “Yeah, maybe I’ll do that. Better to focus on Blake than Noah.”