Part 6
By Karen Dunbar ([email protected])
Jen watched Grams' retreating back in some amazement as she walked down the garden path. "Did that just happen?" Unbelieving, she turned to Jack for confirmation of what she had just heard. "Did I honestly just hear my grandmother condoning, in fact positively encouraging and actively collaborating in, my taking the day off school?" That Grams had allowed them to sleep in late for school was incredible enough, but Jen was having real difficulty getting her head around the idea that her austere and virtuous grandmother had actually lied, to Principal Green of all people, on her behalf.
"That's pretty much what it sounded like to me," Jack smiled wryly, not quite as surprised by Grams' behaviour as Jen.
And not a single question about last night, Jen thought to herself, not sure whether to be relieved or upset by Grams' apparent lack of interest. She had been dreading the interrogation she had been sure would come, and had been particularly nervous about keeping her scarred hand from Grams' view. But throughout the course of breakfast Grams had kept what little conversation there was to talk of the upcoming church coffee morning, and if she had noticed Jen's attempts to hide her hand she had made no comment about it. Confused, and a little hurt, Jen watched as Grams disappeared form view, gone to help with the coffee morning arrangements. She was relieved to be spared Grams' probing questions and poorly concealed disapproval, but was she really so low on her grandmother's list of priorities? Am I such a disappointment that coffee's more important to you, Grams? But then, Grams had lied for her. Jen frowned. "Why did she make the supreme sacrifice of putting my high school attendance record over her good, upstanding Christian morals, only to forget about me and saunter off to see all her bible buddies? Why bother about me in the first place if all she has time for is that highlight of the calendar year, the Capeside Christian Fellowship coffee morning!"
Jack looked at her intensely, "I thought you didn't want to talk to her."
"The prospect hasn't exactly been filling me with anticipation, no, but a 'How are you this morning?' would have been nice."
"And you think because she decided not to poke her nose in where she knew it was likely to be bitten off means Grams doesn't care about you? You think she's gone to this meeting without a care in the world because the church is more important to her than you?" Jen bit her lip as she heard her own thoughts from Jack's mouth, but didn't answer. Jack shook his head, "Well, she's your grandmother, I guess- you probably know her better than me. But don't you think it might just be possible that she knows you well enough to know when to give you some space?"
"Maybe, Jack, but she didn't even ask how I was, or what happened last night."
"Because she knows that at best you'd just shrug off her questions and pretend there was nothing wrong. And she doesn't really need to ask how you are, anyway, Jen- she knows." His gaze caught hers as he said quietly, "She just doesn't know why."
Jen clenched her jaw at that none too subtle reminder. She knew she was going to have to talk things through with Jack, but if she could just put it off for a little while longer
"Jen? You do realise how much she loves you, don't you? She knows you're hurting right now, and the fact that she's left us to ourselves does not mean she doesn't care. It means that she knows when parental concern is more impediment than solace, and that she loves and trusts you enough not to try and force you to confide in someone when you're not ready or able to. She didn't mean to hurt you. She's just trying to give us time."
Jen knew he was right. She'd never really doubted that Grams cared, it was just It was just that you're looking for any excuse to put off the talk, aren't you, Jen? she thought to herself, dread roiling through her mind. She nodded, to herself as much as to Jack, "I know. She's just giving us time." She swallowed, and continued softly, looking Jack in the face, "Time to talk."
For a long time Jen just stared at him, and he could tell her mind was working furiously behind the rigid mask of her features, but to no avail. Having uttered those fateful words she seemed to be at a loss as to how to carry on. Jack reached out to take her hand and pulled her down beside him on the couch, as she continued to falter over words that just didn't want to come. He understood. It was never easy, talking about such deep feelings, and starting was always the hardest part. So maybe he should be the one to jump that hurdle- he had things he needed to say, too.
"Jen, I'm sorry." He couldn't quite meet her eyes as he spoke, so he missed the incredulous look she gave him at those words. "I'm sorry for not being there for you."
"What?! Jack, that is so not true"
"Yes it is. I tried, you pushed me away, and I let it go, Jen. I knew you were hurting, and scared, and trying to hide from everything, and I let you hide." He looked into her wide eyes and sighed, "I just didn't want to push you. I honestly thought I was doing the right thing, letting you have your space, letting you come to me when you were ready." He glanced down at the scar standing livid on the back of her hand. "But I was wrong, wasn't I? You were going through Hell and I wasn't there. I didn't realise how bad it was, Jen, I swear. If I'd known how desperate you were I'd." he broke off, wondering just what he could have done. Would you have tied her to a chair and forced her to open up? Wouldn't forcing her only have pushed her further away? "I'd have tried harder. I should have tried harder. I'm sorry you've been going through this alone, Jen."
She shook her head, "Jack Last night It wasn't your fault, it was mine. You were there for me. I just couldn't let you in before."
Jack nodded in understanding, but still, he shouldn't have let things get so out of control, let Jen become so desperate. A chill ran up his spine as he thought of what that desperation had almost come to. "Jen, ." God, he was frightened to ask this question! But he had to know. "Jen,.. Last night If I hadn't come when I did" Maybe he could finish that sentence if he really forced himself, but he didn't even want to think the rest, let alone say it. But he didn't need to.
Jen laid her head back against the cushions, chewing on her lip as she thought about the unspoken question. Eventually she answered, her quiet voice tired and wondering, "I honestly don't know. I don't think I was really trying to kill myself. I wasn't really thinking at all, just feeling." She paused, as if unsure whether to go on, and Jack squeezed her hand encouragingly. Her eyes took on a faraway cast as she continued, the words coming slowly, reliving the previous night in her mind. "It just got too much. Suddenly. Just too intense, too incessant, too painful" Jack had to strain to catch her whispered words. "It was all I could see, or hear, or feel.. just the mind-numbing fear and pain, and I couldn't shake it off, even for a moment. It was always there, no matter what I was doing, this undercurrent of terror. I was so scared. Of being scared. So I tried to cut it all off, to cocoon my mind, my conscious thoughts, separate from what I was feeling, until those feelings went away." She gave a short, humourless laugh, "As if they would. They just got stronger and stronger, while I carried on pretending everything was fine, thinking I didn't have to deal with all that emotion, it was safely locked away. But it started seeping through the fa�ade, little spurts of panic flaring in my mind. And underneath was this constant sense of dread that I just couldn't keep out of my mind, dread of what Terry had told me, and dread of what I knew I was feeling, no matter how hard I tried to fight it off. I still remember what it was like after Abbey died. I remember the bleakness, the pointlessness, that feeling of utter desolation that just consumes you. It was so hard to get through that, Jack, to find some light, some reason. To find something to make me think, "Yes, it's worthwhile getting out of bed today. Yes, it's worthwhile stepping out of the way of that speeding truck, moving away from that roaring inferno." I remember those feelings so vividly- they were so strong and so overpowering, and I just felt like it was happening all over again. I was back there, in that place where there's no meaning, or happiness or even a moment's contentment, and I was just so scared of feeling that again." Again, a mirthless chuckle, bitter, "And that fear of those feelings actually bred and nurtured them. And all the time I was blocking it all off, my mind safe in its ivory tower. Until the tower started crumbling and I couldn't shore it up, no matter how hard I tried." She waved her scarred hand in illustration, "All of a sudden nothing I did could keep those emotions out of my mind, I just couldn't escape them. I could float above them, for a while, almost like I was in a trance, but then the fear started seeping up again, and suddenly I'd just had enough. I couldn't take it any more, I just wanted it all to go away. The creek just called to me. There was a way of making it all stop, and at that specific moment that was all I wanted in the world, so I didn't even think. I just walked in. And then you were there." She turned her tear-streaked face to his, trying so hard not to break, "I don't know if I would have kept walking. It was a moment, of desperation, of desolation, maybe of madness. But would it have passed if you hadn't appeared?" She shook her head slightly, " I .. I just don't know, Jack."
He studied her, looking so small and vulnerable beside him, through unshed tears. He had his answer, and a lot more besides. Appalled by what she had been through, but overwhelmingly glad that she had finally opened up to him, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a close embrace. "But I did appear. And I'm here now. And the moment is past." He emphasised that last statement, more hopeful than definite, and Jen caught that uncertainty in his voice.
"Yes. It's past. And the fear and hopelessness don't seem quite so hopeless today. Not so unbearable." She sighed against Jack's shoulder, "I don't think that moment will come again, Jack, not now."
Jack smiled weakly, "It damn well better not- I don't plan on freezing my ass off in the creek in the middle of the night for a third time! And I certainly don't plan on losing my best friend. Jen, I want a promise from you. Promise me that you won't shut me out again." He turned her face to his, searching her features for a commitment. "I'm not even going to ask you to promise not to hurt yourself again, I know it doesn't work like that, but please, promise me you'll talk to me when you feel that bad. Call me from work, pull me out of class, wake me in the middle of the night, whatever just come to me when it all gets too much. Even if you don't want to talk, you can't be on your own, feeling like that. Promise me."
"I promise." Jen's eyebrows were drawn together, lending her features an intensity that Jack had rarely seen- he had no doubt that she meant what she said. Her lips twitched in a wan smile, "I hope you realise what you've let yourself in for. But I promise- no more hiding. I'll let you have the full brunt of any and all traumas, neuroses and general emotional instabilities that may come my way from now on," she drew a deep breath, her face set, "starting, I guess, with the current health scare." Her fists were clenched, and she seemed to draw in on herself as she continued in a small voice, "I'm scared, Jack. I might be infected with a deadly and incurable disease, and I don't know what to do."
Jack cast his mind back to the printouts he'd got from the internet the previous day. Now seemed to be the time to put some of that advice into practice. He smoothed Jen's hair as he spoke, "First things first- you might be infected. You don't know. It's possible that Terry wasn't infected when he thinks, and even if he was, I know you wouldn't have been taking risks. You did use protection, didn't you?"
"Yes." He felt her head nodding against his chest. "Most of the time. But there were a couple of times We were drunk, we weren't prepared"
"OK, so there might have been a couple of times when you had unsafe sex. But the virus isn't always transmitted every time, so even if Terry was infected then there's no guarantee that he passed it on to you. And if it was only a couple of times I'd say there's a fair chance that you're OK." She looked up at him, hope starting to creep over her face. Jack grimaced, hating what he was about to say, "But we don't know that for sure. There's a good chance you're not infected, but it's not definite, Jen. There is still a real possibility that you might be HIV positive." He could feel her body tense at those words, and the expression of cautious hope froze on her face. "You should have the test."
Jen stared pale faced at the floor for several moments, while Jack ineffectually rubbed her back. "OK," she agreed, nodding determinedly, "I'll take the test." She turned a frightened gaze to Jack, and whispered, "What if it's positive, Jack? What do I do?"
"If it turns out positive, we will get you the best support and medical help available. You are not on your own with this, Jen, whatever the result. And there are support groups, helplines Nothing's going to make this magically better, but there are people who can help. There are people who've been through it themselves. I've got some addresses and phone numbers if you want them."
Another solemn nod. Jack let his body sag against the couch as Jen broke from his embrace, suddenly energised, surging to her feet. She stood there, scrubbing the tears from her face, her features hardening in stony resolve. "OK. No more tears, and no more passively lolling in anguish- that's not helping anyone. You're right. I have to find out whether or not I'm infected." She paused in thought, then, "These addresses you've got- are there any for testing centres near Capeside? I don't really think I want to go to the family doctor about this."
"If there isn't an address there'll at least be a number to call to find the nearest place."
"OK. We'll make an appointment. You will come with me, won't you?"
Jack felt the "what do you think?" look that he returned was more than answer enough to that question.
Jen smiled ruefully, "OK, stupid question. So, I'll get tested." She determinedly blinked back more tears, and added, "And then I'm going to see about getting my tear ducts surgically removed."
To be continued...