The Empty Jar(42)

Nowhere.

But I won’t give up on Nissa coming around. I can’t.

So with a trembling chin, I watch my friend. In silence, in patience, I watch her, and I wait.

Slowly, Nissa works through her ire. Twice she opens her mouth to speak, but ends up closing it both times, thinking better of it.

Once she sighs. Once she shakes her head. Once she presses her fingers to the bridge of her nose like her head is hurting. But ultimately, finally, after five or six minutes, she comes out on the other side of her emotions as the pal I’ve known for the better part of two decades.

Nissa buries her face in her hands and begins to weep. “Jesus Christ, Lena, I’m sorry.”

I wrap my arms around my very best friend, and I hold her close, stroking Nissa’s hair as she gives in to her distress. In my many years as a nurse, I’ve seen people react to bad news in all sorts of unpredictable ways, but they were, for the most part, strangers. I thought I knew Nissa better than to be surprised by her reaction, but news like this… No one can know how someone else will respond.

Also, I’ve never given her such horrific and wonderful news at the same time either. That might be too much for anybody to process without having a brief meltdown.

Nissa cries in earnest for a good five minutes. I hold her through it all, only gripping her tighter when her shoulders shake with deep sobs.

When finally Nissa pulls away, her face is puffy, her eyes are red, and her expression is one of overwhelming guilt and sadness.

“I’m so sorry. I just…I wasn’t expecting that. Just the thought of losing you—” Her features crumple, and she starts to cry again. She’s able to collect herself a little more quickly this time, though. “You know I’d do anything for you. I meant that. And for Nate. And for th-th-the baby.” She sniffs and snorts again as she thinks of caring for my motherless child. “I’ll support you in whatever you decide, but please don’t shut me out. You’re my best friend. Please let me spend this last time with you. Please. It’s all I’ll ever have.”

At that, she breaks down again. Patiently, I wait for my friend’s shock and grief to subside.

Eventually, it does. It dribbles off into an odd hiccupping-snuffling that I find curiously adorable. I love everything about my best friend, even her unexpected reactions and strange noises.

Grabbing a paper towel from the decorative wrought iron holder on the counter, Nissa blows her nose. I cringe, causing her to ask, “What, do I have a booger?”

I laugh outright. “No, you do not have a booger. I was just thinking how sore your nose will be tomorrow if you use a paper towel to blow it again.”

“I’ll switch to Kleenex eventually,” she sniffs. “You sure I don’t have a booger?” Nissa tips her head back for me to inspect.

“I’m sure you don’t have a booger.”

“It feels like I have a booger,” she explains, wiping at her nose again. “And if I do, I’d blame you. One thousand percent your fault!” she shouts loudly to the empty kitchen, pointing an accusing finger at me.

“I’ll take that. It’s less than I deserve, I’m sure.”

Nissa sighs audibly, one corner of her mouth curling up in a blend of humor and chagrin. “No. I deserve a kick in the boob for being such an *. Why did you let me act like that?”

Good-naturedly, I shrug. “Some kids react like that. Gotta let the tantrum run its course. See what a good mother I’m going to be?”

Nissa’s eyes mist over. “You’re going to be a phenomenal mother.”

“For a little while anyway. I hope. I guess that could be the upside of dying when your child is still young. You don’t get as many opportunities to screw up their life.”

After a weak attempt at another smile, Nissa only nods in agreement. I imagine that her throat is thick and shaky with emotion.

“Also, Nate and I are making videos. All kinds of videos of anything and everything. I’d love for you to be in some of them.”

“I’d adore that. And with me in its life, at least your baby will grow up with a good sense of style.”

“That’s definitely something you bring to the table. As long as, if it’s a girl, you never pack your things in her suitcase for a trip. I’d like for you and Nate to be able to keep her off the pole as long as possible.”

At that, Nissa laughs. “Are you saying I packed you stripper clothes?”

“I’m saying stripper clothes were modest compared to a few of the things you packed for me.”

“But did Nate like them?”

“Of course Nate liked them! He does have eyes and a penis.”

“Then what’re you complaining about?”

We grin at each other, slipping easily back into the familiar comfort of our friendship. The rocky moment has passed, and now we will move on. As Nate and I have discovered, there is no place for anger now, when time is so drastically limited. We are unwilling to give it one second of such valuable space. Nissa, too, will realize that soon enough, if she hasn’t already.





Fifteen I’ll be There for You Nate

For two months, things feel like a happier version of normal for Lena and me. It’s easy to get lost in plans for the baby or details of the pregnancy and forget that my wife is dying and that no one knows how soon her condition will start to deteriorate. We do know, however, that once it starts to decline, there is nothing we can do to stop it.