And when Liz walked into her classroom, she closed the door quietly and turned to look at her students. They were all there, twenty-one little clean shining faces, bright eyes and expectant smiles, and she knew for certain that they loved her. And she knew just as certainly that she loved them. And she had to say goodbye to them now. She couldn't just leave them, disappear without explaining. She turned and drew a big heart on the blackboard with pink chalk and they giggled.
“Happy Valentine's Day, everybody!” She looked happy today, and she was. She had completed something that meant a great deal to her. It was her gift to them, and herself, and to Jane.
“It's not Valentine's Day!” Bill Hitchcock announced. “It's Christmas!” Ever the wise guy and she laughed.
“Nope. Today is my Valentine's Day to you. This is my chance to tell you how much I love you.” She felt a lump rise in her throat and she knew she couldn't let it. “I want everyone to be very quiet for a little while. I have a Valentine for everyone …and then we're going to have a party of our own …before the other party!” They began to look intrigued and sat as still as they could, considering it was the last day. She called them up, one by one, and handed them each a Valentine she had made, which told them what she loved best about them, their skills, and their best features, and their achievements. She reminded each one of how well they had done, even if it was only at sweeping the playground. She reminded each one of the fun they had had, and each Valentine was covered with cutouts and pictures and funny sayings that were important to each child, and they sat back, a little awed, holding their Valentines like rare gifts, which they were. It had taken her months and the last of her strength to make them.
And then she pulled out two trays of heart-shaped cupcakes and another tray of beautifully decorated cookies. She had made them for everyone, and she hadn't even told Jane. She had just told her that it was for the main party. And she had done some for them, too, but these were special. These were for “her” second graders.
“And the last thing I'm going to say to you is how much I love you, how proud I am of how wonderful you've been all year …and how well I know you'll do in third grade next year with Mrs. Rice.”
“Won't you be here anymore, Mrs. Fine?” a little voice piped up from the back row, and a little boy with black hair and dark eyes looked at her sadly, clutching his Valentine in one hand, and his cupcake with the other. It was so beautiful he didn't even want to eat it.
“No, Charlie. I won't. I'm going away for a while.” The tears came anyway. “And I'm going to miss you all terribly. But I'll see you again one day. Each one of you. Remember that…” She took a deep breath and didn't try to hide the tears anymore. “And when you see Jane, my little girl, give her a kiss from me.” There was a loud sob in the front row. It was Nancy Farrell, and she ran up and threw her arms around Liz' neck.
“Please don't go, Mrs. Fine …We love you. …”
“I don't want to, Nancy. I really, really don't…but I think I have to …” And then, one by one, they came up and she kissed them and held each one of them. “I love you. Each and every one of you.” And with that, the bell sounded, and she took a deep breath and looked at them. “I think that means it's time to go to the party.” But they were a solemn little group, and Billy Hitchcock asked if she would visit them. “If I can, Billy.” He nodded, and they filed into the hall more neatly than they had all year, with their goodies in little bags, and their Valentines. And they looked at her, as she smiled at them. She was a part of them forever. And as she stood watching them, Tracy came by, and sensed what had happened. If nothing else, she knew Liz' last day would be hard on her.
“How'd it go?” She whispered.
“Okay, I guess.” She blew her nose and wiped her eyes, and her friend gave her a warm hug.
“Did you tell them?”
“More or less. I said I was leaving. But I think I said it. Some of them understood it.”
“That's a nice gift to give them, Liz, instead of just disappearing from their lives.”
“I couldn't have done that.” She couldn't do it to anyone. Which was why she had appreciated Ruth coming by the house on the way to the airport. It was a time to say goodbyes, and she didn't want to be cheated of the chance to say them. She had a difficult time leaving the teachers when she left the school, and she was exhausted as she and Jane drove home later that morning. Jane was so quiet that it frightened her and she suspected that she might have heard about her “Valentine party” and resented it. She was still trying not to face what was coming.
“Mommy?” It was the most solemn little face Liz had ever seen as she turned off the car and looked at her outside their house.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“You're still not getting better, are you?”
“Maybe a little.” She wanted to pretend, for her sake, but they both knew she was lying.
“Can't they do something special?” After all, she was such a special person. Jane was eight years old and she was losing the mother she loved. Why wouldn't anyone help her?
“I feel okay.” Jane nodded, but the tears poured down her cheeks as Liz whispered hoarsely. “I'm so sorry to have to leave you. But I'll always be near you, watching over you and Daddy and Alex.” Jane hurled herself into her mother's arms, and it was a long time before they got out of the car and went inside arm in arm. Jane almost looked bigger than her mother.
That afternoon Tracy came to take Jane out for an ice cream cone and a walk in the park, and she left with a lighter step than Liz had seen in months, and she herself felt better, and closer to the child than she had since it had all begun. It wasn't easier, but it was better.
And that afternoon she sat down with four pieces of paper, and wrote a letter to each of them, not a long one, but she told each of the people she loved how much she loved them, and why, and how much they meant to her, and how sorry she was to leave them. There was a letter for Bernie, and Ruth, and Jane, and Alexander. The one to him was the hardest of all because he would never even have known her.
She slipped the letters into her Bible, which she kept in a dresser drawer, and she felt better after she had done it. It had been on her mind for a long time. And now it was done. And that night, when Bernie came home, they packed for Stinson Beach, and everyone was in a festive mood when they left the next morning.
Chapter 22
It was three weeks later, on the first of July, that she was scheduled to come back to town for another treatment, and for the first time she refused. The day before she told Bernie she didn't want to, and at first he panicked, and then he called Johanssen and asked him what to do about it.
“She says she's happy here and she wants to be left alone. Do you think she's giving up?” He had waited till she had gone for a walk with Jane. They would walk down to the water, and sit looking at the surf, and sometimes Jane carried the baby. Liz hadn't wanted any help at the beach, and she was still cooking and taking care of Alexander as best she could. And Bernie was there to help her all the time, and Jane loved helping with the baby.
“She might be,” the doctor answered. “And I can't really tell you that forcing her to come in for chemo is going to make a lot of difference. Maybe it won't do her any harm to take a week off. Why don't we postpone it till next week?”
He suggested it to Liz that afternoon, admitting that he had called the doctor and she scolded him, but she laughed when she did it. “You're getting sneaky in your old age, you know that?” She leaned over and kissed him, and he remembered the happy times and the first time he had come to the beach to see her.