Winning Wishes

By Anne Hutcheson

A principal, Penney Divan has managed a high school and her active lifestyle successfully while battling cancer and its recurrence. Shes pretty confident at this point in her life she can survive anything. But an array of health issues confronts Penney and her family.

First, her husband Jacks elderly mother is failing and he flies to Colorado to assist her. Jack falls seriously ill with a brain aneurysm and needs surgery. And more tests await Penney. These new situations find Penney initially daunted until she begins to draw on all the resources she has amassed throughout the recent years. Little does she know, however, that even those resources are going to be tested. When this happens, Penneys resiliency and perseverance triumph as she wishes for miracles and searches for an inner peace.

The third installment in The Cancer Chronicles, Winning Wishes follows the earlier books in the series, Ill Will and Beauty Full. In Winning Wishes, Penney discovers wishes do come true in amazing ways.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jan 14, 2016
• ISBN: 9781491782484

Anne Hutcheson

Anne Hutcheson lives with her husband and two savvy rescue cats in State College, Pennsylvania. She enjoys traveling, practicing the healing arts, walking outdoors, writing, cooking, and enjoying a fine glass of wine.

Book preview

Winning

Wishes

ANNE HUTCHESON

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WINNING WISHES

Copyright © 2015, 2016 Anne Hutcheson.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

ISBN: 978-1-4917-8247-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-8246-0 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-8248-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015920083

iUniverse rev. date: 1/14/2016

Contents

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

IX

X

XI

XII

XIII

XIV

XV

XVI

What If

To genuine caregivers everywhere

who steadfastly provide quiet support,

enduring hope,

viable options, and

ongoing unsolicited care,

all with a smile and some love!

Other titles in The Cancer Chronicles:

Ill Will

Beauty Full

There is in every true woman’s heart a spark of heavenly fire, which lies dormant in the broad daylight of prosperity; but which kindles up, and beams and blazes in the dark hour of adversity.

—Washington Irving

No exercise is better for the human heart than reaching down to lift up another person.

—Tim Russert

This is a work of fiction. Like all works of fiction, this novel features passages wherein readers may find themselves identifying with a particular character. If this should happen to you, please look inside your heart.

I

JACK LEANED BACK from his computer, pulled his arms behind him, and laced his fingers together to cradle his head. His blond curls, now riddled with salt-and-pepper flecks, coiled around his fingers. He stared at the image of his wife, Penney, on the screensaver—tall, slender, athletic, and brimming with the joy of life. Beside his computer were additional pictures of Penney. One, from what seemed long ago, was a picture of her before she got cancer. In this one, her wild, crazy red hair framed her face and cascaded in waves beyond her shoulders. She stood on a hill overlooking the blue Caribbean on one of their many trips to St. Martin and was smiling that beautiful smile of hers. Next to this picture was another with Penney sporting one of her amazing scarves. Here she stood in front of a monument in Kuala Lumpur. Jack smiled as he remembered how other women had looked at her in her flamboyant, flowing scarves. The third picture was of Penney when her hair had grown in after her first round of chemo. Penney still wore her hair in that sassy, short pixie style.

What a ride the two of them had been on the last few years. From Penney’s initial diagnosis of cancer to the recurrence to the ongoing reconstruction surgeries, it was more than Jack could take in at times. The whole process was time consuming and emotionally draining, intruding often at the worst of times. Jack shook his head and looked at the work-related notes beside his computer. His thoughts, however, were still fouled by the intrusion of images of Penney ill, then recovering, then extremely ill again when she should have been well. Jack stood up and paced around his office.

His thoughts grew more cluttered. My clients in China and France need my full attention. They have so little sense of how to do business. Penney tries to go it alone, but she gets so ill and so tired. She needs a shoulder to lean on sometimes, but she’ll forge on in spite of all of us and the cancer. Jack shook his head a second time, ran his fingers through his hair, and began to mutter softly to himself.

I need … I need … I need to get back to work.

The ringing of his cell phone jarred his reverie.

Yes, that is my mother. Yes, yes, yes. Okay.

Jack’s pacing had accelerated as he listened to the caller. Jack hung up and stared dumbly at the phone. His pacing abruptly ended. Without really thinking, he then began to dial his mother’s phone number. The shadows of descending dusk were beginning to fill his office.

Hmmm … no answer. The caller had been right.

Before Jack would allow his thoughts to go any further, he called, Penney? The tremor in Jack’s voice could not be mistaken.

Penney took the stairs two at a time to enter Jack’s office.

Yes? Penney asked.

Penney was looking Jack over carefully. His face was ashen. His eyes had no sparkle.

One of my mom’s friends just called to say she and a few other people have not been able to reach my mom the last couple of days. I just tried calling, and no answer.

Jack appeared bewildered, frightened almost. He looked profoundly tired standing there, uncharacteristically slumped. His eyes moved to Penney’s face, but his stare was blank.

I would call the local police and have them check on her. She has a lockbox on the front door, so the police can get in if they need to. You know we’ve both been worried that your mom has not been doing well lately.

Penney continued to assess Jack’s demeanor, looking him over very carefully. He was truly not himself.

I know. Okay …

His voice trailed off as he moved toward his desk. Listlessly, Jack searched the Internet for the phone number of the Mountain View police.

Penney stood still in the doorway, arms wrapped around her chest, waiting.

Jack made the call and arranged for the local police to visit his mother. He would have to wait for them to report back to him. Penney returned downstairs while Jack answered e-mails from his clients in the interim.

When his phone rang after what seemed like hours, he answered tentatively, gripping the front of his desk with one hand.

Uh-huh, uh-huh. Yes, I would like to talk to the doctor.

There was a slight pause until his mom’s doctor came on the line. Jack could sense the doctor had been crying. Her words were measured and punctuated by gulps and short breaths. Jack’s mind was racing.

Taking a deep breath after a moment, Jack spoke slowly. Yes, I will be there. If my mom needs twenty-four-hour care until I can be there, so be it. I don’t care what my sister may think. She hardly speaks to my mom, let alone sees her. Yes, I do understand. Thank you.

Jack hung up slowly, not realizing Penney had entered his office several minutes earlier.

Jack. Jack? Penney searched Jack’s face, trying to turn his focus toward her.

Jack slowly looked up at Penney. His face was sunken, his whole persona shrouded in a ghostly pallor.

She may be dying, Penney. Her doctor was pretty upset. She said she has been seeing my mom for forty years, and she has never seen my mom like this. I have to go.

Of course you do. What can I do to help? Penney continued to watch Jack’s face.

Nothing now. Let me see how bad it really is, Jack answered flatly.

Penney hugged Jack long and slow, her concern expressed in her lingering touch. She let Jack go, took one more long look at him, and then returned downstairs.

Listening to Penney’s fading footsteps, Jack quickly pulled himself together enough to organize flight reservations, make a few business calls, and pack.

Jack still appeared stunned the next morning when Penney drove him to the airport. He had not slept well all night. Every little task appeared laborious for him, from preparing the morning coffee to getting dressed. Jack waved to Penney, vacantly looking her way as he disappeared into the terminal. Penney blew him kisses and slowly made her way toward the airport exit.

II

PENNEY THOUGHT IT best to stick to routines for the day. She hoped ordinary activities would preoccupy her until she heard from Jack. She drove from the airport to the coffee shop. Before she exited her car, Penney took a deep breath and found herself silently reciting prayers she had not visited for decades. Her mother-in-law might very well be dying. Certainly, her physical health had not been good for years, and she was in her late nineties. This would be hard on him, Penney knew. She sighed. And it would be another interruption for him.

Penney gathered a book and papers from the backseat of her car and entered the coffee shop with her arms full. She stacked her stuff on a small table near the door. The room was full of people bent over newspapers, computers, and various sugary confections. Penney eyed the bakery case, having her usual internal debate—should she indulge herself in that chocolate croissant or sensibly order a bowl of oatmeal? After ordering her latte, she opted for the croissant and smiled all the way through each buttery layer. As she savored the treat, Penney found working difficult as she wondered what Jack’s report would be this evening. Penney wondered whether she shouldn’t have insisted on going with Jack, even though she knew that move would have just added