Poor little friendly ghost,
Wondering why her whole house feels haunted.
- Ani DiFranco, "Swim"
Spring/Summer 1993
4/16/93
Dear Juliet,
Hey, what's up? I thought I'd write you a letter because maybe we should get to know each other better, & Rachel gave us your #, but I tried to call & it said that # wasn't in service so we must have written it down wrong. So hopefully you'll write back and you can tell us the right # too. Oh also, my mom said maybe soon we can start getting Prodigy or CompuServe or something. Doc you guys have one of those? B/c we could send each other messages on the computer if you do.
I heard you & Jack got engaged on Christmas, congrats! That's so cool. When is the wedding?
So this spring I've been really busy 'cuz my friend from Robotics & I won 1st place in the school's fair, which means we're going on to the county one. The Sat. before the school one, we stayed up ALL NIGHT. Our project is this machine that trains dogs to act out a series of physical commands, including pressing a button if they want to get a biscuit, but they can only get one every so often (or else they'd get fat). It's supposed to be a way of keeping their minds active but mainly it was fun to build the machine and test it out. Vincent was our first test subject but he learned too fast (he's like the smartest dog ever, I swear) & I had to borrow our neighbors' dogs too. We're soooo excited & I REALLY hope we can place in county.
Anyway... everything is fine here. Mom is still... Mom. Bernard started jogging a couple months ago. My mom is worried he's gonna have a heart attack or something. She keeps saying, "Remember, you're a dentist, you are not Jesse Owens."
Oh, also I'm going to the jr. prom, but that's not til May. My mom is going to take me dress shopping up in LA so that should be cool as long as she doesn't get all sentimental or anything. I'm just going w/a friend but still it's exciting to get all dressed up & everything. And actually she said maybe we'll get a dress for my Sweet 16 too. Did you have a Sweet 16? What was it like? What about Rachel's?
So speaking of Rachel... I guess you prob. know I wasn't a match. I'm really sorry because I def. would of donated if I could. It really sucks. I'm so sorry. Why didn't you guys mention when we met you that she'd had cancer before? I feel really bad. I hope she's gonna be OK. She didn't want to talk too much about it but my mom said probably R. will have to have chemo again. It's OK if you want to tell me more, I won't be upset. I think R. was scared of upsetting us.
So anyway, write back when you have time. I hope med school isn't too hard. Say hi to David and Jack for me.
Love,
Tahlia
Juliet tucks the letter back into its envelope. Of course Tahlia had tried to call during the 10 or so days that their phone had been turned off.
It was the winter's fault, really - their first winter here, Juliet's first real winter, period, since she was a kid. For starters, their apartment was old and drafty with too-high ceilings and single-pane windows, and being on the first floor, they were also probably pouring 75 percent of their heat directly into the units upstairs. She and Jack had vastly underestimated how steep the heating bills would be.
Even so, they'd been scraping by all right until one day in early February when Juliet, on her way to bring David to daycare, stepped right onto an icy patch on the top step of their porch, and the next thing she knew, she was tumbling down the stairs, her left shoulder - and then the rest of her - smacking into the freezing-cold sidewalk.
She'd lain there, gasping for breath and crying out in pain, cold tears leaking from her eyes, and yelling at David to stay on the porch. He didn't listen, of course, but he didn't slip, and soon his anxious little face was hovering over hers. It felt like she had broken glass under her skin, her left arm bent at an odd angle, and as she slowly sat up, mentally replaying what had just happened, she realized she'd heard some kind of sickening pop.
You dislocated my shoulder! she wanted to scream at the icy steps, or more accurately at the universe, and what was she supposed to do now? Somehow she got them both back into the house, cradling her left elbow with her good arm, and located the phone number of the nice older couple upstairs, probably around her dad's age, and within 10 minutes, a wary David was under the care of Edith Dawson. And Juliet was in the back of a cab en route to the hospital, trying not to pass out, and switching her engagement ring to her right hand, because the fingers on her left were already swelling up.
If Jack had been home, she probably would have asked him to pop it back in for her, and hey! It would have been totally free. Financial ruin averted.
But as she tried desperately to keep her eyes from crossing after an ER nurse gave her a shot of Demerol, she considered that maybe that wouldn't have been the best option. And by the time she was leaving, her arm in a sling and a prescription for five tablets of Percoset in her purse, all she could think was how glad she was she hadn't tried to tough this one out.
Juliet got back to the ER lobby just as Jack was came off the elevator. She'd called his floor once she'd settled into her lengthy ER wait, telling the nurse there not to scare him, "Our son's fine, it's just that I - it's just that I - " she'd started stammering at that point, and clearly the pain was getting to her more than she'd thought - "I fell," she finished lamely. God, she felt like she was going to pass out. The nurse told her - she could hear her vaguely, through the haze - that she would pass on the message.
Despite the DO NOT PANIC warning, Jack still looked like he'd been panicking. "I'm so sorry, I was in a surgery and - " he told her then, rushing up to her. It was clear he was trying to figure out whether he could hug her without hurting her. "I got here as soon as I could." She managed a one-armed embrace, Jack smoothing down the back of her hair. "Are you OK, are you in pain?"
"I'm all right," she told him. "It hurt like crazy, but they gave me a shot and I just wanna go home and sleep forever."
Jack sighed, searching her eyes. "Are you going to be all right to get home? I'll have them call you a cab. I have to go back to work."
"I know," she told him, because she did.
Her shoulder felt a bit better every day, even though of course it had to be the one with the weird problems to begin with. And even though the Percoset gave her unbelievably scary dreams about being in some kind of deep, dark hole and coughing up blood, well, it kept the real pain away.
But then the ER bill arrived, which presented actual waking-life problems: eight hundred and fucking fifteen dollars. Juliet had stared at the invoice, her pulse racing, trying to figure out exactly what they were supposed to do, tears pricking into her eyes. She'd lost her dad's health insurance upon finishing undergrad, and she was tempted to simply not pay this damn thing at all. But Jack worked at that hospital. And it was the university medical center, which meant they could probably track her down and place a hold on her next semester's registration. Just their luck to end up screwed by a medical bill, of all things.
In the end, she called the billing office, convinced them to accept half a payment for the time being - she made the check out for $408, throwing in the extra fifty cents for karma's sake.
Karma wasn't paying attention though, after throwing them into the downward spiral of rent being six days late, and then two missed phone bills in a row, which meant... well, they found out what it meant.
Juliet had called Rachel collect from their second-floor neighbors' phone, telling her to call their number in an emergency. That was pretty much that, until their phone line was finally put back into service. Until their phone rang that same night, with Margo on the line. "So what was all that about?"
"What... I don't know what you mean. Margo, I'm sorry, David's asleep already or I'd put him on the line. Jack's working, but I can have h-"
"Oh, cut the crap, honey," Margo said affably. "Your phone was shut off, wasn't it? Good god, I know it's one thing for you kids to not want us to pay for a wedding, but there's no reason you have to live like this."
Pay for...? Juliet's mouth opened wordlessly. They had offered to pay for their wedding? Jack hadn't said a word about that. They had nothing saved so far, and every month she thought they'd start to get ahead, but they didn't, and of course the huge irony was that if they had simply gotten married at the fucking courthouse, she would have been covered under Jack's health insurance and they wouldn't have come close to having such a steep ER bill. She'd been feeling increasingly panicky in recent weeks, especially ever since Niall had called and told her Tahlia wasn't a match. Rachel, in true Avoidant Sister fashion, hadn't said a word about anything, except that she keeps pushing Juliet to get married this summer, which... Juliet can barely even stand to think about that means in Rachel's mind.
Anyway, Margo took Juliet's silence as a reason to keep talking. "Whether Jack's told you or not - " (Told me you offered to PAY FOR OUR WEDDING?, Juliet wants to ask/yell) - "Christian's been..." (here, Margo fumbles for words) "...been fine for almost 10 months now, and all this sidestepping and refusing visits and such is just starting to look petty."
"I'm not - I'm not - we're not trying to be petty." Juliet was thinking about all the things Margo didn't know about David these days. That he was fascinated by spiders, terrified of thunderstorms. That 'watermelon' was still impossible for him to say, and he called it 'wamma mama.' That the bunnies were his favorite animal at the petting zoo at the Ann Arbor fall festival, band he was afraid of the goats until he watched them for awhile, and then had tried to headbutt Jack's legs. Silly things, unimportant things. Things she would have given anything for her own mother to know.
"I'm sure you're not, Juliet." Margo heaved an enormous sigh. "If something like this happens again, you have to let me know. I can't imagine it's easy for you two out there. Do you need money right now? Because I can send you - "
"No, no, we're fine, thank you. It's just because... it's just b-b-because I fell." There, that sick feeling washing over her again. From thinking about her mom, maybe, or else the memory of that shoulder dislocation must have hurt more than she'd remembered. She gripped the edge of the kitchen doorframe, explaining into the phone about the ice on the porch stairs, and the ER, and the bill being more than they could deal with, but it was a one-time thing, and they're fine, really...
"If you say so," Margo answered lightly.
Now Juliet slips the envelope from Tahlia into the top drawer of her desk. Her sister (right?) sounds so innocent, and happy, and well-raised, secure in the knowledge that whatever had happened in the past, she had a family, a good one, now, and nothing about that was due to change anytime soon. Juliet and her mother had essentially switched roles when she was 15, and she's not sure what she missed by that, exactly, but... something. She definitely missed something. And Rachel was, at least since the age of ten - which was what, 1977? - sort of fucked-up and feral and avoidant.
Tahlia has it lucky. Of course she's not a match. Of course she's not.
Juliet shuffles through the rest of the mail. Heating bill, electric bill, Good Housekeeping (what a fucking joke - literally; Rachel had signed her up for it to be funny), hospital bill (they're supposed to be paying 50 bucks a month until the rest of it is paid off), junk mail, an envelope with her name typed on it.
Flipping it over, she finds no return address, so she opens it, and a check flutters to the floor. She picks it up, unfolding the note that was in the envelope.
Jack doesn't need to know. Take care of what you need to. - Margo
The check is for $500, made out to cash. Juliet stares and stares at that check. She deals with their finances, since Jack has little time to do anything other than work. He didn't have to know managing their finances would get a little easier for the time being, right? Hey, he hadn't even told her his parents had offered to pay for their wedding. And he hadn't told her his father was sober, much less how long it had been.
She chews on the inside of her lip. They were allowed to keep secrets from each other, right? Jack obviously had. And Juliet already has a big one, far bigger than this. This seems kind of mild in comparison.
Juliet tucks the check into the inside pocket of her purse.
Jack's home for dinner that night, and probably for the first time in a week, they make dinner together, chopping up tomatoes for sauce, David trying to tell Jack about a dog they saw at the park this afternoon. With the sauce on the stove and water boiling for pasta, Jack looks over Juliet's lab report for school, pointing out something she'd missed.
"Well, I had a whining toddler on my lap while I was typing it," she snaps. Sure, he has to work all the time (ALL THE TIME), but she's in med school, and she has her part-time job for woooo! soooo important, wowwww! The LaFleur Project! And she takes care of David, manages their money as best she can, cooks, cleans, she's a fucking Wonder Woman. Then almost recoils, because how is any of this insanity more his fault than hers?
Jack looks taken aback. "Juliet, I was just trying to help."
"I know," she relents. Stupid secrets hanging in the air between them. "I'm just... a little overworked right now. I'm sorry." And instantly she feels guilty, because Jack hasn't slept in probably 24 hours. At least she gets to sleep. When she's not having strange dreams that wake her up, anyway. Maybe this house is haunted. Nothing like this used to happen before they moved here.
"Why don't you go relax for a little while? I can finish with dinner."
"It's OK, really. I'm fine." Jack looks like he's going to argue, and she holds up a hand to stop him. "I want to see you."
He breaks into a smile at that, reaching out for her hips, pulling her closer to him. "I want to see you too."
"Hmm," she sighs against him. She feels better just having him hold her, looping her arms around his neck as he leans down to kiss her. He's warm and solid and real. God, she really does miss him when he's not around. Maybe they should just forget this whole doctor thing and run off to Flagstaff with David and be goat farmers or something on a hippie commune.
Everything will be OK, she tells herself, wondering if it's a lie. But his lips are on hers and she closes her eyes and everything really does feel pretty damn OK.
He's on top of her, her legs still around his hips as they catch their breath, his big hands on each side of her head, and the way he's resting on his elbows lets her see the shiny burn scar on his forearm until he lowers his head, meets her lips. She digs her fingers into the hair at the back of his head, telling herself, This is real, remember this, before he finally crashes down in the sheets next to her and she presses her face into her shoulder.
This is the part she doesn't like, the part after, where they have to cuddle and talk. She'd rather get up and find something to eat than lie here in these pale blue sheets completely vulnerable. But they actually don't speak for a few minutes, not until he nips at her shoulder. "What are you thinking about?" he asks.
She rolls onto her side to face him, pulling up the sheet to cover herself. Not like he hasn't seen everything already. "Nothing much, just that I have some scans to take today."
He nods, his green eyes locking onto hers. "I heard Karen lost her baby." His voice is casual.
"I can't really talk about that. Doctor-patient confidentiality." Her face is almost paralyzed, it's so composed.
"Probably for the best. What happened with Karen, I mean."
"I really can't..."
"I just wanted to say-"
"Goodwin," she cuts him off sharply. "I said I don't want to talk about this." Her mouth is full of unspoken secrets and! and! and! she just wants to Help People, capital letters. But, conversely, there's also some kind of almost murderous rage bubbling up in her lately, the kind of thing she's having to struggle to tamp down, and it's been getting harder and harder.
She has sparring practice later today and it can't come soon enough; she knows she needs it.
Another thing she knows: She will do whatever it takes to keep people safe. Whatever it takes. And she will lie and she will sneak around if she has to and she will FUCKING DO WHATEVER IT TAKES.
She rolls away from him again, her eyes dropping closed.
"You did the right thing," Goodwin says in a small, fading voice. "Take care of what you need to. He's not going to find out..."
Juliet opens her eyes again, except now she's in bed in Michigan, in her real life, and it's Jack breathing quietly next to her in the dark, not some old guy in a sun-drenched room, and that was a really, really weird dream, and who the hell was that?
(Secrets start to taste bad after awhile.)
This is what she'd wanted so badly. She did the right thing. Only now he's going to find out.
Jack had been working the day she took David to the lab. She held him while he screamed, smiled encouragingly when they let him choose a toddler-safe lollipop - he'd chosen green - and read him a storybook in the lobby while his tears dried. The tech was supposed to fax the results, whatever they were, to one Dr. Ronald T. Nichols. When she finally packed David back into the car, she kissed him on the top of his head, wondering if she was the Worst Mother in the World.
As she'd started the car, she met his eyes in the rearview. The same blue as hers, which usually fills her with happiness. Only David's lower lip had trembled once more. "It's all done with, baby," she'd tried to reassure him. "It's all done with."
Only it's not.
She hangs up the phone, wishing she could feel happier about this. She's supposed to feel happier about this. She wants to call Rachel, right fucking now. So they can scream and cheer and cry and laugh.
Only she should have just told him. It's just, she hadn't wanted him to think she was the kind of person who would do anything, anything to make sure her sister was safe. And no, he hadn't been there that summer Rachel was so sick, that summer Juliet was first pregnant. Juliet had wanted David for David, or at least, she'd wanted him so she wouldn't end up alone. And OK, so that's actually a pretty terrible reason to have a baby. But not as terrible as having a baby so there'd be another potential donor in the world.
But how was Jack supposed to believe that? What if he hadn't? Better to test David, and when the results came up negative, as they were almost definitely going to, she could pretend the whole thing had never happened.
And she would have been disappointed, possibly devastated. But also relieved, in a sick Worst Sister in the World way.
Outside, Jack is sitting on their paint-peeling back steps reading a medical journal; David's trampling the patchy grass with the aid of the red-and-yellow plastic Little Tikes car Margo and Christian must have spent a fortune to ship. The patches of mud are already covered in tire tracks. The day is cool and gray and humid, the kind of weather that makes her feel like they're suspended inside a raindrop.
They both look up when she hesitates in the doorway, David calling out to her. Jack is watching her face, though.
She clears her throat. "I have to tell you something. It's really, really important."
This is where I ask you to please, please leave a review. The previous chapter was a huge challenge to write, and I admit it was a pretty big letdown that I only heard from three people. I am not trying to complain, and I will finish this story, but I need to know that people are still engaged in reading it to stay happy, so please, let me know!
