six
ON THURSDAY, RAINA invited her friends over to her gated townhome community to soak up some sun by the community pool. “New suit?” Raina asked when Holly removed her cover-up and showed off her white bikini.
“I had to smuggle it out of the house, so please don’t say a word to Hunter.”
“Why not?”
“He might blab to Mom and Dad and I’ll be grounded for life.”
“Just for wearing a bikini? I don’t get it.”
“Neither do I,” Holly said with a sigh. “If they had their way, I’d be wrapped up like a mummy.”
Kathleen raised her head from where she was stretched out on a towel and looked Holly over. “The suit’s cute.” She was slathered in sunscreen because as a redhead, she didn’t tan, she burned. “Hard to believe that it caused such an uproar last Saturday night.”
“Tell me about it.” Holly gauged the sun’s angle and carefully laid her towel on the other side of Kathleen, then sat down and began to spread a film of tanning lotion on her arms, legs and pale white torso. “Do you know how bad I wanted to go to that party?”
“You didn’t miss much,” Kathleen said.
“Has Carson tracked you down since then?” Raina asked.
“No,” Kathleen said. “But I didn’t expect him to either.” Privately, she felt disappointed in him, but also in herself. She had looked for him in the hospital halls when she transported patients but she hadn’t seen him. Nor had she seen his name on the daily volunteer sign-up sheets. She wished she could figure out why she was attracted to him. She had a list of reasons why she shouldn’t care, yet she did.
“He’s probably in jail,” Raina said, adjusting her sunglasses. “I’ll bet his party turned into a free-for-all. And the beer keg probably didn’t earn him points with anybody except the kids who were drinking it.”
“I still wanted to go,” Holly said. “You never know when a cute guy’s going to come along and meet me.”
Raina giggled. “You would have been dressed for it. I don’t think I saw a girl there who wasn’t wearing a bikini.”
“Hunter told me about that Steffie girl.”
Raina sat upright, a frown creasing her face. “What did he say about her?”
“He said it was like standing next to a pit viper. You couldn’t be sure where she was going to strike.”
Mollified, Raina lay back down. “True. There was definitely something going on between her and Carson. Don’t you think so, Kathleen?”
“Yes, there was, but who cares? Can we change the subject, please? I’m tired of talking about people who don’t matter one bit to our lives.” She rolled over onto her stomach, but not before seeing Holly and Raina exchange knowing glances.
On Thursday, Kathleen got her mother into the van and drove to the hospital for a regular checkup with her neurologist and MS specialist, Dr. Emma Sanders. Since it was going to be a long day, Kathleen brought a book to read, but instead followed a technician when he took Mary Ellen down to Nuclear Medicine for an MRI. First Mary Ellen was given a special contrasting dye agent in an IV; then she was placed on a table that moved her through a tubelike machine. The machine took color images of her brain that would show lesions and help Dr. Sanders trace signs of changes in her illness.
Kathleen had begun reading about MS when she was ten and starting to understand that her mother was different from her friends’ mothers. Her realization had come to a head when she was in fourth grade and a bratty older boy watched Mary Ellen’s staggering gait in the grocery store and shouted, “What’s wrong with your mother? Is she drunk?”
Kathleen shoved him straight into a display of cereal boxes and ran.
Kathleen knew the details of her mother’s illness by heart: Multiple sclerosis is a disease that most often occurs in young adults, people in their prime. For unknown reasons, the myelin, the fatty tissue that protects the nerve fibers, is destroyed and replaced by scarring until the whole central nervous system—the brain and spinal cord—is affected. Over time, the victim experiences seizures, slurring of speech, vision problems and an unsteady walk, even paralysis. Yet there are long periods when the disorder seems to retreat and leave its victim in peace. Mary Ellen’s flare-ups were unpredictable, and although she was on many medications to slow the progress of her disease, there was no cure.
When the MRI was finished, Kathleen and her mother returned to Dr. Sanders’s office. While her mother was changing back into her street clothes, Dr. Sanders asked Kathleen, “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. How’s Mom doing?” These appointments made Kathleen nervous. She just wanted her mother to receive a good report.
Dr. Sanders stood, saying, “Let me show you something.” At a light board hung on the wall, the doctor pointed to a clear, sharp MRI film of Mary Ellen’s brain. “What do you see?”
Parts of the picture looked gray, speckled with dark patches. Others parts had bright patches, like sparks. Kathleen stared. “Mom’s MS?”
Dr. Sanders nodded. “The bright patches are healthy myelin. The dark holes are where the tissue has been greatly damaged, even lost. Black holes mean permanent disabilities.”
Kathleen felt her heart squeeze. “Is she getting worse?”
“Not necessarily. The new medications are helping, keeping her in remissions longer, I think. Time and future scans will tell.”
“But that’s good.” Kathleen felt encouraged.
“Yes, that’s good.” Dr. Sanders flipped off the board’s light switch. “Your mother’s holding her own with the disease. But I’m thinking about you right now.”
“Me? But why? I told you, I feel fine.”
“You’re her primary caregiver, aren’t you?”
“Others help. We have a visiting nurse once a month and a housekeeper.”
“But you manage the bulk of her day-to-day care, and you’re only sixteen.”
Kathleen felt her back go up. “So what? I can handle taking care of her. I’ve always taken care of her.”
Dr. Sanders held up her hand. “And you do a great job. But who takes care of you?”
“I—I don’t know what you mean.”
“Do you plan to go to college?”
“Sure. My grades are good.”
“Have you thought about where you’ll go?”
“Maybe Florida State. My friend Raina’s talked about going there, and we could room together—” Kathleen stopped herself midsentence as she was hit full force with an unspoken question: Who would take care of my mother if I went away? Why had she not thought of that before? She had wanted to attend college, with Raina, maybe Holly too. They’d talked about it, just the three of them, living together on campus for four years. Her cheeks flamed red and she looked away. “I can go to USF and live at home. It’s no big deal.”
Dr. Sanders said, “You know, we have a terrific MS support group here. The chapter affiliated with this hospital is one of the best…its members are very active and involved with one another. Has Mary Ellen ever attended a meeting?”
“While she was still working, before her MS got bad, she said she didn’t have the time to spare. Now she says she doesn’t want to be around a bunch of sick people. She thinks it would be discouraging.”
“Just the opposite,” the doctor said. “I try to encourage her to go when she comes in for checkups. Maybe if you encourage her…” She let the sentence trail.
“I don’t think she’ll do it.”
The doctor sighed. “It’s for both your sakes, you know. She needs to get outside of her little world. And you need to have the freedom to live your own life.”
“I do fine,” Kathleen said defensively. “We have routines. I’m a volunteer at the hospital this summer,” she added. This seemed to please Dr. Sanders, so Kathleen continued. “I didn’t want to at first, but Raina dragged me, and now I’m glad. I like the work. I’m thinking about doing it in the fall, for school credit.”
A knock on the door signaled that Mary Elle
n was dressed and ready to leave. Kathleen turned to go, but Dr. Sanders caught her arm. “If you ever feel overwhelmed, come see me. Being a caregiver is not an easy task.”
“She’s my mother,” Kathleen said.
“And you love her,” the doctor said. “But remember this: Sometimes the best kind of love is in letting go. It isn’t easy, but it’s often necessary for the patient and the family alike. Not desertion,” she added when Kathleen opened her mouth to protest. “But sometimes love must be tough. Try to get her to attend the MS support group. I promise you, it will be a help to both of you.”
* * *
Holly’s favorite volunteer job was any assignment on the pediatric floor. She loved being with the little kids, and it was soon obvious to everyone that they loved it when she came onto the floor. And it wasn’t only the kids who liked her. The nurses and social workers did too, and the head of the department requested Holly frequently.
“I always wanted a kid sister,” she confessed to one of the social workers when questioned about her aptitude for helping the little ones.
“Don’t you have a brother?”
“Hunter, but he’s older. I want someone I can bully around.”
The social worker laughed. “Do you even know how to bully someone?”
Holly giggled. “I could learn.”
In truth, she wanted a sibling so that she could be out of the family spotlight. If only her parents had another kid to “fix up” and make perfect, then perhaps she would have more freedom. She seemed to clash with them about one thing or another every few days. Her volunteer work at the hospital was the only thing she looked forward to and the only thing they agreed upon. Her parents gave high marks to volunteerism. In fact, her hospital volunteering was the only thing saving her from helping her mother with vacation Bible school and a long, boring week attending summer church camp.
“Camp’s cool,” Hunter told her.
They were doing KP duty one Sunday after dinner. Holly was putting away leftover food and Hunter was loading the dishwasher.
“Well, sure, if you want to bond with a bunch of girls,” she countered. “Now, if it were a co-ed camp …”
“You’d get into trouble,” Hunter said with a laugh.
“How do you stay out of trouble around here? What’s your secret?”
“I keep a low profile.”
“Very funny. And what about with Raina? How do you stay out of trouble with her?”
“I keep my mouth shut and bow and scrape a lot.”
Holly slapped him playfully. “Not that kind of trouble. The other kind. You know. Just-the-two-of-you-alone-in-the-dark kind of trouble.”
“We stay out of dark places.”
“Don’t you want to…you know … do the deed with her? I think she wants to with you.” She had a momentary qualm about revealing what Raina had once told her and Kathleen in confidence.
“Too much information,” Hunter said with a dip of his head and a reddening of his neck.
“You’re embarrassed. I’ve embarrassed you! Cool.” She grinned wickedly.
“Which is why Mom and Dad keep a lid on you. What if some guy tumbled for you and got you alone in the dark? What would you do?”
She made a production of thinking it over before saying, “I’d jump his bones.”
Hunter shook his head. “What am I going to do with you, little sister? Have some pride.”
“Okay, okay, I’m kidding. I’d be sweet and pure, even in the dark.”
Hunter studied her face. “It’s serious, you know. You just don’t give yourself away because some guy asks you to.”
Holly got self-conscious. “I said I was kidding.”
He resumed loading the dishwasher. “I love Raina. If… if we ever go that far, then I want it to be right. I’d want us to be married.”
Holly sobered because she knew that Hunter wasn’t kidding. He was dead serious and it wouldn’t be fair to make light of his feelings. “Are you saying you’re going to marry her?”
“Maybe someday.” Hunter looked over at his sister and grinned. “But don’t tell her. I want to surprise her.”
“Ha!” Holly said. “Where are you living? That girl’s already picked out her china pattern.”
Hunter looked startled.
Holly burst out laughing. “Gotcha!”
He turned the kitchen sink’s spray hose on her and she shrieked.
seven
“LISTEN UP. THERE’S going to be an ice cream social for Pediatrics, plus a fashion shoot over the July Fourth weekend.” Raina read the notice aloud to Holly and Kathleen from the bulletin board in the volunteer office. “The hospital’s asking for extra help. You two want to join me?”
“I’m on board,” Holly said. She was putting on lipstick before going to her assignment.
“A fashion shoot?” Kathleen came closer to read the notice herself. “What’s that about?”
“My mom said it’s something one of the department stores does every now and again. They bring in models and photographers and do a fashion layout for the Trendsetter section of the paper. This shoot is for the fall season.”
“But it’s only July.”
“Fashion and style work way far ahead.”
“But the hospital—?”
“Some people think the hospital is cool, Kathleen. The grounds are nice out by the little lake and the fountain and around the big banyan tree.”
Kathleen had to admit that the tree was spectacular. Its branches were really part of its root system. They grew downward and once they touched the ground became part of the trunk. The tree had been on the grounds some fifty years and was quite a landmark.
Holly peered over Kathleen’s shoulder. “Fall fashion…sounds like it would be fun to have a sneak preview. Might even be able to copy some of the new looks before school starts.”
Raina patted Holly’s head. “Our little fashion icon.”
Holly had a gift for making anything seem fashionable. Every year before school started, she pored over teen magazines and copied the looks she fancied. Sometimes her parents forbade her to wear her creations out of the house, but her friends had to admit that she was stylish.
“I just had a terrible thought,” Holly said, wrinkling her nose. “What if that nasty girl from Carson’s party is one of the models?”
This had been Kathleen’s first thought.
“What are the odds?” Raina said, dismissing the notion. She turned to Kathleen. “I’ve never seen Carson since his party, have you?”
“I haven’t looked,” Kathleen said, her face turning red immediately. She’d always been a lousy liar.
Connie Vasquez came over to the bulletin board. “You three thinking about helping out at the social?”
“Sure, we’ll sign up.” Raina spoke for herself and her friends.
“Good. Holidays mean we run a leaner staff.”
“Can I ask you something?” Raina didn’t wait for an answer before plunging ahead. “Whatever happened to that Carson Kiefer guy? We never see his name on the sign-up sheets.”
Kathleen could have cheerfully strangled her friend.
Connie shook her head. “That boy … he got into trouble concerning some party at his house. His parents hit the roof and sent him off to visit his grandparents. Evidently they live far from civilization, out on a farm in Tennessee, way out in the boonies. Why do you ask?”
Raina flashed an innocent smile. “We’re just curious. So he won’t be coming back?”
“I didn’t say that. His father pressured Mark Powell to reinstate Carson into the program. Mark didn’t really want to, but both Dr. Kiefers have clout here at the hospital and so he agreed so long as Carson isn’t handling patient care. Frankly, just between us girls, I like the kid,” Connie said. “He’s intelligent, personable and downright charming. I just wish he could get his act together.”
Raina wrote her name on the assignment sheet. “Well, I’m off.”
Holly and Kathleen followe
d suit, although Kathleen shot daggers at Raina, who ignored her.
Connie said, “I wish I had others as loyal as you three. Many kids come into the program, but not everyone sticks with it the way you all have. We give out special recognition at the awards banquet in August.” She grinned. “I’m talking real gold plastic here. All of you might have one in your futures.”
The girls laughed. Raina and Holly walked toward the elevators and the upper floors. Kathleen headed off for the admissions office, where she felt safe and sheltered shuffling papers and working on computer files. Where she could do a quiet reality check about one Carson Kiefer—the guy she hated to like.
Raina met her mother, Vicki, in the hospital cafeteria that evening for dinner. “Sorry we have to have dinner this way,” Vicki said as soon as they sat down with their food trays. “I have a ton of paperwork on my desk and I’ve got to catch up.”
“No problem,” Raina said, shuffling her food dishes off the tray. “I didn’t want to eat alone at the house, and besides, this way I get to be with my favorite mother.”
“Should I be flattered since I’m your only mother?”
Raina smiled. “Really, I like it here. Something’s always happening.”
“Now, don’t you get sucked into this lifestyle.”
“Why not? You like it…deep down. True?”
Vicki sighed. “Yes, I really love nursing. Except these days I’ve turned into a paper pusher. I get so sick of budget talks, staff shortages and scheduling dilemmas. I miss the good old days of actually taking care of patients. Which, if memory serves, is why I went into nursing in the first place.”
Raina knew her mother’s gripes were just because she was tired. She had worked hard and diligently to be where she was now—head of the nursing staff. “But you run the whole show. You’re the boss.”
“Sometimes it’s more fun being a performer than the ringmaster.”
“Are you telling me this place is a circus?”
“More like a zoo, I think.” They laughed together. Vicki took a few bites before asking, “You like being a volunteer, don’t you?”
“I love it.” Raina laid down her fork. “Mom, I want to be a nurse too.”