What She Left Us (23 page)

Courtney
remembered her breakfast with the princesses and how she fell in love with
Jasmine, while all the other little girls had surrounded themselves around Snow
White and Cinderella. Courtney had Jasmine all to herself and she had fawned
all over Courtney. There was Courtney in the photo, standing next to Princess
Jasmine, her smile big and bright, with the princess of her dreams. Jenna had
waited and waited for time with Cinderella, and never got the chance for a
picture with her. Even then, they were so different, choosing completely
opposite princesses to love.

There
were pictures of them in the very backyard of their parent’s house, swinging on
the blue and yellow sturdy swing set, playing in the blow-up kiddy pool. They had
splashed for hours, blowing bubbles, having picnics, playing in the rain, doing
sister things. Had she ever not felt like a sister? As she went through the
pictures, she felt a grief she couldn’t understand, as if she were searching
through someone else’s life, of a person’s she would never truly know. Not her
own life.

Then
she found pictures pre-Courtney.

There
was Jenna, around age five, smiling at the camera, in her bathing suit. Courtney
took a couple photos out of the plastic sleeves of the album, and turned them
over. The digital dates on the back indicated it was spring before Courtney was
born. Courtney recognized the location of the photo – St. Petersburg, Florida,
where they had gone every year as children, and there was the big pink hotel in
the background. Jenna smiling, holding a sand bucket.

Courtney
turned the page, and there were more photos from that vacation. Jenna digging
holes in the sand, Jenna and her father walking hand in hand on the beach,
Jenna holding up a starfish she must have found on the beach, making a stinky
face. Jenna, cheeks sunburned.

But
the one photo, the one that dropped Courtney to her knees, that made her weep
for the loss of a family she thought she had, the one that made her doubt all
that she ever thought was true about her sole existence was the one she found
on the very next page.

It
was of her sister again, but this time her mother was with her. Her not-quite-five-year-old
sister, Jenna, was wearing a two-piece blue and white bikini. And then there was
her mother. Standing in the surf, she was wearing a sleek, black suit, grasping
onto Jenna’s hand, making sure the waves didn’t carry her daughter out to sea.
And with her other hand, she held wisps of her hair away from her face, and her
smile was enormous.

To
any other viewer looking at the photograph, one might decide the picture looked
infectious, contagious, evoking smiles and wonder about a mother and daughter
spending the day at the beach. All that ran through Courtney’s mind was:
thisisitthisisitthisisitthisisit.

This
is my undoing.

In
the photograph, her mother had a beautiful expression. She was looking sideways
toward a stormy sea, yet glimmers of sun shown still, cascading upon the two
subjects in the photo. Judging by how her mother was keeping the wind from her
face, a storm was brewing. Her mother was holding tightly onto Jenna’s hand,
shielding her from the wind as well, and Jenna’s face was turned into her
mother's thigh. The date on the back of the photo confirmed that it was taken
exactly two months before Courtney was born, and her mother, in the black, very
sleek, very revealing bathing suit, was the very opposite of pregnant.

Which
revealed only one terrible obvious certainty:

It
was true. Courtney was not her mother’s daughter.

Darren
was out for a run and Jenna stepped out of the shower and was toweling dry her
hair when her cell phone rang. It was the day after Thanksgiving and they
planned on driving down the coast and having lunch at a little place Darren said
had the most amazing crab legs. It was a little shack right on the beach that
only locals knew about, he said. They had live steel drum music, cold beer, and
the crab legs were so good and fresh, you didn’t even need to dunk them in
butter. Sunsets were supposed to be some of the most spectacular in the world,
and Darren said he had reserved a double hammock for the two of them. They were
going to stay the night in a quaint little beachside bungalow, snorkel in the
morning, lounge in hammocks in the afternoon, and come back later the next
evening.

Jenna
was sure this was when he was going to give her back the ring. This was when he
was going to say let’s give it a shot again. She was ready this time. Her head
was back on straight. They were getting along beautifully, they had spent the
past two days just being together, being themselves with one another, like they
used to be. And sleeping together in the same bed again – what a luxury. How
she had missed that. And she didn’t mean just the sex. Although that was incredible
too. But waking up next to him, being in his arms, seeing him next to her,
feeling his body next to hers, watching him watch her. Tracing his lashes with
her fingertips, down to his chin, touching him everywhere. Figuring him out
again. Taking the time she needed to remember why she fell in love with him,
why she loved him so much.

And
she was so proud of all he was doing, and he was great at his job – training
was going so well for him, and she knew he was there for a reason, a reason for
good. He was all about doing good, saving lives, and this was so important to
him. He had a purpose, a purpose for making people well, and this was what he
wanted to do in his life, and it was wonderful.

And
what did she want to do? She didn’t even really have a purpose? She had quit
school, gone to live with her sister. Her purpose now was to make herself well,
and to support him. Yes, that was what her focus was going to be. Maybe her
purpose was to support and love him. She could do that. Maybe her purpose was
to be a loving and supporting wife. Maybe, just maybe, getting the disease was
actually a wake-up call she needed, the wake-up call for her to slow things
down, take a step back and see what life had to offer, take stock in what was
important. That family was important, that Darren was important, that her
sister was important, that her life was important.

Her
thoughts were all over the place when she was drying her hair so when she
reached for her phone she missed Courtney’s call.  Jenna figured she was
checking in after Thanksgiving and she would call her after Darren re-proposed.
Was that even a word? Do men re-propose marriage?

She
sure hoped that was Darren’s plan.

Because
she was absolutely ready to say yes.

After
Courtney figured out what she thought she already knew, she went through
everything else in the closet, and her mother’s drawers, further tearing the
room apart like a burglar ransacking a house. She found all sorts of random
paperwork, old report cards, tax documents, bills, expired passports, but not
what she was looking for – her birth certificate. Why had she never had a copy
of that? And where the fuck was it? More importantly, who the fuck was she?

Finally,
late into the night, she gave up. She crawled into her mother’s bed, and pulled
the crocheted blanket over her exhausted body.

She
was ready to sleep.

But
she couldn’t. Memories of her childhood kept her awake. She remembered all of
the times they were a family. And she remembered all of the times she felt lost
in her family, like she didn’t belong. She thought of when her father had left.
When she was only eleven. She and Jenna had thought it was something they had
done for such a long time, but their parents had insisted the divorce had
nothing to do with them. But now that she thought about it, maybe it was her
fault. Had Courtney’s existence caused problems in her parent’s marriage,
caused them to fight and then later end it all? She knew they fought behind
closed doors often, but there was never another woman, or a seemingly outward legitimate
reason for their divorce.

Once
their dad was gone, and it was the three of them, things were better for a
little while, but still, most of the concentration had been on Jenna – plans
for her going to college took precedence over what Courtney was doing in middle
school, and then, soon after, Jenna left.

Courtney
remembered the day Jenna left for college. It had been one of the saddest days
in Courtney’s life. She was going to a small school down state about five hours
away, and Courtney couldn’t believe her sister was leaving her. She had been so
mad at her choice of where to go to college. How could Jenna choose that school
over a closer one? How could she want to leave her? The car was packed full of
crates and clothes, and things a freshman would need for school – new bedding
and supplies, and all Courtney had done the weeks prior to Jenna’s departure
was sulk and ignore Jenna. They hadn’t even spent time together those last few
weeks they had together.

When
Jenna tried to hug her goodbye, Courtney kept her hands at her sides. She felt
her eyes filling up as her sister held onto her, as Jenna told her how much she
loved her and how much she was going to miss her. She promised to write, and to
call, and to send pictures, and she already planned for Courtney to visit at
Little Sibs weekend, which was coming up in October.

And
all Courtney did was stand there like a statue, waiting for her sister to
leave. She was so mad at her, and she was so sad at the same time, she didn’t
know how to express her anger and her fears. So she waited until her sister
left. Until she drove out of her life for four years.

Courtney
was alone for a long while then. Going to school, doing homework, getting into
the typical teenage trouble. Her mother wasn’t around all that much, and Jenna
was away at college. That was a time in her life she’d never felt so alone.

Until
now.

Now,
she felt lost, completely alone, unsure of where her life was headed.
Completely unsure of who she was even. Sure that her whole life was a complete
mystery. Or worse, worried that her whole life was a complete lie.

“You’re
still my mother, aren’t you?” she whispered into the quiet of the room. “You’re
still my mommy.”

They
didn’t make it to the hammocks. Mitch called Jenna and said Courtney needed her
home, that there was an emergency and she was a mess and couldn’t talk.
Finally, when Jenna demanded he put her sister on the phone, he complied.

“Courtney,
what’s wrong?” Jenna asked, scared to death.

“It’s…
well, I need you home really bad,” she whimpered.

“But
Darren… ” Jenna whispered into the phone, “I think he’s going to ask me to
marry him again tonight.”

“Oh
God, Jenna, I’m so sorry… the doctor… it’s bad, well, I need you to come home.
Dr. Rhetler said I don’t have hemochromatosis.”

“What?
How can that be? You’ve been… I don’t get it? What’s wrong then? Why do you
keep getting sick and fainting? Are you pregnant? Tell me you’re not pregnant!”

“No,
it’s not that. I really need you home. Can you get on the next plane?”

“Yes.
Yes, I’ll do anything for you Court, anything. I love you.”

So
Jenna packed her bags and with eyes filled with tears, she explained to Darren
that she had to leave, that something was terribly wrong with Courtney but she
wasn’t exactly sure what had happened.

“Jenna,
you can’t leave now. Can’t this wait?” Darren asked.

“Dare,
I can’t, she needs me. Something bad’s happened, something she couldn’t explain
on the phone. Can you come with me?” Jenna begged.

“No,
they'll terminate my training.”

“Please?”

“We’re
finally getting stuff figured out. Can’t you go back Monday like planned? Can’t
you stay the weekend?” He sounded almost like he was begging, and Jenna
desperately wanted to call Mitch and Courtney back, to ask if they couldn’t
hold on for three more days, to put whatever it was on the back burner, to give
her this time to focus on herself. She’d been so consumed with taking care of
her little sister since their mom died, she hadn’t had time to do anything for
herself she felt, and she needed to figure out where she and Darren were
heading.

If
she left, she feared she would miss out on the opportunity for her and Darren
to make the commitment to one another again, which was what she wanted.

But
then, she got a hold of herself. It was her sister, her best friend, and something
was obviously seriously wrong. If she didn’t have hemochromatosis, was it
something worse? It was something bad enough that she couldn’t tell her on the
phone. She had to get home to find out what was the matter.

Darren
took her to the airport, his hands gripped tight onto the steering wheel, his
jaw clenched so hard she could see the muscles in his face twitching. When they
arrived, she kissed him goodbye, not knowing when she would see him again. “I’m
sorry Darren, she’s my sister. Something bad has happened, and she needs me.”

“I’ve
been waiting for you for months. Waiting for you to decide when
you’re
going to need me.”

“I
know,” Jenna said, tears in her eyes. “Please, please understand.”

“I’m
trying to understand, and I'm trying to be patient, but I’m ready for us to
build our lives together, and I can’t promise I’ll keep waiting.”