Memories Left Behind (eBook)

Chapter 2

Unlike Chuck Elliot, when Terry Anne Hartley answered the phone the following evening she couldn’t have been more delighted it was Pete DeSantis. They’d taken classes together and shared a lunch table during their junior and senior years. She’d been his lab partner and carried him through the ordeal of chemistry. He in turn helped her out on Pep Club fundraisers. They had gone on a few dates, but after a month, mutually agreed it was better to keep their friendship than deal with the social pressures involved in being a couple. Terry was animated, fun-loving, good-natured, and a sympathetic listener who kept secrets better than the CIA. She was his anchor, and when he was with her he was himself.

“Terry Anne, this is Pete DeSantis. It’s been a long time… much too long!”

“Oh my God…it’s really you. What a pleasant surprise!”

“Glad to hear you say that,” Pete replied with a chuckle.

“Can I share something with you that just popped in my head?” Terry asked.

“Terry, you can share anything because I never would’ve survived high school without you. We both know that. Yeah, go ahead,” Pete said merrily.

“Remember at our 20th reunion when you asked me to dance? Believe it or not, my husband got incredibly jealous. He saw you give me a kiss when the dance music stopped.”

Pete laughed. “I remember that too. My wife never said a word about it. As usual, I think you’re giving me a dose of ‘feel good’ medicine. Frankly, I remember like it was yesterday. Made your Ralph a bit jealous, huh?”

Teasing, she replied, “You just want to hear me say it again. For sure, he was jealous.”

“Good thing you kept it a secret about our make-out sessions in your little red Honda Civic. Somewhere in my desk I’ve got a picture of us leaning on that car at Beacon Beach. You should see it, me towering over you. You were so cute and funny. I always wanted a little more and you always kept me in line. I couldn’t help it. You were seventeen and sizzling!”

She giggled. “You’re a big flirt! What is it about middle-aged men? You all have selective memories, and it’s always connected to the physical stuff. C’mon Pete, we didn’t do much! You did love to snuggle. You’d put your head on my lap at the beach, and I’d ruffle that adorable thick hair of yours and…and you purred. Okay, now we’d better get off the subject.”

“Terry, if I close my eyes I can still picture us together.”

“Remember when you asked me if I’d ever given myself away.” She inquired.

Pete winced at the thought of her mentioning such a thing.

“I really did that?” Pete replied incredulously, “You’d better refresh my memory.”

“It happened at the Lakeland Diner the night before I left for Penn State. I might have been embarrassed, but I looked you straight in the eye and shook my head side to side…not up and down. I should’ve asked you the same question, but I already knew the answer.”

There was a moment of silence. “Terry Anne, gimme a break. You knew how I felt about you. Saying good-bye was tough. It wasn’t only because of your terrific personality… it was because you had so many wonderful qualities I was sorely missing. The big ones: like character, common sense and academic self-discipline. You knew where you were going and I admired you so much. All I ever did in high school was major in daydreaming, about fast cars, good times and Rock concerts. Looking back, high school was a soul sucking experience for me. You saw right through me and that’s why I respected you. The truth is that I never felt what it was like to be cared about…that is until I found you. You gave me understanding and it meant so much to me.”

His admiration was deeply touching and she believed every word he’d said.

“Oh, Pete, thank you. But what about you, in spite of so many roadblocks in your childhood, you persevered and became a successful lawyer, devoted husband and father. You know, growing up in the eighties was…well, it was an overwhelming experience. Reagan shot, the space shuttle exploding, hyper-inflation, the Aids epidemic and the cold war… that was chaos personified. And, as sheltered as my parents tried to keep me…it didn’t work. My eyes and ears were open, although I towed the line because fear of failure reigned supreme for me.”

Pete thought, Terry, you towed the line because you’re head was on straight, while the rest of us drifted in and out of reality every weekend.

Light-hearted, he added, “Whenever I watched reruns of the X-Files, agent Scully reminded me of you. Come to think of it, you could’ve been her double. I had a thing for her.”

Terry had to stifle a laugh.

“Well, thank you very much. When I last saw you, you looked pretty sharp, though I must confess you overdid it a bit that night. Had to get your money’s worth with the open bar didn’t you? Good thing Catherine was the designated driver. Are you still with that firm in New York?”

I might as well make it simple, he thought.

“After twenty years I escaped the hubbub of the ‘Big Apple’ and became a simple county lawyer with Catherine’s blessing. She makes the bulk of our income in her real estate practice. Nowadays, I work part-time and do easy stuff like wills and bankruptcies. What about you Terry? Still working in the emergency room at Passaic General? As I recall, you mentioned a typical Saturday night there was like being a member of a MASH unit.”

Up until that moment, Terry had maintained her upbeat outlook. Now she fought to keep back the tears by faking an exaggerated cough. Even so, she wanted Pete to know the truth.

“Where’d that cough come from? Are you okay?”

Nervously, she confessed. “Pete, I took a leave of absence. I’ve been very sick.”

Pete was speechless and the silence that followed was deafening.

Awkwardly, he replied, “You don’t have to discuss this. Let’s save it for another time.”

She swallowed hard and considered his offer before responding.

“No way Pete, we’ve always been honest with each other. That’s why I liked you so much. Find your yearbook and read what I wrote. You were always there for me. You never teased me about the Pep Club, student council activities, or being a high achiever. We were best friends.”

“Terry, I’m so pleased you remember me that way. Please let me share this with you. About a year ago, I was literally burned out. Fortunately, longevity carries weight, even in the stark reality of corporate law. In the end, I stepped down gracefully rather than be put down. Enough about me, it’s so trite compared to dealing with a serious illness. How are you coping?”

She didn’t answer, not right away. So Pete waited. Finally, mustering all the courage within her, she managed to get the words out, “My…my dear friend, over the past two years I’ve been in an exhausting battle with breast cancer.” Another moment passed. Then in a low voice she confessed, “I fought it with the best treatments offered…so I got to keep my life, but in the end I lost part of me. It was smack-dab in the best years of my life with my job and my family.”

Hearing the tragic news he tried to say something encouraging.

“Terry, you won the battle. Isn’t that what really matters,” he suggested meekly.

This time she fought desperately to keep her emotions under control.

“Pete, I’m not Agent Scully anymore. Chronic anxiety and overwhelming fatigue plague me every day. Staring at death changed me. I’m sick of wearing a wig and putting on a happy face. Chemo and anti-depressants made my mind fuzzy and my critical thinking cloudy. Healing after surgery takes forever. I joined a support group and it has lightened the load a bit. You see, women my age live in a culture obsessed by appearance and physical perfection. Yeah, I miss working, but I lack the emotional stability needed to do the job.”

“How can you be so sure of that?” he interjected cautiously.

After a few seconds, she raised her voice with urgency.

“For heaven’s sake, please believe what I’m telling you.”

Taken by her impassioned plea for sympathy Pete begged forgiveness.

“I’m sorry for being such a simpleton. Please forgive me…I’m so sorry Terry.”

“Consider this. During my career I knew a few nurses who experienced a radical mastectomy. None of them came back to work. So I’m thinking if they couldn’t do it how could I? Believe me. Unless you’re a breast cancer survivor, it’s hard to comprehend the cumulative effects of invasive surgery. I don’t know what else to say. I’m just not ready for work and I’ve forgotten what that feels like to be content… much less happy. Now do you understand?”

“Yes, I get it. Unless you’ve personally waged a war against some form of cancer you can’t relate to the extent of the fight…that said, how’s Ralph dealing with this?”

“Ralph’s been by my side throughout the entire nightmare and the boys have been wonderful. It’s been hard to be socially disconnected, but that’s my fault. I’m not much for small talk about movies or the weather. He’s still running the State Farm Agency in Morristown. I’d probably drive him to drink if he was home all the time. One more thing you...