Danielle Steel - Fine things

“She always comes home in the morning, Grandma. Something's wrong, I know it.” She made Ruth call, but by then Liz was on her way home, and Ruth looked at Jane knowingly as the front door opened.

“See!” But what she saw and Jane didn't was that Liz looked much weaker than she had before and she seemed to be in pain although she didn't admit it.

But she refused to cut down her teaching. She was determined to finish the year, no matter what, and Bernie didn't argue with her about it, although Ruth told him he was crazy when she dropped in on him at the store on her last day in San Francisco.

“She doesn't have the strength. Can't you see that?”

He shouted back at her in his office. “Dammit, Mom, the doctor said it wouldn't hurt her.”

“It'll kill her!”

And then suddenly the rage he felt spent itself on his mother.

“No, it won't! The cancer is going to kill her! That's what's going to kill her, that goddamn rotten disease that's rotting her whole body …that's what's going to kill her and it doesn't make a damn bit of difference if she sits home and waits or goes to school or has chemotherapy or doesn't or goes to Lourdes, it's still going to kill her.” The tears rushed into his throat like a bursting dam and he turned away from his mother and paced the room. He stood with his back to her finally, looking blindly out the window. “I'm sorry.” It was the voice of a broken man, and it tore his mother's heart out to hear him. She walked slowly to where he stood and put her hands on his shoulders.

“I'm sorry …I'm so sorry, sweetheart…this shouldn't happen to anyone, and not to people you love, especially….”

“It shouldn't even happen to people you hate.” There was no one he would have visited this on. No one. He turned slowly to face her. “I keep thinking of what's going to happen to Jane and the baby…. What are we going to do without her?” The tears filled his eyes again. He felt as though he had been crying for months and he had. It was six months since they'd found out, six months as they slid into the abyss, praying for something to stop them.

“Do you want me to stay out here for a while? I can. Your father would understand perfectly. In fact, he suggested it to me last night when I called him. Or I can take the children home with me, but I don't think that would be fair to them or Liz.” She had grown to be such a decent, sensible woman, it amazed him. Gone was the woman who had given him bulletins on Mrs. Finklestein's gallstones all his life, the woman who had threatened to have a heart attack every time he dated a girl who wasn't Jewish. He smiled, thinking back to the night at Cote Basque when he had told her he was marrying a Catholic named Elizabeth O'Reilly.

“Remember that, Mom?” They both smiled. It had been two and a half years before, and it felt like a lifetime.

“I do. I keep hoping you'll forget it.” But the memory only made him smile now. “What about my staying out here to give you kids a hand?” He was thirty-seven years old and he didn't feel like a kid. He felt a hundred.

“I appreciate the offer, Mom, but I think it's important to Liz to maintain things as normally as she can. We're going to move to the beach as soon as school lets out, and I'll commute. In fact, I'm taking six weeks off till the middle of July, and I'll take more if I have to. Paul Berman has been very understanding.”

“All right.” She nodded sensibly. “But if you want me, I'll be on the next plane. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma'am.” He saluted, and then gave her a hug. “Now go do some shopping. And if you have time, maybe you could pick something nice out for Liz. She's down to preteen sizes now.” There was nothing left of her. She weighed eighty-five pounds, from a hundred and twenty. “But she'd love something new. She doesn't have the energy to shop for herself now.” Or for Jane, but he brought home boxes and boxes of clothes for the children. The manager of the department had a major crush on Jane and hadn't stopped sending Alexander presents since before he was born. And right now Bernie appreciated the attention they were getting. He was so distracted himself that he felt as though he weren't doing either of them justice. He felt as though he had barely looked at the baby since he was six months old, and he snapped at Jane constantly, only because she was there, and he loved her, and they both felt so helpless. It was a hard time for everyone, and Bernie was sorry they hadn't gone to a shrink, as Tracy had suggested. Liz had rejected the idea out of hand, and now he was sorry.

The worst moment of all came the next day when Ruth left for the airport. She stopped at the house first, in the morning before Liz left for school. Tracy picked Jane up every day now, and Bernie had already left for work. But Liz was waiting for the sitter so she could leave for school, and Alexander was down for his morning nap. Liz went to the door, and for a moment the two women stood in the doorway knowing why she had come. There was no pretense as their eyes met, and then Liz reached out and hugged her.

“Thank you for coming. …”

“I wanted to say goodbye to you. I'll be praying for you, Liz.”

“Thank you.” She couldn't say more as the tears filled her eyes and she looked at Ruth. “Take care of them for me, Grandma …” It was only a whisper …“And take care of Bernie.”

“I promise. Take care of yourself. Do everything they tell you.” She squeezed the frail shoulders and noticed suddenly that Liz was wearing the dress she had bought her the day before. “We love you, Liz …very, very much….”

“I love you too.” She held her for one more minute and then turned to leave, with a last wave, as Liz stood in the doorway, watching the cab pull away. Ruth waved for as long as she could see her.

Chapter 21

Liz managed to hang onto her classes until the end of school. Bernie and the doctor were amazed that she could do it. She had to take the Demerol every afternoon now and Jane complained that she slept all the time, but she didn't know how to voice the complaints that she really felt. The real complaint was that her mother was dying.

The last day of school was June ninth, and Liz went in one of the new dresses Ruth had bought her before she left. She talked to them all the time on the phone, and Ruth told her funny stories about the people in Scarsdale.

Liz drove Jane to school herself on the last day, and Jane looked at her happily. Her mother looked wide-eyed and alert and beautiful, just like she had before, only thinner, and they were moving to Stinson Beach the next day. She could hardly wait. And she scampered off to her own classroom in a pink dress and black patent-leather shoes that Grandma Ruth had helped her pick out for the occasion. There was going to be a party with cakes and cookies and milk before dismissal.

And when Liz walked into her classroom, she closed the door quietly and turned to look at her students. They were all there, twenty-one little clean shining faces, bright eyes and expectant smiles, and she knew for certain that they loved her. And she knew just as certainly that she loved them. And she had to say goodbye to them now. She couldn't just leave them, disappear without explaining. She turned and drew a big heart on the blackboard with pink chalk and they giggled.

“Happy Valentine's Day, everybody!” She looked happy today, and she was. She had completed something that meant a great deal to her. It was her gift to them, and herself, and to Jane.

“It's not Valentine's Day!” Bill Hitchcock announced. “It's Christmas!” Ever the wise guy and she laughed.

“Nope. Today is my Valentine's Day to you. This is my chance to tell you how much I love you.” She felt a lump rise in her throat and she knew she couldn't let it. “I want everyone to be very quiet for a little while. I have a Valentine for everyone …and then we're going to have a party of our own …before the other party!” They began to look intrigued and sat as still as they could, considering it was the last day. She called them up, one by one, and handed them each a Valentine she had made, which told them what she loved best about them, their skills, and their best features, and their achievements. She reminded each one of how well they had done, even if it was only at sweeping the playground. She reminded each one of the fun they had had, and each Valentine was covered with cutouts and pictures and funny sayings that were important to each child, and they sat back, a little awed, holding their Valentines like rare gifts, which they were. It had taken her months and the last of her strength to make them.