Someday, Never

“But I don't even really know him,” Jenny said. She had put on her “good” dress, the one she saved for job interviews and funerals, to meet with the attorney.

He handed her the check. It looked surprisingly small. The same size as her paycheck or the rebate checks she got for shopping through a certain website. For $20,000, she expected it to be like the comically large ones she saw SuperLotto winners holding in the ads on top of the gas station pumps.

“As the executor of his estate, I am only carrying out his last wishes.” He paused, and his lawyer like demeanor cleaved just enough to reveal human emotion. “Jenny, I wasn't just your dad's attorney. He was my friend. And although he didn't specifically will this to anyone, I thought you should have it. There wasn't a day that I saw him that he wasn't jotting something or other down in one of these books. I think he bought his first one when he went to college, and every year he started a new one.”

He set a small, pocket sized black book on the desk. It had a thin band of spent elastic around the opening edge.

Jenny let it sit there between the two of them. She would take the money, just as she had taken the tuition checks he sent every semester and the card stuffed with a few bills somewhere in the vicinity of her birthday She suspected that he knew it was in March, but could never remember the exact date. But why should she take this book of his? He hadn't even specifically left it to her.

“He was always talking about you. Bragged about your music, your job at the station.”

He had never come to a single jazz band show when she was a teenager. He scoffed when she got into the best music program on the west coast, asking why she didn't go to a “real” college instead. Now, after years of sparsely attended midnight gigs on random weeknight, here she was, a production engineer at the local public radio station, an increasingly irrelevant job in a rapidly drowning medium. Sometimes, she would fill in as a DJ on one of the late night programs, mostly because she could play whatever she wanted.

The lawyer slid the book a few inches closer to her. “I'm sure you'll miss him”

Miss him? She hadn't seen him since she was twelve. Aside from the annual card and the occasional disappointing phone call, communication was non-existent until a year ago. He had emailed her, asking if she wanted to meet for lunch. She was in the middle of a messy break-up and put him off. When he reached out again a few months later, she had just gotten her new job and the timing wasn't right. When she suggested a dinner in December, he said he was slammed with a new project, but would reach out when things slowed down. And then finally, after months of awkward texts and regretful rain checks, they scheduled a meeting. She thought this could be the start of a relationship. Maybe not father-daughter, but something. Typically, he canceled. She ignored his sporadic texts after that. She wouldn't allow herself to feel hopeful anymore. Sitting here in her good dress, in this unfamiliar office, her anger was still fresh enough to eclipse her grief.

The book remained there, a solitary island on the large mahogany desk of Phillip John Herbert, Esq. Never trust someone with three first names, Jenny thought. But she grabbed the little black book anyway.

The first half of it was worn, pages dog eared, spine cracked from repeated opening. The last half remained fresh and unexplored. Jenny could see dates and notes written down in neat, block style print, immediately recognizable as the same from the never on time birthday cards. A quick glance showed a list of dates and notes. There were lists and appointments, she even spied a musing on the weather. What was this some date book? A journal? Why would “Call-me-Phil” the lawyer want her to have it? She threw it in her purse.

Several months later, Jenny found the notebook again while grabbing the only handbag that went with the “good” dress she was wearing for her promotion interview. The elastic, now slack from age and abuse, allowed it to fall open to the last used page, words covering the left side, the right side pristine. Glancing at down, she recognized the lyrics of a song from her favorite band. Odd. She quickly closed the book and set it on her nightstand. Perhaps she would read it later. Someday.

Book 38

Jan 1

Finish bid for clients on MacArthur Ave.

Brunch with Joe and Kate

Text Jenny. Set up meeting?

Beautiful sunset tonight. Good year coming!

Jan 3

Riverside Golf course. Par 64. Shot 73

Make vet appt. Jan 24 10 am

Reservations Terra Nova 7:30 dinner

Great dinner. Post review

Jan 4

Call MacArthur back

Lump in neck larger. Call dr?

Car door rattles. Call dealer

Cold, windy. Time for a move?

Jan 7

Order windows for Shelton Dr.

Milk, olives, protein bars, chicken breasts

Jenny guest Dj KPNK 10pm-2am!

She played Cartographer twice. Download some songs

Jan 8

Client meeting Jan 12, Riley job

Email radio station ask to make Jenny permanent DJ

Check price of drywall. Cheaper at warehouse?

New socks suck. Throw rest away

Golf reservation for Jan 14

Jan 10

742-765-4461

Find new socks

Follow up with MacArthur

Fever?

Could see the snow on the mountains today. Pretty

Jan 11

pay invoice 113

call building and safety

Check Jenny's blog

drink more water

Jan 12

Sandhurst Course Par 63/ shot 66 PR!

Cancel dinner tomorrow

Call Dr?

Toilet running downstairs

Cartographer, some of it weird, but some good. Remember to focus on the good

Jan 14

Order more supplements

aspirin, OJ, milk, bananas, oatmeal

Google neck lump

Download Jenny's album

Jan 17

$17/ft

Contracts for MacArthur

Check windows Shelton

10am, car at dealer

Leave 5 star review for Jenny album

3pm dr appt

Jan 18

Cancel golf, dinner, meeting at Riley, Jenny

Jan 26

Reschedule vet

Appt with oncology

Tell Jenny?

Pro: maybe become closer

Con: she'll think that you only want her to take care of you

Jan 27

Call Phil. Do I have a will and trust?

Fuck fuck FUCK

Feb 1

Chemo start

Ask Jim to take over Riley and Shelton jobs

Push start date for MacArthur

Jenny KPNK 2-6am

Feb 6

Schedule food delivery. More soups

Ask Joe and Kate to take Sparky

Email station ask for more Jenny

Feb 15

Give MacArthur job to Jim

Sign docs, send back to Phil

Focus. Heal. Goals

Feb 18

Pedialyte, Ensure, watermelon, ginger

Look up smoothie recipes

Surgery March 4

Order belt from Amazon

Feb 24

Send thank you to Kate for meditation book, remind about vet appt

disability?

Call Charles Schwab for 401k rules

personal loans?

March 1

Chemo round 1 done!

Try Jenny again. DO NOT tell her

Check on Shelton and Riley jobs.

Give joe keys to house, car

March 4

The big day

March 7

Still here!

March 9

Send Jenny birthday card

Ask Joe to bring Sparky for a visit

March 12

Chemo round 2

Download books from library onto Kindle

cancel cable, newspaper

Google what is podcast

Check KPNK schedule

March 16

Pedialyte, ginger

March 19

look up radiation side effects

call Schwab to liquidate

Ask Phil for real estate agent

March 23

Hire cleaners, storage unit, movers

Call social security

Possible to get consulting job?

Ask if Jenny got card

Perfect day for golf. Damn

March 30

Sweatpants on amazon

follow up with Phil

sell golf clubs

Google radiation side effects

April 4

Just make it through

April 15

Taxes. Ask for extension

Send Joe treats for Sparky

April 18

radiation is worse than chemo

popsicles

Cream for burns

May 1

Ask Jenny come over

Give Kate list of where to give stuff

Save clubs for Joe

Save albums for Jenny

Google hospice vs palliative care

May 8

Phil coming over with papers

new bed for Sparky

Guys coming over

They act like they are at a funeral. I'm not dead yet guys!

May 17

Call Jenny again

research burial at sea

June 1

Make a list of favorite music for Jenny

Write her a letter?

“Words to A Song”

Cartographer

He said he would come back

But now he's gone

Love's a heart attack

Words set to a song

It's been years since he's seen you

But every heartbeat is your name

And even if you don't answer

He'll love you just the same

Refuse, return, regret

We're even when it's done

And if you should forget

Set these words to a song

He's too far down the road

The distance much too long

Someday, never, you will meet him

And set these words to a song