“You can’t drop out of school!” she cried, horrified.
“I can test out. I’m smart, remember?” He gave a rueful smile. “At least that’s what the judge told me.”
“But it’s your senior year!”
“The only reason I hung around in high school at all was because of you, Jessie. I looked forward to that English class with you. Just seeing you in the halls and the cafeteria perked up my day. Don’t you see? You were the only thing that kept me in high school in the first place.”
“What about the prom and graduation ceremony?”
“You didn’t go to your prom.”
“And you know why.”
He brushed it off. “And as for graduating, I can get into college without a high-school diploma if I test high enough. In fact, I plan to graduate from college without a high-school diploma.” He grinned. “Others have done it, so can I.”
She didn’t like it. She felt responsible for the course his life was taking. If it weren’t for her, he’d be living at home, at peace with his parents, planning to return to high school. He wouldn’t be embroiled in a tedious legal dispute. “If it weren’t for me—,” she began.
He silenced her with a quick kiss. “If it weren’t for you, I’d never have known what it feels like to love somebody the way I love you.”
She knew his words were supposed to make her feel better, but they didn’t. They made her feel guilty, and responsible for his choices. She wanted to release him from the debt he seemed to think he owed her. She told herself that once she returned home, she’d think of a way to set Jeremy free.
It was late when Jeremy returned to Jake’s. The TV was on, and Jake was watching a news program. “You’re on my bed,” Jeremy said. “And I’m whipped.”
Jake asked, “How’s Jessica?”
Jeremy told him, including the depression he sensed she was experiencing. He dropped onto the sofa and rubbed his neck. “Anyway, I gave her a pep talk, but I’m not sure it registered.”
Jake pushed the Mute button on the TV remote. “I’m sorry about the way things went today. Fran and I feel responsible for the defeat.”
“It was a calculated risk. We all knew that. My father’s got legal experience, and worse, he’s got time on his side.”
Jake looked at him, and Jeremy could tell he was holding something back. “What’s up?”
Jake grinned. “So much for a poker face, huh? Guess I’ll have to do better if I ever get to go in front of a jury.”
Jeremy watched him fidget, and a sudden stab of fear made him blurt, “You’re not planning on quitting on me, are you?”
“No, nothing like that. But something has come up. Your father called earlier this evening. He wants a meeting with you, Jeremy. He wants to talk to you face-to-face.”
Chapter
16
“He wants a meeting—why? To gloat?”
Jeremy headed into the kitchen, and Jake followed him.
“I don’t think his motive is gloating. I think he just wants to talk to you.”
“We’ve already said all there is to say.” Jeremy jerked open the refrigerator door and rummaged through the shelves. He wasn’t hungry, only restless and agitated.
“He asked me if we were going to appeal today’s decision and I told him we were.”
“So, did he bite your head off because you’re helping me?”
“No. But he and I both know what we’re up against in the system.”
Jeremy slammed the refrigerator door. “Don’t tell me our lousy odds, Jake. I hate hearing the odds.”
Jake caught his arm. “Jeremy, I think you should meet with your father.”
“I don’t.”
“Listen to me. I’m your attorney and I’m advising you to sit down and talk to him again. Perhaps we can settle this case without going to court.”
Jeremy boosted himself up onto the counter-top and stared glumly at the floor. “He’ll only drop his case if I give up my suit. And I’ll only give up if he lets me do what I want. I’m telling you, Jake, he’s not going to quit. You don’t know my father. For him, winning is everything.”
“One of the first rules of practicing law is to avoid litigation whenever possible,” Jake said earnestly. “As your attorney, I’m advising you to see your father. I can arrange for the meeting in neutral territory—one of the conference rooms at Georgetown, for instance. I’ll hang around in the hall during the meeting. And if the two of you come to blows, I’ll run inside and throw myself between you.” He grinned, and Jeremy returned a halfhearted smile.
“All right. But not until after Jessica’s surgery. And not until she’s out of the hospital and back into her everyday routine. I want to be there for her. She comes first.”
Her surgery went well, and in a couple of days Jessica returned home. This time the external shunt was on her leg, capped off but accessible to the nurses in the dialysis unit. Dr. Witherspoon told her, “You’re doing fine,” but he prescribed a mild mood-elevating medication to combat her depression.
At home, Jessica lined up on her dresser the bottles of medications she took daily. The bottles stood like little brown soldiers awaiting their missions, from phosphate and potassium binders to calcium and iron supplements, plus numerous others to keep her body up and running. She remembered the days when her dresser had held bottles of perfume and makeup. Now those had been relegated to a drawer.
The phone rang and she answered it. Jeremy said, “How about a movie tonight?”
“Yes,” she told him. She wanted to escape from her dreary everyday life, if only for a few hours. “I need to go out and do something normal.”
The theater was packed, and the smell of buttered popcorn made her mouth water. Her snack consisted of a measured amount of jelly beans and a diet soda. Jeremy stuck to snacking on hard candy and soda—in deference to her, she figured.
Afterward they went to a nearby coffee shop and ordered specialty coffees. “I’d kill for some french fries,” she said with a sigh. “I thought I was going to have to ask the guy sitting next to me with his bucket of popcorn to move. The smell was making me crazy.”
“Once you get your transplant, you can pig out on french fries and popcorn too.”
“Sounds heavenly to me.” They rarely discussed the actual transplant anymore because it was too depressing.
“I’ve agreed to see my father this Friday,” Jeremy said quietly.
“You have? But that’s good. You shouldn’t be estranged from him.”
“I’m doing it for two reasons: Jake wants me to, and I know you do too.”
She stirred her coffee, watching Jeremy’s face. “What do you think he wants?”
“Probably wants to offer me a deal, his kidney for mine,” he said sardonically.
She giggled. “Maybe he just wants to kiss and make up.”
“He knows how he can make up with me.”
She leaned back and propped her feet up on another chair. Sitting for so long in the movie had caused her legs and feet to swell. Her shoes felt tight, but she was afraid to take them off; she might not be able to get them back on. “Did I tell you that I persuaded my mom to go back to her Head Start job? She was planning on not returning this school year, but I told her I wanted her to work. She gets too preoccupied with my kidney problem and drives me nuts with her hovering. I have to take over someday.” She paused. “I’m thinking of getting my own apartment, Jeremy.”
He sat up straight. “When?”
“As soon as I can. I need to be out on my own.”
“Then why not go to college? You can live in the dorm if you don’t want to live at home.”
“I’m not ready yet. Maybe in January, like you suggested. But right now I want to learn how to cope on my own. This is my kidney problem. Not my parents’. Not yours.”
He looked hurt. “I didn’t mean to make you feel as if I was taking it over.”
“I know you care. But things should never have gone this far. You at war wit
h your family. You living with a stranger. You dropping out of high school. Things have simply gotten out of hand, and I feel like it’s my fault.”
He opened his mouth to protest.
“Let me finish,” she told him. “I’ve been wanting to say this for weeks. I think you should drop your emancipation suit, Jeremy.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“Because you need my kidney.”
She shook her head. “I need a transplant. I would like to have your kidney.”
“It makes no sense to me that you shouldn’t have my kidney.”
“Let’s not argue. All I’m trying to say is that I need to handle my own problems. If your father offers you an olive branch on Friday, take it.”
His lips pressed into a thin line of stubbornness. She reached out and took his hand. “Make peace with your father. Don’t turn this suit into a contest of wills. Because if you do, no matter how it turns out, no matter what a judge rules, both you and your father will be losers.”
On Friday Jeremy dressed with care. He didn’t want to go to the meeting looking or feeling like a kid. When he walked into the living room of the apartment, Jake looked up from his seat on the sofa. “Not bad, Jeremy. Is that my silk dress shirt?”
Jeremy grinned sheepishly. “And your silk tie. Your stuff goes pretty good with my blue suit, don’t you agree?”
Jake grinned back. “No contest. Don’t get it messed up.”
“Not to worry. I promised Jessica I’d try to bury the hatchet.”
“Just don’t bury it in your father.”
Jeremy groaned at Jake’s bad joke. It wasn’t going to be easy to face his father, especially after their day in court two weeks before.
He had a stomach full of butterflies as he and Jake drove to the campus. Jeremy glanced at his watch and thought about Jessica. She’d be almost through with her dialysis treatment by now. In his mind’s eye he saw the treatment center, the rows of recliners, the small dialysis machines, the many patients. He felt a pang of regret. More than anything, he’d wanted to change things for her, to free her from the machine and make her life better. All he’d succeeded in doing was to bring more tension into her life.
Jake interrupted his thoughts. “It’s best to take your cue from your father. If he wants to be belligerent and antagonistic, get out of the room. I’ll step in and tell him that our next stop is federal court. Fran is writing a new brief as we speak.”
“Good. I still don’t want to give up.”
“Just don’t go into the room with any preconceived ideas,” Jake counseled. “Anything can happen, Jeremy. Anything.”
Jessica left the dialysis unit feeling better than she had in weeks. It was early September, and she thought back to the previous Labor Day. Her parents had taken two rooms at an oceanfront hotel in Virginia Beach, and they’d had a wonderful time. Jeremy had driven down, and together they’d swum in the cool Atlantic water, walked the beach at night hand in hand, and danced at a small bistro that catered to the teen crowd.
She smiled at the memory. Even though she’d been experiencing some signs of kidney failure, she’d ignored them and had had one of the best times of her life. Who knew? she asked herself. What a difference a year made!
She slid behind the wheel of the car and turned on the air-conditioning to cool the steamy interior. This whole summer had slipped past, and Jessica had few good memories. Enviously she thought about her friends who’d gone to the beach in Florida. Maybe next summer, if she was still on dialysis, she could locate a dialysis center near the shore and take her treatments and spend time at the beach.
On a whim, she checked the car’s glove compartment and found a map of Virginia. Eagerly she traced a line with her finger from Washington to Virginia Beach. It was expressway all the way. And according to the legend at the top of the map, it was only two hundred miles to Virginia Beach.
Suddenly she was seized with an intense longing to see the ocean, smell the salt air, walk barefoot in the rolling surf. She looked at the clock on the dashboard. It was just barely noon. She’d been going for dialysis early on Fridays during the summer in order to have a long weekend. So why not take advantage of it? If she left now, she could make it to the beach in three hours. She could visit the ocean, eat dinner on the pier, watch the moon rise and still be home before eleven.
Jessica felt a tingle of excitement. Why not? Her parents weren’t scheduled to be home until six tonight. She could call them from the pier and tell them what she was doing. No way could she call before she left; they’d be adamant that she not make the trip. If she waited until later, there’d be nothing they could say except “Come home now!”
If only Jeremy could go with her … but he was about to meet with his father. She grinned and, feeling like a child playing hooky, eased the car into traffic and drove toward the expressway and Virginia Beach. She headed toward the ocean and a few precious hours of freedom.
Chapter
17
“How are you, son?”
Jeremy stood awkwardly in the small conference room, looking at his father’s lined face, unsure whether he should shake his hand. Frank Travino looked tired and thinner than he had when Jeremy had moved out.
“I’m doing fine,” Jeremy answered, then crossed to the oval conference table and took a seat. “How’s Mom?”
His father sat across from him. “Physically, she’s fine, but emotionally …” His voice trailed off.
Jeremy gritted his teeth, not wanting to rise to the bait. “This has been hard on all of us emotionally,” he said. “I never intended to hurt anybody—especially Mom.”
“She—um—she wanted me to tell you that she misses you and to ask you to please come home.”
“I don’t think I can do that yet.”
“I want you to come home too. We both miss you.”
Jeremy knew the admission wasn’t easy for his father, but he also knew he couldn’t give in to emotional blackmail. “Jessica still needs my kidney,” he said quietly.
“You lost in court.”
“I lost in one court. There are others.”
“Yes, your attorney told me you will appeal.”
Jeremy nodded, not wanting to reveal any more information than necessary. He knew enough to let Jake handle any legal discussion of the case.
“You’ll lose again,” his father said matter-of-factly.
Jeremy felt his anger rising. “If I do, I’ll try again.”
“The process can take a long time.”
He was telling Jeremy much the same thing Jessica had. But coming from her, it hadn’t sounded so threatening.
“Is that what you’re hoping? That the process will take so long that Jessica will die?”
“Of course not—”
“Or that her doctors will find another donor?” he added, interrupting his father.
“Would that bother you? Would it matter if she ended up with another person’s kidney?”
“Why should it matter? Just so long as she’s okay.”
His father drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “Because then you couldn’t be the hero.”
Shocked, Jeremy bolted to his feet. “Is that what you think I’m trying to be? A hero? Let me explain it to you one more time—in case you don’t remember.” He felt hot. “Jessica doesn’t tolerate dialysis very well. She needs a transplant. No one in her family can be a donor. She’s not a candidate for a cadaver kidney. I was willing to be a noncompatible donor, but wonder of wonders, the tests showed me to be a good match. Therefore, she has less of a chance of rejecting my kidney. Which means that she can return to a more normal life. Go to college. Get a job. Maybe even grow old.”
His father rose too. “Calm down. I didn’t come here to fight with you. Can’t you sit down and listen to what I came to say?”
Jeremy didn’t want to calm down. He wanted to get out of the room and slam the door behind him. But he kept hearing Jessica’s voice telling him t
o make peace. And Jake’s plea to hear his father out and avoid litigation if possible. But if he gave in now, it would be as if he were a little kid heeding Dad’s decree. Still standing, he asked, “So why did you come?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“You saw me in Judge Monsanto’s office.”
“And you never even spoke to me.” His father sounded wounded.
“I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t very well have congratulated you on winning, now could I?” He shook his head in disgust. “That’s all you ever care about anyway—winning. It’s the most important thing. The only thing.”
“No!” his father said sharply. “This isn’t about winning.” Jeremy saw that tears had Sprung to his father’s eyes. He waited while his father reined in his emotions. “It’s about losing, Jeremy. It’s about losing you.”
Slowly Jeremy sat down.
His father continued, “I’ve already lost one son. I can’t lose another.”
“Tom,” Jeremy whispered.
“He was alive. Then in an instant he was dead. Nothing in all my years of living prepared me for that. I only know I can’t go through it again.”
“I’m not going to die, Dad.”
“I know it’s an irrational fear,” his father said, raking his hand through his hair. “I know that thousands of people undergo surgery every day and come out just fine. I know that in my head. But in my heart—” He shook his head. “I can’t stand to think about you dying on the table. Or suffering irreversible damage. Of you ending up like Tom. And if any of those things happened, I would be responsible because I agreed to let you do it. In short, it would be my fault if something bad happened to you.”
Stunned by the fervor in his father’s voice, astounded by the scenario his fears had written, Jeremy found it difficult to respond. Finally he said, “I’m not Tom.”
“That’s what the psychiatrist at the hospital told me.”
“You spoke to her? When? Why?”