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“Actually?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
She smiled and nodded.
“We had a lead on a major drug deal, and my partner and I were assigned with staking the place out,” I started. “We didn’t think it would be anything. You have so many moles in the business, bad information is quite common. And if the information is right, the dealers usually get a warning before we can do anything. It’s rare that we actually catch a deal of that magnitude when it’s actually happening.”
“But this was different?”
I nodded. “The dealers showed up. My partner, Raul, wanted to wait for backup, but I was sure that by the time the cavalry arrived, the dealers would have been warned. So, we went in.”
“How bad was it?”
“Bad enough that I spent three weeks in the hospital, a
nd another month at home with my twelve-year-old babysitting me and my father trying to keep our lives together. Two bullets almost ripped my guts apart, one missed my heart by a couple of inches, and two shattered my femur. I’ve recovered for the most part, but my leg’s still killing me. Some nights the pain is so bad I can’t even get out of bed.”
Jenni’s eyes were wide, and she looked at me with a mix of sympathy and concern. I wondered what was going through her head at that moment. Her eyes were fixated on me, staring at me for what seemed like forever, as if trying to read me, before she looked away and sipped at her coffee.
“Not a great story to tell at parties,” I tried to joke.
She looked up at me, her face clearly portraying that she wasn’t amused, and looked away again. “How did Kelly handle all that?”
I hesitated. I had always seen my daughter as a rock, and although I knew she had definitely been affected by the whole thing, she was quick to show that she was okay. We had never really discussed the shooting, or how she was doing. She never gave me a reason to believe that she was suffering from it.
“She took care of her old man, and did a pretty good job at keeping her head together, I guess,” I said. “We haven’t talked about it, really.”
“She’s a strong girl.”
“Takes after her mother,” I said.
Jenni looked up again. “How did she die?”
I choked a bit. I rarely talked about Janice with anyone other than my father, and even then, it was to remember something she said or did that had us both laughing out loud. The death part had always been something we avoided.
Come to think of it, you’re a family that loves to avoid touchy subjects.
True.
“Cancer,” I replied.
“Must have been hard.”
I nodded. “When it was bad,” I said. “She was strong, though, joked about it when she could. She loved life too much to let the sickness ruin her last days.” I hesitated. “I only realized that the thing was deadly when she was gone. She never made me feel like she was going to die. I think at some point I thought she’d fight it away.”
“I’m sorry,” Jenni said. She reached out and held my hand, and although I could see her do it, I couldn’t feel the touch. I had been brought back to a time I usually avoided reminiscing about, and the rush of emotions racing through me was overwhelming.
“It’s okay,” I said, trying to smile. “I have the memories of when it was beautiful, and that’s what I hold onto when I remember her.”
“Does Kelly remember her?”
I shook my head. “She was too young when it happened. When she asks about Janice, I share what I can, and make sure she knows that she was loved. It’s what Janice would have wanted. I never talk about the cancer.”
She squeezed my hand, and I smiled at her. I didn’t understand it, but for the first time ever, I didn’t mind talking about Janice with someone else. I was comfortable, too, as if this was right. Like Jenni had a right to know, for some reason.
“How about you drive me home, and go kiss your daughter good night?” Jenni smiled. “Besides, if I stay here any longer, you might have to carry me home.”
I chuckled, a little grateful at her attempt to lighten the mood. I nodded to the waitress and gestured for the check, noticing that Jenni was still holding my hand. And I was completely fine with it.
Chapter 12: Jenni
