Page 29 of About that Fling
“Everything’s under control,” she kept telling Jenna and Gert, even as they watched her wasting away.
Reminders of her mom sloshed sour in her gut as Jenna sat on the edge of Gert’s bed. Squeezing her eyes shut, she let the emotions roll through her in waves. Losing her mother—watching Gert lose her sister—never stopped hitting her, pounding her, slamming a fist in her chest that left Jenna gasping for breath.
Everything’s under control.
But it hadn’t been. Not even close.
Gert touched her hand, drawing her back to the present. As Jenna opened her eyes, she saw her aunt watching her.
“Your mother gave such a beautiful toast at that party.”
Swallowing hard, Jenna nodded. “I remember. She talked about chasing dreams and following my passion.” Her mom must have known, even then, that she wouldn’t live to see Jenna’s future play out.
“You’ve done it, Jenna,” Gert said softly. “She’d be so proud of the job you do now.”
“Thanks.” Swallowing hard, she tried to remember more details of that sweet sixteen party. It was one of the last joyful times they all had together. “You wore a red dress with those stiletto heels I would have killed for. And you slipped me that secret sip of champagne?—”
She stopped as her throat closed up tightly. Forcing herself to keep breathing, she gulped emotions that threatened to cut off her air. Grief for her mother. Pride in Aunt Gert.
Gert sat there blinking, her eyes carbon copies of her sister’s. Jenna’s mom’s eyes, the same eyes Jenna saw in the mirror beside Gert’s bed as she steadied herself with a calming breath.
“I miss her,” she murmured, squeezing Gert’s hand.
“Me, too.”
Jenna pulled in a deep, shaky breath. “And I know ginger ale would be better for your stomach, but there’s one of those mini-bottles of champagne in the back of the fridge. We could save it for later, or?—”
“No,” Gert said with a weak smile. “Let’s share it now.” She paused, fingers frail and bony in Jenna’s hand. “Celebrating the good things feels like what your mother would have wanted.”
“Good things. Yes.” Good things like Mia’s wedding. Like the baby on the way.
Like her aunt’s secret bestseller. “I’ll get the champagne.”
She started to stand, but instead she leaned forward to wrap her aunt in a hug. “I love you, Gert.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart.” Gert hesitated. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
In the back of her mind, Jenna heard the echo of her mother’s words.
Everything’s under control.
“Yes,” Jenna murmured, and stood to go get the champagne.
Two hours later, Jenna sat at the dining room table with her laptop and a glass of Pinot. Mia had insisted she take a whole bottle home—“I can’t drink it anyway, so it’s your job as my friend to polish it off”— so Jenna was doing her best to be a good friend.
Gertie had dozed off after half a glass of champagne and a full hour of hearing every detail of Mia’s wedding reception. She’d sat with rapt attention through the stories of canapés and Mia’s rude cousins, but she’d really perked up when Jenna got to the part about being stuck on the roof.
“It’s a good thing the young man was there with the know-how to tackle that wine stain,” Gert had said, her eyes fixed on Jenna’s.
Jenna had nodded, hoping Gert didn’t see the heat creeping into her cheeks. “Good thing.”
“Do you want me to take a look at the dress? Salt only goes so far, after all.”
“I already dropped it off at the cleaners. Why don’t you get some rest, okay?”
“I’m just too excited to rest.” Gert beamed, then seemed to remember something as she fingered the lei around her neck. “About Mia’s reception. I’m excited about Mia’s reception.”
“I know,” Jenna said, resting a hand on Gert’s arm. “I’m excited, too.”
