DEAR LISA | JENLISA

TEN

LISA

Still month two

April, 12:51 a.m.
***

WHY HADN'T SHE gotten a fifth opinion? They'd gone to Dr. Bennett at Rhode Island Hospital, then to Mass General and Brigham and Women's in Boston and, later, to the Mayo Clinic. Every pulmonologist agreed that the treatment plan Dr. Bennett had laid out was the same one they would've followed.

And everyone could see how well that turned out.

Lisa should've taken her to Yale New Haven. And NewYork-Presbyterian. And National Jewish Health in Denver. UCSF. Cleveland Clinic. Shit, there had to be places that did better.

Earlier in the day-technically yesterday, she noted-she'd tried to work, but got derailed when a notification from Pulmonary Fibrosis News popped up. A new trial was coming, and the lead researcher was from Yale.

They should've gone to Yale. She should've kept looking. If she had, Jennie could well be here with her now, quite possibly even better. She could move closer to her, put her arm around her, kiss her shoulder. She would turn toward her, sleepy but smiling, and they'd kiss, and ahe'd slide her hand under her shirt and feel the warm curve of her breast.

She jammed her fingers in her hair and clenched her head. She wasn't going to make it through this night. She'd call Jisoo, but-shit, no, it was way too late. That grief forum she'd found for young widows and widowers? The subreddit group?

No. No. She didn't want to be around more pain.

Time to call AppleCare.

It was that, or she'd start howling or run into the streets or go into the first-floor gym to hit the punching bag, but the last time she did that, Creepy Charlotte had come in (at three a.m.) to do yoga in very little clothing.

Apple it would be. She had an extended warranty, and it was time for that investment to pay off.

She called 1-800-MY-APPLE, so easy to remember from that time when her laptop froze during a system upgrade. It had taken forever, but the person had been wicked nice.

She punched the appropriate buttons and said the appropriate words-computer. MacBook Air. Software not updating. Then, finally, she heard a human voice.

"Hi, this is Rory, who am I speaking to?"

"Lisa."

"Can I have your phone number in case we get disconnected?"

Lisa gave it, then explained her nonexistent problem.

"No worries," said Rory, his voice chipper. "We can do a safe reboot and see what happens."

"Great," said Lisa. Rory gave her the instructions, and Lisa pretended to do the things.

"This might take a little while," Rory said.

"Not a problem." Was Rory going to hang up? "Uh, if you could stay on the line till it's up and running . . ."

"Yeah, absolutely."

They sat in amiable silence for a minute or two.

"How's the weather where you are?" asked Rory.

"It's beautiful," Lisa said, having no idea what the weather was like at the moment.

"Where do you live?"

"Hawaii. Kauai," Lisa lied.

"Oh, you're lucky! What's it like there?"

It would be seven o'clock there. The sun would be starting to set, and she'd be sitting on the deck of their house, and Jennie would bring her a glass of ice water with a sprig of mint in it. She'd have a glass of rosé, and she'd curl up next to her.

"It's beautiful. It's Hawaii, right? Um . . . our house is up on a cliff. It rained a little while ago, but it's gorgeous now. Sunset will be soon." Those sunsets had been incredible, better than any movie.

"Must be amazing."

"Oh, yeah. A real nice place to live."

"Kauai, that's the little island, right?" Rory asked.

"One of them. It's called the Garden Island, because it rains so much. Really lush. They filmed part of Jurassic Park here."

"Oh, cool. Were you born there?"

"Yes." Like every person who visited Hawaii, she and Jennie had talked about living there someday. She wanted to raise their kids close to their families, so living in Hawaii would be down the road a bit, once the kids were in college, but when she and Jennie were still young enough to snorkel and surf and hike.

Yep.

The images were so clear, she could smell the plumeria. She'd wear a Hawaiian shirt every day, and their kids would learn the language and be good stewards of the land. Jennie would manage to get a little tan. She'd work on developing parks and help preserve Hawaiian cultural spots and-

"So if I was gonna go to Hawaii, which islands should I see?" Rory asked.

"Well, definitely Kauai," Lisa said. "Natural beauty, the prettiest beach in the world at Hanalei Bay. My wife loves to bodysurf, and she says that place is the best." Which was true. She had. "Maui is fantastic, too. Great hotels and restaurants, plus Haleakalā National Park. You have to see the sunset from there. Bring a coat, though. It gets cold. For volcanoes, go to the Big Island."

If the medical engineering didn't work out, she could become a tour guide, maybe. This other version of herself was quite talkative. Full of information.

On the phone with Rory, she didn't have to be Lisa in gray Rhode Island. She could be Lisa who lived in Hawaii and went fishing and knew a sushi chef who'd make you a roll before the catch was even an hour old. She was outgoing, rather than socially awkward, this Lisa who sat in the dark and lied. She sure as hell wasn't Lisa Whose Wife Died.

"Where do you live, Rory?" he asked.

"I live in Montana. Also really beautiful, but totally different, I'm sure."

"Are you near the mountains?"

"Sure am."

"Do you get to Yellowstone at all?"

"Oh, yeah, I love Yellowstone. Hayden Valley is my favorite part."

Lisa and Jennie had planned on going there. My God. They never would. They never would.

"My wife and I hope to get there," he said around the tightness in his throat. "Maybe this summer."

"Wait for September if you can. Fewer tourists."

"Cool," Lisa said. "There are bison, right?"

"Absolutely. Big as a truck." Lisa could imagine it. Jennie would shriek if they came too close. Nah. She'd be brave. She wondered if they could see a wolf. She loved wolves.

The companionable silence stretched on.

"How are we doing with the download? Almost there?" Rory asked.

"Um . . . yes! Seems like everything's back to normal." Shit. Guess he'd have to hang up now, since he'd been on the phone for an hour and thirteen minutes. "Thanks so much, Rory."

"You bet. You'll get an email survey about how we did, and if you have any other issues . . ."

"No. I'm fine. Uh . . . thank you."

Thank you for being a voice in the middle of the night. Thanks for letting me be someone else for a little while. Thanks for working the night shift. Thanks for never knowing how much I lost.

The survey came. She gave Rory top marks for everything.