Images 41

Previously on Images…

“Neither did I until Jenna, They gave me the you’re going to die letter too, get your shit done…I was supposed to be dead a long time ago according to them.”

“Blessed ain’t?”

“Oh fucking get over yourself Ingrid. Other people have it hard; other people have had it harder than we’ll thankfully ever know.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’ve got a Somali waitress down stairs that’s a challenge to that attitude honey and despite the shit she’s been through she’s still a damned nice person. You…you’re not and it’s that poor fuckin me attitude that’s doing it.”

“I don’t care! It’s not fair!”

“Life never once came with a guarantee Ingrid. It doesn’t, it’s exactly what you make it.”

“Yeah so it’s my fault that my life’s been utter shit!?”

I get down kneeling and pick her up and set her ass on the toilet. I’m looking her in to face, eye to eye. “Yes, it’s that simple…life happens, things happen and it just on us, only us what we do with the time that we have…love, friendships, parenting it’s all our choices…to have other people treat us the way we want…need…we have to do the same…you, me, nobody wants to dump their life, love and time into a black hole…”

“But…”

“No, no more fucking buts…you’re out of them, dying, this is the last goddamned bit of time for you to get your head out of your cunt and stand up ad actually be the Ingrid you want to be.”

“I can’t I killed her with everything and…”

I cut her off tapping her on the forehead. “No, you’re still alive; she’s still alive you’re hurting way more all the time then from just the cancer right?”

She nods, tears flowing.

“That’s the real you screaming and beating herself bloody to get out.”

She just stares at me…crying…sniffling occasionally.

“Drink the juice first give it a few minutes then the tea…and there’s stuff here you can use…take a bath…and instead of getting clean outside try letting the bullshit soak off of you okay?”

(Sniffle.) “Y...yeah...”

I leave and I close the door and go and take a peek at Jenna lying in our bed Giselle in her arms and there’s this at peace, happy look with tears on her face and the little one holding tight.

I go and get my guitar and I just sit there and play softly strumming away in the big chair across from our bed. I kind of feel Jenna watching me and smiling. I’m just a guy that messes around with the guitar and sort of can sing but I try anyway.

And Now…..

Chapter 41

*Jenna………..

I wake up and I can feel myself being snuggled by this amazing tiny little body and she’s a little wriggly too. I yawn and I can feel her move up further on the bed and I can almost tell she’s awake and right in from of my face.

She’s so quiet except for her breathing, she’s doing that little kid breathing because they don’t know how to quiet that down and stuff.

It’s hard to not smile.

I don’t know what Ingrid’s been like but I’m…

I’m going to be a different Mommy.

I want to be a good Mom.

I want to be a Mom.

I’ve wanted it since I saw the kids that my therapist works with, I was feeling it with Mom and Hunter and It was something that got really stuck in my heart when Taylor talked about us adopting someday.

As bad as everything to this point has been it’s worth it.

I haven’t even known her for a full twenty four hours yet and I would do anything for my baby girl, walk through fire, lose a limb, I’d die for her already.

She was mine, from me no matter how it happened and as soon as I held her she was part of me heart and soul.

Thank you God….just thank you…

I open my eyes all of a sudden and Giselle was looking at me about four inches from my face and it’s just amazing to watch her eyes go so wide and she squeals. “Uuzz!”

I grab her and she squeaks and I hug her first then I start to tickle her and she bubbles out laughter that just seems to change the whole feel of everything.

I stop and smile at her. “Good morning pumpkin you sleep good?”

She does her bobble-head nod and she hugs me tightly.

Like she couldn’t wait to and like she needed it.

“You need to go to the bathroom?”

She shakes her head no and points to the chair where Taylor’s guitar is sitting. “Daddy take potty.”

“Okay, well I got to use the potty you want to come with me?”

She nods another of her bobble-head nods then she takes me by my finger. “C’mun go potty.”

I let her lead me there.

I see Ingrid curled into a bawl around one of the pillows on the couch looking pale but not green. I give her this little smile and a finger wave and she just stares at me…so like I’ve done something.

I’m sure that there’s going to be some of that but other than doing what I’m doing with our daughter I ignore her attempt to start something and I’m actually going to rely on her feeling too sick to keep the bullshit up.

In her case, her cancer is sort of on my side in this.

I get cleaned up and I comb and brush my hair and then hers and get ready for my day. I scoop Giselle up into my arms and I come out to the living room.

Ingrid looks up from where she’s at. “What.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m dying how do you think?”

“Uh-huh, that’s not going to help you. “

“What isn’t?”

“The attitude, give me your cell-phone please?”

“Why?”

“Because your folks are on it, your girlfriend is on it and everything else is likely on it.”

“No.”

I hold out my hand.

“No.”

“Iggy…”

“What?”

“You…owe…me…”

She’s trying to stare me down and I keep staring at her and she’s trying to work up a mad on but that takes more energy than she’s got. But Giselle is hiding from her glare by bury her face into my shoulder.

It goes on awhile longer before she sort of slumps. “It’s in my bag.”

“Better, just stay up here and rest, I’ll be in and out to check on you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes I do.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

I go over and I get her bag and I look through it and there’s her phone and her blackberry and there’s enough meds to kill the Chinese army. “When do you take you meds?”

“When I need to what’s the point.”

“Uh-huh…I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going with my bag?”

“Downstairs.”

“Why?”

“I have work to do and I’m not coming up here to check on you in case you decide to O.D. and check out on us.”

She doesn’t lift her head but she’s glaring at me and almost crying at the same time. “You’re a bitch.”

“Iggy, don’t uses that language in front of Giselle ever again.”

“She won’t remember it.”

“Yes she will, and that kind of stuff sticks and the way it came about does too.”

“Whatever.”

“No not whatever, we’re not fifteen anymore that doesn’t cut it in real life it’s time to grow up.”

“I’m dying that’s grown up enough.”

“That’s the last time you get to use that as a crutch…you came to me Iggy it’s my rules now. You’re going to fight this and even if this turns out it’s a losing battle I’m going to make sure that you’re not going to be the sorry shadow of the girl that was my best friend.”

Ingrid turns from the both of us and she starts to cry into the back of the couch and Giselle’s upset and whimpering into me.

I might want to comfort Ingrid but she’s had enough of that from someone…I’m not letting her drag me into her pity party. I take my daughter who’s crying in my arms downstairs and rock her humming. I put Ingrid’s bag into one of the cabinets in the laundry room and then carry Giselle down into the back kitchen.

“Hey…..you want some breakfast?”

She shakes her head hard no…oh she got that from her mother. She rubs at her eyes.

“You want to help me make cinnamon rolls?”

“Wuzza?” (Sniffle.)

“They’re really good treats, I make then and I sell them to people.”

She’s still rubbing at her eyes and sniffling but does her bobble headed nod.

“Okay, you can pass me things and stuff okay?”

(Sniffle.) “s’kay” she buried her face into my shoulder again and she…she’s rubbing her face and her nose on my top.

I guess that’s just going to come into the territory.

I get her one of the high chairs we’ve got for the kids that come into the restaurant and set it to where she’s level with reaching the work table and I start making my cinnamon rolls but I give her things to do. Like stirring the water that the yeast and the sugar is in with a whisk. Whisks look cool and shiny especially to a two year old. I talk to her and show her what I’m doing and even getting her to taste things and tell her what they are. Not big stuff but like the cinnamon or the butter and stuff.

Njinda comes in and watches me and she’s smiling.

“I rememba being that age Jenna, I don’t remember that much of bein that young but I remember the smells of my Granny’s kitchen everytime I smell food from home…you’re going to be a great Mum y;know…she’s gonna remember this stuff too.”

“I hope so, I really do because I want my little girl to have the stuff I never did, all the stuff I missed.”

“You’re doing a great job already pumpkin. God I’m so proud of you.” I look up and my father’s there smiling at me eye’s shining.

Proud of me…

“Thanks Daddy.” (Sniffle.)