“He does.” Jerry hugged her. “We can’t go second-guessing the professionals. I realize that wasn’t always the case back when, um, when… when they were treating your brother, but medicine has come light years since then. At least most of it has.” He looked down into her eyes, and was amazed at how much life there was in their sparkle. He kissed the end of her nose and opened his arms. “Now, shall we look at this Will Kit and decide who gets what should all of medical science not be able to put me together again?” Grabbing the kit off the desk, he took it over to the couch.
“It is such a grim thing. Is it absolyutno neobkhodimo—absolutely necessary?”
“If I die without a will, there’ll be a huge mess and the government will get involved. I’ve been thinking that maybe I should leave my few investments to Manny in lieu of continuing to rent this place for you.”
“No! I do not want to be here if you are not here!”
“Where will you go, Ana? Your destiny is your own, now that you can carry the book and go wherever you want. If you had a Social Insurance Number, you could get a part-time job and even stay here. Maybe I can arrange something with Manny.”
Ana grabbed his chin and forced him to face her. “Jeremy What-ever-your-middle-name-is Powell, if you are not in this world then I do not want to be, either. I would rather return to the book for all eternity.”
“I wish I knew how you got in there in the first place, because then I could join you, if there’s room. I could donate the book to a good library with a rare book collection and we could live out eternity haunting a library and reading our way to the end of time.”
“That sounds absolutely wonderful. While you decide what goes to whom, I will look for an appropriate library.” She went to the desk and opened up the laptop. “Of course it will all be moot because I have faith in you. In my heart of hearts, Darling, I know that this cancer will not kill you.”
“If I were betting my money, I’d go with the prognosis on this one, but if I’m putting my hopes and dreams on the line, I like your thinking, Shvibzik.”
“Excellent. Now write out that ghastly Last Will and Testament and I will do the ghostly Googling and find us the perfect library. Any particular city?”
“I’ve always wanted to see Paris, or even London, and they’re both a lot closer to Moscow than Victoria is. I’d love to see where you grew up.”
“And I would love to show it to you. Once you have beaten this nasty cancer into submission or remission, maybe we should plan a trip.”
Jerry’s hand holding the pen trembled violently and his tongue felt heavy, but it passed as quickly as it came. “Okay. A trip.” He struggled to make the words sound normal, so as to not alarm Ana. “When I’m better.” He turned his attention back to the will, knowing full well that as sweet as Ana’s wishes, plans, and predictions were, the facts were pretty damning. He wouldn’t be visiting Russia in this lifetime.
ANA NARROWED IT DOWN to two academic libraries in France and three in the British Isles, all of which had special collections of Tsarist Russian documents. She printed out the list and went about making Jerry a late lunch while Ofra Harnoy’s cello softly reimagined the music of the Beatles in the background.
His own task hadn’t gone as well, and he was still torn between leaving everything to Ana outright or leaving it to Manny and Carmella to administer for Ana. If he did that, though, he would have to bring them in on Ana’s not-so-little secret so that they understood the whys and wherefores of his unusual bequest. A headache rolled in just before he finished his list of possessions but he pushed through, lastly leaving his digital music collection to Mika. He’d have to make a copy to another external hard-drive for Ana, but he wanted the original files to go to Mika and Danveer. He dropped a couple painkillers into his palm from the bottle he now carried everywhere as religiously as Ana carried her book. Summoning a bit of saliva, he tossed the capsules back and read over his notes.
The sound of rain pounding on the windows finally drew his attention away from the paper in front of him so he wandered over to the window. It was a cold, ugly rain, matching his mood exactly. No lightning flashed nor thunder rolled. It was simply wet and relentless. He sat on the window bench and stared out at the greyness as the heavy raindrops pounded the streets empty of civilization. So far as he’d seen in his few weeks here, it was a quiet street most days, but today it looked abandoned, like the zombie apocalypse had rolled through and left only two survivors—a ghost beyond their appetites, and a guy soon to join their ranks.
He let the steady, thumping, hum of the rain lull him and soon Ana joined him, silently placing the plated sandwich in front of him. She seemed to understand his melancholy and gave him the quiet he needed. He blew her a quick kiss, started in on the sandwich, and the two of them turned their attention back to the rain.
“I should probably have a nap before I call Mom and Carole,” Jerry eventually suggested.
“Would you care for some company?”
“Always.” He led her to the couch and they stretched out, he with his back to the cushions and she with her back to him and his arms encircling her, symbolically protecting her from a world that could no longer hurt her. She wiggled in close to him and giggled when he kissed the back of her neck.
“Sleep tight, my shining knight.”
“You, too, my glowing Shvibzik.”
Chapter Twenty-one
@TheTaoOfJerr: “A gentleman is someone who knows how to play the banjo and doesn’t.”
“MOM, BEFORE WE go any further, you have to promise me that you won’t hang up or disconnect, no matter how much you might want to.”
“Now, Jeremy, why would I do that? You’re just being insulting.”
“That’s not my intention. I had a similar conversation yesterday with friends back in St. Marys and they hung up on me.”
“I’m not your so-called friends back in that dinky little town you never should have moved to in the first place, I’m your mother. Now, what’s so important that this conversation couldn’t be between just you and me on a real telephone on the weekend, not this ridiculous video thing when I should be playing bridge?”
Jerry’s younger sister, Carole, huffed at their mother. “Mom, give it a rest. Skype is better than that tinny speakerphone feature on your old handset. This way we can actually see Jerry’s face and he can see us.”
“This new technology is just a waste. I don’t know why you even have to live all the way out there, anyway. If you moved back to Toronto we could be having this conversation face to face. I don’t even have any idea how this Skype-thing works.”
“You don’t have to, Mom. I’m handling the technical end of it. You just have to look at the camera and talk.” Carole’s hand reached up and blocked her laptop’s camera for a moment while she showed her mother where it was. “And I know you can talk.”
“Don’t get smart with me, young lady. You know what I mean.”
Jerry took a deep breath and cut them off. “Are you two finished? Mom, if there were any other way to have this conversation, we would do it, but there isn’t. Carole, thanks for setting this up. Jean-Marc, I see you back there. If you want to run screaming from the room, I completely understand.”
Jean-Marc waved and smiled. “Thanks, Jerr. I’m good. What’s up, mon ami?”
It was time. He felt Ana squeeze his hand from off-camera. They felt it best to wait until after he dropped the bombshell before doing any introductions. “I’ve been to see a doctor. It turns out that my headaches aren’t the result of a lumpy mattress or changes in the weather or—”