Page 54 of Snowflakes Over Starr's Fall
“Spending it with my mom, I guess.” They hadn’t talked about the actual day yet, even though it was only a week away, but Jenna knew Zach was going to be with Maggie and Ben.
“And Jack?”
“We haven’t talked about that, either,” Jenna admitted. Something else she’d been too chicken to mention to him. “He’ll probably spend it with his mom. It’s a bit early in our relationship to spend a major holiday together, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t think,” Laurie retorted. “Why not spend it all together, you and both your mothers? That makes perfect sense to me.”
And so it would, Jenna thought wryly, because Laurie had this Pollyanna-ish notion that everything always worked out for the best, even though a lot in her life should have surely showed her otherwise. She admired her friend’s optimism, even if she struggled to share it. “You should suggest it,” Laurie insisted.
“I’ll think about it,” Jenna replied, and once more Laurie rolled her eyes.
“Life is for living,” she told her as she looped the bag of groceries onto her arm. “Not thinking about it.”
The door jingled merrily as her friend left, and Jenna glanced around the store, feeling both satisfied and just the teeniest bit restless. Maybe she should do more than think about it. She could call Jack right now, suggest spending Christmas together…
Just as she was having that thought, her phone buzzed.Was it him?Feeling as if her heart were turning over in her chest, Jenna picked up her phone only to look down, her heart now seeming to go completely still when she saw the two-word text from Annie.
She’s gone.
Immediately Jenna swiped to call her friend. “Annie…” she greeted her, only to hear a broken sob. Jenna blinked back sudden tears. This wasn’t unexpected, yet it still felt like it was. “Oh, Annie, I’m so sorry.”
“She hung on for so long,” Annie choked out. “I thought she’d make it till Christmas. I wanted to spend the day with her, our last one…”
“She really did hang on,” Jenna whispered, swiping at her eyes. “But I think she was ready to go, Annie. She seemed it, the last time I saw her…”
“I know she did.” Annie sniffed. “She told me so herself, even though she couldn’t use words. She pointed at her wedding ring, and I knew what she meant. She wanted to be with my dad.”
A tear slipped down Jenna’s cheek at the thought. She could picture Barb perfectly, gazing down at her ring, ready to meet her husband once more, somewhere in the great beyond.
“She took a turn for the worse on the weekend, and then even worse yesterday,” Annie continued haltingly. “She stopped eating or drinking, and I think I knew it was the end, but I didn’t want to believe it. She’d scared us before, you know? But I always knew it would have to happen. I mean… we’ve been waiting for it for so long. I thought I would beready.”
“I don’t think anyone is ever ready,” Jenna replied quietly. Why, she wondered, was death always such a surprise? They’d been expecting Barb’s for months and yet now the reality of it had the power to make her breathless with shock, everything in her resisting the notion, the brutally painful reality of it, just as Annie surely was.
“Were you with her?” she asked quietly, and Annie sniffed again.
“Yes, I held her hand all the way to the end.”
“Oh, Annie.”
They were quiet for several moments, the only sound their breathing, and then Annie said softly, “It puts the rest of life into perspective, doesn’t it? I mean… why was I ever bored, or irritated, or restless? If I could have just one more rainy afternoon sitting with my mom with a cup of lukewarm coffee, chatting about nothing…” Her voice broke and she drew a quick, ragged breath as Jenna squeezed her eyes shut, aching for her friend. “Oranythingtrivial or seemingly meaningless,” Annie continued. “I frittered away so many moments without realizing I was doing it.”
“Oh, Annie, we all do,” Jenna protested gently. How much time hadshewasted, being worried or weary or fearful or cynical oranythingbut incredulously joyous that life was such an amazing gift? “You and Barb had a great time together,” she told her. “I don’t think you frittered away anything.”
“It feels like I did,” Annie replied, weeping now, openly on the phone. “So much of life just feels like a slog, something to be got through… but every moment is precious.” Her voice suddenly turned fierce. “Everymoment. Don’t waste a single one, Jenna.”
The words felt both personal and prescient, and in line with what everyone else and the universe itself had been telling her lately. She thought of Jack, feeling like he’d missed out on twenty years of his mother’s life. And she’d missed out on she didn’t even know how much, by living so defensively, every decision to protect her heart with the hardened shell of cynicism, believing it was better not to expect anything than to be disappointed. She didn’t want to live that way anymore. She wanted to make an active choice not to.
“I’ll try not to,” she told Annie shakily. “And you, too.”
“I’m trying.” Annie drew a ragged breath. “Iwilltry. Mike is coming over later.” She let out a shaky laugh. “I know it’s kind of ridiculous, but I do love that man.”
Jenna smiled. “It’s not ridiculous at all.”
“Come on,” Annie scoffed. “You know it is. The two of us so giant and wild-haired… We probably scare children away when we’re together. We’re like something out of a fairy tale.”
“You look wonderful together,” Jenna stated firmly. “I can’t wait for the wedding.”
Annie guffawed. “Well, we’ll see. I think Laurie and Joshua might be heading down the aisle before we do.”
