“Three parts, two questions. This according to Aldana.” Amos focused on her. “Then comes the hard part.”
Jenna did not respond.
“Deciding whether it’s worth the time, trouble, and future pain to accept the apology. And move on.”
She remained silent.
“What I’m trying to say is, if women didn’t have this forgiveness index in their genes, humanity would have gone extinct long ago.”
“Forgiveness index.”
“Aldana’s words.”
“I like it.”
“She is one smart woman. And forgiving.”
Jenna understood what Amos was not saying. The man was making his request, or invitation, whatever. Clear as day. Saying this was the path he thought she should take.
The queasy tightness to her middle left as abruptly as it had come. Leaving her slightly weightless. Able to release the hand on her gut, able to say what she was thinking. “When Noah was telling me about what happened to his business, his dream, he said he thought he’d have more time. It resonated. I’ve heard that from any number of my patients.”
Amos nodded. “I expect I’ll be feeling some of that myself, when my own final hour comes.”
“I almost never think about patients once they, you know.”
“Once they’ve punched their ticket. I expect that’s a healthy perspective.”
“Maybe so, but last night I saw them. One after the other. Speaking those words. How they thought there would be more time. Feeling their regret. Their sense of guilt.”
“I don’t like the sound of that word.Guilt.”
“Guilt,” Jenna repeated. “Not using the time well, not taking the chance, whatever. They’re reaching out of the dark and they’re warning me. Telling me not to make their mistake. Be sure and take the time. Don’t put off life. Or love. Live each day to the fullest. Count the minutes given to joy as a triumph.”
She found it necessary to stop then. Breathe around the ache. The sorrow. The fear.
When she looked up, she saw Amos watching her. His obsidian features softened and open. He asked, “Is that a yes?”
She nodded. “Tell Noah he’s welcome to call.”
CHAPTER29
Later that afternoon, Noah called.
She listened to his apology in silence. In truth, she did not take in the words. They formed a gentle wash, dousing her injured heart and spirit. When he was done, she thanked him solemnly. He asked if he could see her. She replied from some great distance, saying they should speak again the next morning. He responded with a silence that Jenna found suitable. He sighed an acceptance. And murmured a farewell.
Afterward she sat in her living room, examining her internal state. Trying to work out how she felt. Wondering what she wanted to happen next.
She went through what used to be her normal routine. Back when she returned home from another patient. Back before the boat and Noah entered her life. She drove into town. Walked the central avenue. Shopped for fresh veggies and fruit. Came home. Boiled eggs. Sliced avocado and garden tomato. Grilled a minute steak. Ate a warm salad. Pretended to be interested in a show. Fielded a few texts and emails. Went to bed. To her surprise, she slept well and did not dream.
The next morning Noah called again.
This time was slightly different, in that he had a specific request. Wanting her to drive out, take part in a first meeting with Wallace and the mystery buyer.
Jenna listened to him in silence. In truth, she had no issue with Noah’s request. Of course she would help him. This was not really what interested her, not at the level of bone and sinew. Her attention was fastened upon something else. Noah was the one who was uncertain now. Clearly worrying over whether Jenna would allow him back inside her heart and her world. Or if the new boundaries remained. Friends with very tight borders, keeping the other at arm’s length. Because she said so.
She reveled in not needing to decide. Taking time to breathe through the pain he had caused her. Allowing it to slowly begin to dissolve and fade.
She felt as though the moment held the same sort of necessary distance as other times when she returned home. Enduring the impossible, one patient at a time. Then healing and moving on.
