Moments We Forget Page 2
“You look fine, Payton. This is a book club, not a formal affair. Grab yourself some coffee and I’ll get your water.” I retrieved a glass from the closest cupboard. “I thought I could walk you both through the kitchen—tell you about our renovation plans—before we sit down and talk about the book. Zach was here last night, finalizing everything.”
There was no overlooking how Payton’s eyes lit up at the mention of Zach. Maybe someday soon she’d share more about their relationship. For now, she maintained a “just friends” demeanor and kept all details to herself. Of course, even friendship with the man she once blamed for Pepper’s death would be considered progress by a lot of people.
“I still don’t understand why our family—and Payton in particular—is so chummy with Zach Gaines.”
Payton stiffened at Johanna’s comment.
“Zach helped us select these beautiful white cabinets—” I spoke up, hoping if I kept talking, I could divert the brewing tension—“that he’ll custom design and install for us. A few will have inset glass. They’ll work so well with the countertops we picked out. The counters are made from pressed paper, if you can believe that.”
“Pressed paper?” Johanna’s brow furrowed as if I’d suggested we were using blue-lined notebook paper for our kitchen counters.
“It’s a new green alternative. We selected a pewter color. Between enlarging the window over the sink and knocking out the wall between the kitchen and the dining room, everything is going to feel so open and light.”
Payton finished chugging her glass of water, ignoring Johanna’s glare. “Zach told me that he also agreed to be the project manager.”
“Geoff asked him about that when we first started discussing renovating the kitchen. What with Geoff taking on some extra projects at work and me being gone at the bank, we figured we needed someone to oversee the renovation. Zach talked with his boss, who agreed to a four-day workweek for him in the office and one day from home.” My explanation was more for Johanna’s benefit than Payton’s, who I’m certain already knew this. “Geoff and I have so much more peace of mind, knowing Zach is going to make certain everything stays on track.”
“What else are you planning?”
Before I spoke, I prepped Payton’s coffee, silently counting off three sugars. “We picked out dark wood floors last weekend. And I finally decided to splurge on a waterfall counter for the island. I also asked Zach to check on replacing the back door with French doors.”
“Those will be expensive.” Johanna found plates and silverware, obviously ready to eat.
“Yes, but my bonus was bigger than we expected, and Geoff had been saving for this before we got married. Besides, we want to do the kitchen right and not have any regrets later.”
Johanna offered both of us plates. “You’ve been watching too many home makeover shows.”
My big sister was not going to talk me out of my fun—or convince me to be more economical. Geoff and I knew what we were doing. And it wasn’t as if we’d spent a lot of money on a lavish wedding.
“We’re considering this renovation a belated wedding gift to ourselves.” I added cubes of cantaloupe, honeydew, and watermelon to my plate. “We’re both ready to have this curling laminate pulled up. The old, worn cabinets torn out.”
Geoff and I were looking ahead—not back over our shoulders at everything that had overtaken us during the past year after my breast cancer diagnosis and treatment.
“Why don’t we each get something to eat, refresh our coffee if we need to, and go sit in the living room so we can talk about the book?” Winston scratched at the back door again. “I’ll let Winston inside and put him in his kennel.”
Payton selected a muffin, pausing to take the plate that Johanna held out to her. “Oh, don’t do that. He won’t be a bother.”
“Right.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “We all have food. You know he’ll wander around begging.”
“We won’t feed him, will we, Johanna?”
Johanna sniffed. “I’m not the one who sneaks food to that dog.”
“I’ll behave.”
“You’re as bad as Dad when it comes to Winston.”
In a few moments, we were all settled—Johanna and I on the couch and Payton in Geoff’s favorite oversize chair, with Winston sitting at attention at her feet.
Payton made a display of ignoring Winston’s whines. “So what did you all think of the first chapter?”
“I don’t like the idea of having to read a biography. I feel like I’m back in college.”
Payton groaned. “Johanna, you said that about the classics Jillian suggested—and this was the one book we all agreed on. Besides, I’m the one back in college.”
“I just think we should have looked at more options.”
“We made the decision to read this book.” Payton held up her copy. “We all bought it. It’s done.”
Before I could decide if I was going to jump in and referee this early, my phone pinged with a text message.
“This might be Geoff checking with me while he’s finishing up at the gym. He probably wants to see if we need anything at the store.” I angled the phone where it sat on the coffee table, ready to silence it. But instead of Geoff’s familiar face, Mom’s name appeared.
How are you feeling today? You’ve looked so tired lately that I was worried, but then Johanna explained that it’s a common side effect of the medication you’re on.
What?
I gripped my phone, rereading the message, ignoring the fact that Johanna and Payton were both watching me. “Johanna, you’re talking to Mom about my medication?”
“What do you mean?” Johanna sipped her coffee, eyeing me over the rim of her cup.
Before I could answer, there was another ping.
And I can understand if you’re also upset that you can’t get pregnant while you’re on Tamoxifen.
No. I pressed my lips together, struggling to think of what to say—how to respond to Mom’s text. To what Johanna had done.
If the first text was bothersome, the second one was as if Johanna had invited herself and all of the family—Payton, our parents—to my various doctors’ appointments. She might as well have included Beckett and Zach Gaines in the group, too.
“You told Mom that I can’t get pregnant?”
Johanna’s facial expression didn’t change as she took another sip of her not-French-press coffee before replying. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about these two texts from Mom.” I held up my phone. “She says you explained how my medication is making me tired. And told her that I can’t get pregnant while I’m on Tamoxifen.”
“Oh, that. We were talking . . . I can’t remember when. And she said she was worried about you.” Johanna nibbled on a cube of watermelon. “I took the time to explain things to her so she would understand what was going on.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because she was worried about you.” Johanna spoke slowly, as if I needed her to enunciate so I would be able to understand. “I just told her things everybody knows. Fatigue is a common side effect of that medication—”
“Everybody knows?” My voice was getting louder, but I didn’t seem to have any control over it. “Does everybody know I can’t get pregnant? Did you post it on a billboard along I-25?”
“Now you’re being ridiculous, Jill.” My sister dismissed my questions with a shake of her head. “People know you can’t get pregnant while you’re on Tamoxifen.”
“You know, Johanna.” Payton spoke up. “You know.”
“Of course I know. I’m a pharmacist.”
“That’s exactly my point.” Payton was in full-on offensive mode now. “You had no right to talk to Mom. Will you just admit you invaded Jillian’s privacy?”
It was as if I could see my words, Johanna’s words, and now Payton’s words swirling around me like a verbal tornado, the strength of it already threatening to pull me apart. Johanna leaned back. Payton l
eaned forward. Both of them ignorant of the increasing danger.
“I shouldn’t have said anything.” I tossed the statement like a white flag. “Can we just talk about the book?”
Payton twisted to look at me. “Are you kidding me? Of course you had to say something. Johanna never should have talked to Mom without asking you if it was okay first.”
“You’re both overreacting.” With a wave of her hand, Johanna dismissed both Payton and me. “Mom asked a few questions. I answered them.”
“You, of all people, know about HIPAA and patient privacy, Johanna.”
Johanna gritted her teeth. “We’re family, Payton.”
“Family takes care of each other. Family respects each other. You never have our backs.”
“It’s nice to know how you really feel.”
“It is how I feel. It’s how Jillian feels, too.”
And now I was being dragged into Johanna and Payton’s fight.
“Don’t speak for me, Payton.”
Payton’s eyes widened. Then she crossed her arms. “Fine. Speak for yourself.”
“I would, if I thought anyone was listening.”
At last I had my sisters’ attention.
Being with Johanna and Payton was like competing with athletes when you knew they played dirty—and wanted to win at any cost.
Silence.
No one was saying anything. And none of us had been listening to each other, either.
“Did you have something to say, Jillian?” Payton’s voice was quieter, but there was an edge to it, an unspoken challenge.
No matter what I said, one of my sisters would not be satisfied.
Better to focus on the original reason we were together.
“What I wanted to do today was have coffee and talk about a book.” I glanced at my phone again. Set it aside. Maybe I could let Johanna know how I felt about all this . . . just say it and be done with it. “Not find out Johanna had talked to Mom about my private life.”
“I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal about this, Jillian. You would have told Mom eventually.”
“Maybe. Okay, yes, I probably would have talked to Mom—but that’s the whole point.” I focused on Johanna, hoping she would understand. “I would have told her. Not you. Me.”
How did Payton and Johanna spend so much of their lives arguing with one another? Listening to them disagreeing, pushing and pulling for the chance to occupy the right position, always exhausted me. The rare occasion I stood up to Johanna wore me out within minutes. And now, with everything else going on, I might as well be trying to stand up for myself while running on an out-of-control treadmill.
“I don’t understand why you can’t see I was only trying to help. Mom was worried and I gave her the information she needed so she would be calmer.”
“It wasn’t your place—” Payton stepped back into the conversation.
Johanna immediately turned on her. “I was talking to Jill—”
Confronting Johanna had been a bad idea. I was the peacemaker, not the one who challenged her. That was Payton’s role.
“To get through this first book club meeting, are we going to need to pretend we’re back in elementary school and read our books in silence?”
My attempt at humor failed. Whatever fragile truce we’d declared the past few months seemed to rip apart.
“I think—” Johanna stood—“I’ll just call it for today.”
I scrambled to my feet, causing Winston to jump up from where he was resting in front of the fireplace. “Johanna, don’t leave.”
“Obviously my attempts to help Mom are being misinterpreted. And I didn’t come here to be attacked or to join a . . . a reading circle.”
And with that, Johanna collected her book and her purse and stalked toward the front door. Winston scampered around her feet, impeding her getaway.
I covered my face with my hands, the slam of the door echoing in my head. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Don’t be silly.” Payton sounded as if she wanted to laugh. “Of course you should have.”
“But now Johanna’s upset . . .”
“She wants you to think she’s upset. She’s made a scene and walked out, and she hopes you’ll call her later and apologize. That way she doesn’t have to say she’s sorry.”
“What?” I peered at Payton over my hands.
“Think about it. Has it ever occurred to you that Johanna likes to be upset? That she uses it to keep us in our place?” Payton offered me a smile. “Whatever you do, don’t call and apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But I—”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Payton slipped Winston a bite of blueberry muffin. “And I bet you that Johanna will still be here tomorrow with everyone else to prep for the renovation.”
Colorado Springs knew how to do Septembers.
The trees in our neighborhood were hinting at autumn with leaves changing to brilliant yellows and oranges and reds, even as the temperatures remained warm, but not in the “why is it still so hot?” range. September was like an anticipated visit with a pleasant friend who stopped by once a year and never overstayed their welcome.
I looped my arm through Geoff’s, my head just brushing his shoulder. His verbal command released Winston from a heel to walk in front of us.
“He’s doing well at obeying you when we’re out on a walk.”
“Better. He’s doing better.” His eyes shielded by both his glasses and the brim of the baseball cap that tamed his unruly brown hair, Geoff tugged on the leash to remind Winston that he wasn’t his own boss. “If he wasn’t on this leash, he’d take off running for no reason at all.”
“It’s such a nice afternoon. Although I do look forward to seeing snow on the Peak again.”
“Well, it’s shown up in August before, so it’s not impossible to happen anytime now.” Geoff adjusted his long-legged stride to my slower pace. He probably wasn’t even aware he’d developed the habit during the past months. “I just realized you never told me how the book club went this morning.”
“We may have had our first and last Saturday book club . . .”
“Oh, come on. What could go so wrong?”
“Well, Johanna walked out in a huff.”
Geoff chuckled. “What did she and Payton argue about this time?”
“They didn’t argue . . . well, they did. But it started off with me and Johanna arguing. . . .”
“You . . . argued with Johanna.” Now Geoff had the nerve to laugh—his familiar full-on head-thrown-back burst of laughter that caused Winston to glance back at him. “I’m supposed to believe that?”
I pulled away from Geoff. “I know, right? What would you say if I told you I snapped at Payton, too?”
“I would most definitely not believe that.”
“It was a mess.”
“I can see why you said it may be your first and last Saturday book club. The three of you couldn’t even discuss a book together?”
“It had nothing to do with the book.”
“What was the problem then?”
“I found out Johanna talked to Mom—without my permission—about my medication and the side effects. About the fact I can’t get pregnant until I’m off the Tamoxifen.”
“Okay.”
Geoff might as well have said, “Is that all?”
“Why aren’t you upset about that?”
He shifted the brim of his baseball cap. “I didn’t realize you expected me to get upset—”
“Geoff, that’s personal information!”
“Johanna told your mom, not a stranger.”
“Why are you taking her side?”
“Whoa.” Geoff stopped on the sidewalk, turning to face me and bringing Winston to an abrupt halt. “No taking sides here—and if I was, I would be on your side. Just processing things out loud, which I will stop doing immediately because it’s not helping either of us.”
I leaned closer to him
, resting my head against his chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how much it still bothered me. It didn’t help that I was tired and nervous about not having done enough to make things nice for the book club.”
“I’m sure Johanna and Payton were happy with what you had—”
“I told them about the kitchen renovation, and Johanna questioned all our choices. How much money we’re spending. And then we’d barely started talking about the book—and Jo was complaining again—and Mom texted, which is how I found out she knew about my not being able to get pregnant.”
Geoff slipped his arm around my waist, easing me forward, and started walking again.
“Maybe we should have said something up front to everyone, back when we decided to freeze my eggs. But it’s a little late to rethink our decision to keep that private, right?”
Geoff didn’t respond—keeping quiet like he often did when we talked about my cancer and especially when we talked about the reality that I might struggle getting pregnant. Always so careful not to upset me.
A few more moments of silence and then, “We’ll figure it out together—like we always do.”
“Was I wrong?”
“Wrong?”
“To get upset about Johanna telling Mom?”
Geoff stopped again. His eyes warmed as he leaned closer, his kiss gentle. “You know I will always be on your side, Jill.”
I closed my eyes, allowing the moment to lengthen. Forgetting we were on a walk, until Geoff jerked away as Winston pulled on the leash.
“Sorry.” He gave me a slow wink.
“It’s okay.” I faced forward as Geoff allowed Winston to tug him along. “So tell me, what’s going on with you?”
“Work got interesting yesterday.”
“When is cybersecurity not interesting?”
“True. But yesterday my boss asked me to consider speaking at a conference on ethics in cybersecurity.”
“Ethics?”
“Yes.” Geoff ducked under a low-hanging tree branch, filled with leaves turning a bright orange. “There are different ways to approach the issue, so I need to figure out if I want to do it and, if so, what they’re looking for.”