Chapter 9

"Excuse me?" Betsy cried indignantly. "Are you accusing me of flirting with Mr. Kringle?" They were flying down the deserted road in Jess' beat-up jeep. Betsy was sitting in back with the grocery bags, and Jess and Susanne sat in front, laughing.

"Well, maybe not flirting, Bets," Jess replied. "But you have to admit, you were giggling an awful lot. And what was with that touching his shoulder thing? My goodness, it was like you were hitting on my friendly grocery clerk!"

"I couldn't believe it," Susanne added. "Not back for a week, and she's already moving in on your territory, Jess."

"Oh, shut up!" Betsy exclaimed. "You guys are so odd!"

"I know. We're just so weird!" Jess agreed, drawing out the last word into a nasally whine.

"You know what I think," Betsy said, putting on a certain philosophical air. "I think you two are just jealous. In reality, you both want Mr. Kringle, and you're pissed that he picked me over you."

"She's onto us, Jess," Susanne whispered loudly. "What are we gonna do to her?"

"Make her wash the dishes tonight, of course," Jess immediately replied. "All of them. That way, her hands will become red and dry, and if I know one thing about my Kringle, it's that he only likes women with smooth hands!"

"You are so vindictive!" Betsy replied. The conversation faded out then, becoming replaced with laughter until they reached the house, and saw Pam and Katrie on the porch. The two were sitting side by side on the swinging love-seat, eagerly bent over what appeared to be three big books spread across their laps. Susanne and Jess immediately jumped out of the car to see what was going on, leaving Betsy behind. "Oh, hey, no problem guys!" she cried. "I'll get the bags!"

"What-cha doin'?" Susanne called, ignoring her struggling friend in the car.

"We rummaged around Jess' stuff, and found her photo albums," Katrie explained, looking up. Jess raised her eyebrow and narrowed her eyes, but said nothing in response.

"We thought it might help me with my story," Pam went on, looking guilty. By this time, they all had heard about her idea, and she was planning on starting on it as soon as she could. "You know, maybe we'd find some really great memories to work into it."

"And?" Susanne asked, scurrying behind the love-seat to get a better look at the pictures. "What did you find?"

"Interesting material," Katrie replied. "Here, look at this." She peeled a picture off a page, and handed it to Susanne, who took one look at it and laughed out loud.

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed. "Here, Jess! Do you remember this?" Jess took it, giving Katrie a penetrating glance. She shrunk back in her seat, but kept the mischievous smile on her face.

"How could I forget it?" She studied the image, which showed the five of them gathered in front of Betsy's couch. A deck of cards was strewn in front of them, the remnants of a poker game they had played with George after he proclaimed them incapable of beating him simply because of their gender. They were all holding fistfuls of money in the picture, which barely showed George lying behind them with a washcloth on his forehead. He had been losing pitifully, and finally gave after feigning a terrible headache and dizzy spells. It was supposed to be Betsy's twenty-fourth birthday party, right before graduation, but it became the last night Betsy and George were an official couple. This was a pivotal point in the group's history, because it finally obliterated their hated enemy of four years. After that, he just became pathetic.

"What are we looking at?" Betsy finally came bounding up the steps, having given up on the groceries. She leaned over Jess' shoulder to peek at the photo, getting a surprised look on her face as the image sunk in. "Wow, I forgot all about that night. I thought there weren't any pictures taken at that party."

"Only your camera broke," Pam replied. "And Jess spent about ten minutes teaching your mother how to use hers. All for that one picture."

"But how classic," Susanne cut in. "The group defeats the stalker. It's so symbolic."

"Okay, I remember now," Betsy said. "George was so angry that we beat him. After you left, he actually started giving the silent treatment, right after he accused me of being a man-hating femi-nazi. All because we beat him at poker and teased him about it. Thank goodness mom and dad went to bed early. They would have cried if they saw me dump him and kick him out of the house. Literally, too, if I remember correctly. That was fun."

"Yeah, and we missed it," Jess said. "And your parents would have been bawling. That, or heart attacks at the mere mention of his despicable qualities."

"That's Bill and Genie for you," Betsy replied, getting a colder look in her eyes.

"Have you talked to them yet?" Pam asked tentatively. Susanne, Jess, and Katrie looked confused, not having known there was no communication between the family members prior to that instant.

"Would it make me a better daughter if I said I had thought about it?" Betsy replied absently. She placed the picture on top of the nearest photo album.

"Not really," Pam said, rather harshly. "Don't you think you should just put the whole thing behind you? It's been two years, Bets."

"Two years since they kicked me out of their lives for not going by the rules they set down for me when I was an infant," Betsy snapped. "I tried to explain it to them, but they ignored me. They listened to George instead of their own daughter! And I'm supposed to go rushing home to try to patch things up with them the moment I get back into the country?"

"Um, let's not get crazy," Katrie interrupted. "Bets, we all know how you feel about your family, and you must have a thousand reasons to not talk to them. Pam, although we may not agree with the reasons, they are hers, and she has a right to them."

"That was supportive, Katrie," Bets replied dryly. "Thanks."

"Have you guys talked about this before?" Susanne asked. "Because I'm sensing a past argument here."

"It's just a disagreement," Pam said. "I think Betsy should call her parents and at least tell them she's back from Africa, and she doesn't want to because she's still harboring all that resentment from when she left."

"I'm not saying I'm never going to do it," Betsy said. "I'm just saying that I don't want to do it now."

"Why not?" Jess asked, finally breaking her silence. "What could it hurt?" Betsy was obviously taken aback by the question, and didn't answer for a moment.

"I wouldn't know what to say," she admitted. "I mean, it's been two years, and it's not like I really regret leaving. I'm sure they'd still be too mad to talk to me."

"Or they might miss you," Jess said. "After all, they are your parents, and parents have a tendency to love their children, even after two years of the silent treatment."

Betsy grimaced, looking around her group of friends. There faces all told her where they stood on the subject, and it wasn't exactly behind her all the way. She felt defeated. "Okay, how's about this," she began. "I think about it some more, and I mean really seriously consider the pros and cons of it all. Then, when I figure out what I'm going to do about it, I'll tell you. But I will do something, I promise."

"Well, that's good for now, I suppose," Jess replied. "But what are you going to do about George?" She held the picture up for Betsy to see.

"If he ever tries to talk to me again, no matter what," Betsy said slowly. "I'll show him what real man-haters do to stalkers like Georgy-boy."

"Ouch." Pam took the dreadful picture and put it away.

@*@*@

Jess walked into the kitchen, coming up behind Katrie, who was rinsing off the plastic nebulizers she used for her daily medical treatments. "Hey, dearie," she said. Katrie started a bit, and whirled to face her.

"Hey!" she cried. "Don't ever do that again." She laughed for a moment, until her giggles dissolved into a series of weak coughs. Jess wrinkled her brow, concerned.

"You all right?" she asked.

"Of course," Katrie replied, hastily. "Just let me get my treatments done, and this scratch will go away."

"Well, it's just that I've noticed you've been coughing a lot lately," Jess continued. "I know it's only been a week, so maybe I'm not one to judge, but could there be another hospital visit in your future? Soon?

"Aren't you the blunt one today?" Katrie retorted. "That is what Dad's been saying, though. I don't know, maybe I'll have to go in in a few months. Not now, though. Not for a while..." She let her voice trail off, her face showing her obvious indecision on the matter.

"But?" Jess asked, urging her to continue. "And? Or? What?"

"But, in a few months, I'll be married," she said. "And suddenly it won't just be my problem, it will be Paul's too. I'm worried about how he'll handle it."

"What do you mean?" Jess asked, perplexed. "How could he handle it badly? He does know about Cystic Fibrosis, right?"

"Oh, yeah, of course he knows about it," Katrie replied. "But, it's just that he's never really been confronted with it. I mean, he's seen me take my pills and do my treatments, but that's all kind of detached, you know?"

"Well, that's all I do," Jess replied. "And I think I understand the situation pretty well. Then again, I also don't think I'm really fighting anything, more like I'm simply cheering you on from the sidelines. So, yeah, it does have some detachment to it. That, and we're not around each other all the time, so although I'm always pushing for you, the fight isn't always in clear view. "

"Exactly," she replied. "But after the wedding, when Paul moves in, he's going to see it every day. The bottles of medicine in the kitchen, the machines in the computer room, the runs to the pharmacy, not to mention the friendly pharmacists who I know on a first name basis now. Plus, he'll see the bills, and although we've talked about it a few times, I'm still afraid he's not prepared to completely share a life with me."

"Cystic Fibrosis isn't the only part of your life," Jess stated. "And if you have talked it over and Paul still thinks it's not a problem, then I'm willing to bet it won't be."

"Maybe not a problem," Katrie agreed. "But something, and I think I'm allowed to wonder what."

"Yeah," Jess said. "You should, because just ignoring this whole change like it isn't even there would be wrong, and would definitely put Paul in a spot. Just don't let it turn you away from the marriage three weeks before the wedding."

"Closer to two, actually," Katrie said thoughtfully. "And, no, I don't think I actually got to that stage. I spent two and a half months busting my butt over the wedding just so I could come here right before it."

"You're dramatizing things, dear," she replied. "I'm sure CF won't be as catastrophic to Paul as you think it will."

"You say that because you can't see the difference those two little letters make on a person," Katrie said accusingly.

"No, I can see how its affected you," Jess argued. "You forget, I'm the observant one. But I also see that you're a merciless fighter of CF, and you love Paul too much to let a silly physical ailment to get in the way of your happiness."

"Silly physical ailment," Katrie echoed, amused. "You're just not going to let me get away with wallowing in a pit of despair, are you?"

"I used to have one of those pits in the basement, but the taxes on it were ridiculous, so I had it filled in," Jess joked. "Other than that, I wouldn't let you wallow anyway, because I find wallowers to be simply annoying." With that, she went about making herself a cup of chocolate milk, which was why Jess had come in there in the first place.

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