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“I’m telling you this because I have to atone for my sins. I did more to push Wayne away than you did. We had some talks, and he always took your side. That hurt, and it blinded me. By the time I realized what I had done, it was too late. That’s what always happens. It gets too late.”
“I understand, Wynelle, I really do. Believe me, there were times when I thought Wayne was the most selfish man on the planet. How could he run off and leave me? If I hadn’t loved him so much, I would have moved on.”
“Jasmine, it’s too late for Wayne, but I can make amends with you. I want you to know that you’re always welcome here. I would appreciate it if you would bring Emily by on occasion. I’ve neglected her because I was mad at you. That’s wrong. The devil gave me blinders. I couldn’t see the harm I was doing.”
“You haven’t neglected her,” I said. “She loves you. I will make sure to have her visit. To tell the truth, she’s going to outgrow me too. Before long, she’ll be a teenager. She won’t listen to me or you or anyone but her friends. I know that will happen. I also know I won’t like it. What mother does? It’s part of growing up. Pain is part of living. No one escapes it.”
Wynelle reached out, and I took her hand. Her fingers were cold, her grip weak. I suddenly realized that she was dying, really dying. Death stared her in the face, and she knew she had to pay for her misdeeds before the reaper knocked on the door.
“What is it?” I asked.
She looked at me, tears in her eyes.
“I can tell,” I said. “And I won’t talk to anyone about it.”
“Cancer,” she said, “someplace beyond stage four. You can’t smoke like I did and expect nothing to happen.” She half laughed. “It sounds stupid, but for years, I thought I had some special immunity. My daddy smoked, and he was seventy when he rolled the tractor and died. He never coughed a day in his life. I took that as a sign. I should have known better.”
“How long?”
“Not long.”
“Does Graham know?”
“Yes, but he’s sworn to secrecy. So are you.”
I knew many people hid their illnesses, especially the ones that would put them in a grave. To me, that was foolish. They would never need more friendship. Why would they deny that need?
“There are people who can help, who can ease the pain,” I said.
“When my father died, I said the same thing to my mother. She asked me if I could take the acceptance from her. I asked her what she meant. She said the hardest thing in life was accepting the things you couldn’t do anything about. To her way of thinking, far too many people tried to change what couldn’t be changed. She would come to terms with what had happened. She wished she could pass that burden down to me, but she couldn’t. She would have to move on. She would have to accept.”
“Is there anything that can be done?”
“No. What you discover, Jasmine is that few people possess the wisdom that allows them to choose their fights. They fight everything, and so they lose a lot of battles. I could fight this. I could run down to Mexico and sign up for some treatment that won’t do any good. That would be a waste of money and time. I know the good Lord wants me to hang on. That’s part of our contract. He chooses when and how. I take the pain till that time comes. I accept.”
I held Wynelle’s hand for half an hour. We didn’t talk much more. She had confessed and begged for forgiveness. My touch was my approval. It was enough for both of us. I thought it odd that Wayne’s death had made us closer than ever. Although I would go back to Chicago, the tie to a farm outside Jacksonville would be stronger than ever. Life was funny that way.
The cold wind reminded me that Emily was waiting. Wynelle’s gasp told me she was in pain. I had kept her outside too long.
“If you can see your way to do it,” Wynelle rasped, “I’d like to see Emily again.”
“Of course,” I answered. “We’re coming back for Christmas, which is a couple weeks away. I’ll bring her by.”
“That would be thoughtful. Is there anything special she wants for Christmas? Santa Claus will get it for her.”
“I think she’s ready for a new phone. I’ll go halves with you.”
“No, you won’t. I won’t have many more chances to give her stuff. I’d like this to be from us.”
“Sure. Do you have a phone, Wynelle?”
“I do. Graham gave it to me, so I could call him if I felt ill. It’s a nice phone. I won’t use it to say I’m sick. He knows that. It’s his way of showing me that he loves me. Me not bugging him is my way.”
“I’ll make sure Emily calls you on a regular basis. They won’t be long calls. You know how children are. I hope you won’t mind.”
“Anytime, anytime. I’ll look forward to hearing her voice.”
“Time to get you inside before you freeze,” I said.
