A Death & A Deliverance - Part IV

The first time I met Jinny, I couldn’t stand her. She was the gushy, chatty girlfriend of my son, Julian, and she walked around radiating almost unbearable positive energy despite the fact that, at 32 years old, she was terminally ill. It was almost too late before I began to see her in a different light. 

THIS IS PART 4 of a SEVEN-PART STORY

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

 

Jinny

Jinny led us out of the room and down a long corridor to a plush couch pushed up against a wall at the very end, about as far away from her fellow mourners as she could get. “They don’t like me,” she muttered through gnashed teeth. “They don’t want me here.”

“Who?” I asked.

“My step siblings. They hate me.”

“What? Why?” I asked.

Her eyes were tear stained and she had a lost look on her face. Her beautiful copper skin was ashen. “Because I wasn’t related to Count. They think I don’t belong here.”

Jinny had loved her stepfather fiercely. She couldn’t imagine not being allowed to grieve for him along with the others. I tried to ease her burden by saying, “Oh, I’m sure everything will turn out all right,” but she knew better. “They refuse to accept my connection with him. I don’t mean to sound crass,” (she rubbed her eyes hard here) “but they probably won’t let me have any of the things he promised me.”

This was the first conversation I had with Jinny that wasn’t gushy, platitude-heavy bullshit. She was a real girl, angry and frustrated, not just a person who walked around radiating almost unbearable positive energy. I began to see her in a different light.

And I wanted my relationship with Julian to be better. He had been my wild child, obstinate and full of crazy notions, a kid who’d been in drunken car wrecks, was fascinated by guns, ran around with questionable people, loved to change persona (he’d dress in a three piece suit one day, and a muscle shirt revealing full sleeve tattoos the next). He and I didn’t get along well. The truth was, I couldn’t relate to him and the conversations we had ran on different tracks, never properly connecting. One day it struck me that if I wanted my bond with Julian to strengthen I’d have to forge a deeper relationship with Jinny. At this point, she was staying for longer and longer periods in the hospital. She’d have an infection and they’d book her in for four or five days. Julian, who was her sole caregiver, was always going over there to see her, so I started going, too. The first time I raised my hand to knock on her closed door, my heart was racing.