“Grams,” Marlee said, brightening. “This is my friend Dawn—you know, from camp?”
“Emily Hodges,” the older woman said while offering a tired-looking smile. Something about her expression warned Dawn that she was upset. She’d seen her own parents’ faces wearing the same look.
“Can I go home?” Marlee asked.
“Not yet. Dr. Davis wants to run some more tests.”
“But I want to go home.”
“I’m having a specialist flown in to check you over,” Grandmother Hodges told her. “She’ll be here Monday morning.”
“But I already have a bunch of doctors.”
“This woman is one of the best in her field.”
“What’s she going to do?”
“Just consult.”
“I don’t want any more operations.”
Grandmother Hodges leaned heavily on her cane. “The doctors make these decisions, not me, dear.”
“Grams, please don’t let them cut on me anymore.” Marlee sounded close to crying.
Grandmother Hodges’s voice sounded quivery as she said, “Now, now, Marlee . . . we have to do what the doctors recommend.”
“That’s why you’re having another specialist come in, isn’t it? They want to cut on me again! What do they want to take out now? My stomach?”
“Please, dear. I–I can’t bear to see you this upset.” Marlee’s grandmother looked so stricken that Dawn wondered if she should call a nurse.
Marlee must have seen it, too, because she hastily said, “It’s all right, Grams. Don’t get worked up. I’ll be okay.”
“I’m sorry I can’t spend more time with you, dear. I feel poorly still and my doctor wants me in bed today.” She reached for the call button. “I’ll have one of the nurses come stay with you.”
“That’s okay. I’ll stay with her.” The words were out of Dawn’s mouth before she could stop them.
Grandmother Hodges turned toward Dawn, as if surprised that she was still in the room. “That’s very thoughtful of you. I hate to leave my poor Marlee alone, but I’m not well myself. If I’m feeling better later, I’ll come again this evening.”
“Don’t worry,” Dawn insisted. “We’ll play some board games, watch some TV. We’ll have a good time.”
“You wouldn’t mind staying?” Marlee asked, her expression both frightened and hopeful.
“I’ll just call home and tell my brother to pick me up around six.” Silently, she added, And call Rhonda and let her know I won’t be at work today.
“I–I’d really like that. You sure it’s no problem for you?”
“Nope,” Dawn said crossing her fingers behind her back. “No problem at all.”
Fourteen
DAWN and Marlee played Monopoly most of the afternoon, and Dawn learned more about Marlee Hodges in those few hours than she had during the entire week at camp. She learned that Marlee was smart—into the stratosphere smart. She told Dawn, “They wanted me to skip third and fifth grades, but Grams thought it best that I go ahead and go through fifth grade. What a drag that was.”
“So you’re starting eighth grade this year?”
“Yeah.” She named one of the area’s most exclusive private schools. “I hope it’s better than my old one.”
“How?”
“I hope the kids are nicer to me.”
“Are you nice to them?”
Marlee jutted her chin. “Of course.”
“Come on, be honest.”
“Well, I try to be, but everybody’s always mean to me.”
“Like how?”
“They’re just not nice, that’s all. Last year, my teacher assigned a group project that I could have done in my sleep, and everybody was so slow about it. And I got in a big fight with them, and then they all hated me.” Marlee crossed her arms and flopped back against the pillow. “Nobody understands me.”
“I understand you, and I don’t hate you,” Dawn told her.
“You’re different.”
“No, I’m not. It’s just that when a person acts friendly, it’s easier to like her.”
“Are you saying that I’m unfriendly?”
“Hey, I’m the girl you tried to throw out of her bed at camp, remember? I’d call that pretty unfriendly.”
A sheepish smile appeared on Marlee’s mouth. “I don’t know why I did that,” she admitted. “I didn’t want to come to camp in the first place, and when I walked in the cabin and saw all those welcome signs and flowers, well . . . I hated being there even more.”
“I know.” Dawn’s tone turned matter-of-fact. “You were scared, that’s all.”
“I wasn’t scared—I didn’t want to go.”
Dawn studied Marlee intently. “We’re all scared, Marlee. I didn’t want to go to camp my first time either. I didn’t want to be away from my doctor and my folks. I was afraid I’d get sick and embarrass myself in front of all these strangers. The only reason I went is because my friend Sandy said she’d go.”
Marlee wadded the bed linen into her fists, upsetting the Monopoly board. She whispered, “You’re right. I was scared. Just like I’m scared right now. I don’t want any more operations.”
“I hope you don’t have to have any more.”
“Will you keep coming to visit with me until I can go home?”
Marlee’s question made Dawn’s stomach muscles tighten. She disliked the idea of having to come up to the oncology floor on a regular basis. It made her anxious to even think about what Marlee was facing. But when she looked at Marlee and saw the fear and loneliness on her face, she reached out and squeezed Marlee’s arm and said, “I’ll come as often as I can. I promise.”
The next day, Dawn breezed into Marlee’s room holding a large brown paper sack. “How’s it going?”
Marlee looked pale, but when she saw Dawn, she sat straighter in bed and smiled. “I’m still having trouble keeping food down.” She held up her arm with the IV tube running to a plastic bag hanging from the IV stand. “They tell me this stuff’s my dinner, but it sure doesn’t taste much like hamburgers and milkshakes.”
“I know it’s a drag, but hang in there,” Dawn told her as she looked around the room. There were several large bouquets and baskets on the windowsill. Cascades of summer blossoms shimmered in the rays of the afternoon sun. “Wow, I love your flowers.”
“The roses are from Grams, and the others are from some of her friends.” It struck Dawn that there was nothing from Marlee’s friends. When she’d been in the hospital, Rhonda had organized a card-writing campaign, and Dawn had been flooded with cards and gifts.
Dawn touched the velvet pink rose petals. “I love roses.”
“They’re okay.” Marlee said.
Dawn turned back to the bed and on the bedside table saw a silver picture frame.
“Hey, it’s the camp photo!”
“I had Grams bring it last night.”
Dawn picked up the shiny frame, recalling the day by the lake. In the front row, boys were making faces and waving. The familiar grins of the girls in her cabin looked out from one side of the group and far in the back row, she saw Marlee standing stiffly next to Brent. “I thought you hated camp.”
“Just at first. I’ll, uh, probably go back next year.”
“Really?” Dawn gave her a look that was filled with mischief, and Marlee blushed. “Maybe we should send out warning letters: ‘Beware! Marlee’s back.’”
“Don’t tease me.” But Marlee wore a satisfied grin even as she spoke. “What’s in the bag?” she asked, pointing to the sack Dawn still held.
“Oh, nothing much.” Dawn felt self-conscious. After seeing all the beautiful flowers, she realized how stupid her gift would probably seem.
“Let me see.” Marlee looked animated as she grabbed the sack and opened it up. She reached inside and pulled out Mr. Ruggers. “Hey, it’s your teddy bear.”
Dawn felt her neck and cheeks grow warm with color. “I know he’s scruffy-looking, but he’s a
good friend. He went through everything with me—my first stay in the hospital, my transplant. I just thought you might like to have him around.” She added hastily, “It’s all right if you don’t. You won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t want me to leave him.”
“You’d let me keep him?”
“Just until you go home. And only if you really want to keep him.”
“Thanks,” Marlee answered with a smile. “I’d love to have him with me.” She tried to straighten his permanently flopped ear. “I’ll keep him here in bed with me.”
They watched a sappy movie on TV and played cards. When Grandmother Hodges arrived after supper, Dawn went to the lobby to wait for Rob to come get her. Dawn worked extra hours at the ice cream parlor Monday afternoon and listened to Rhonda scold her for skipping out on Saturday.
“My uncle was steamed, but I covered for you,” Rhonda insisted. Dawn thanked her and kept busy, grateful for the activity. It kept her mind off Marlee and the upcoming consultation with the new doctor.
When Dawn arrived that evening, Marlee was sitting up in bed, sorting through a stack of novels. “Come in,” Marlee cried, with a smile that lit up her thin face.
“You must have had good news.”
“The best. Dr. Dillard—the special one Grams had brought in on my case—reviewed all my x-rays and tests today. And guess what?”
“You’re really made of cotton candy inside?”
“No, silly. I don’t have to have any more operations!”
“Oh, Marlee, that’s super news! So does that mean you can go home?”
A frown formed on Marlee’s forehead. “No. That’s the only part that’s not good.”
The information puzzled Dawn, too. “Why can’t you leave?”
“Dr. Dillard says that there’s a tumor on my stomach. But since I’ve already had two operations, she won’t operate again. Honestly, Dawn,” Marlee said, leaning forward as if delivering gossip, “surgery is a drag. It takes forever to get over it.”
“No surgery. So now what?”
Marlee flopped back against her pillow. “The usual—radiation.”
“No chemo?”
“Not this time.”
“Then what’s that machine doing?”
Dawn pointed to a small mechanical box on a cart parked beside Marlee’s bed. A line ran from it to a vein in her arm.
“That’s a morphine infusion pump,” explained Marlee. “It’s for the pain. When it gets really bad, I can adjust this control—” she pointed, “and presto—instant relief. Boy! Does it ever work.” She rolled her eyes. “I feel good enough to go off the high dive.”
“I could never feel that good,” Dawn kidded, and they both laughed.
“So you’ll be here for a while,” Dawn stated.
“I guess. They’re just going to be rolling me down to radiology a couple times a week to shrink this thing. And once it’s shrunk, then I can go home.”
“Is that what they told you?”
“Not exactly.”
For some reason, Dawn felt a coldness creeping up her spine. “Well, what exactly did they tell you?”
“Just about the radiation. I figured the rest out by myself.”
“But for right now, you’re just a guest of the hospital?”
Marlee sighed and made a face. “Yeah. Much as I don’t want to be. Besides, it’s easier on Grams this way. But you’ll keep coming to visit me, won’t you?”
Marlee looked so eager and hopeful that Dawn didn’t have the heart to tell her no. “I’ll play you a game of Monopoly,” Dawn said dragging a chair over.
While Marlee arranged the game board, Dawn thought about all that Marlee had told her. She wasn’t positive she understood the business about “just radiation” for Marlee’s cancer. She made a mental note to have a talk with Katie. If anyone could explain it to her, Katie could.
Fifteen
WHEN Rob brought Katie to the house for dinner two nights later, Dawn asked her about Marlee’s treatment. She, Katie, and Rob were in the backyard gazebo eating watermelon, after Mrs. Rochelle had insisted that she and Mr. Rochelle could clean up the kitchen. As the three of them watched the sunset, Dawn broached the subject. “I’m just not clear on why a doctor wouldn’t operate on a tumor,” she said.
Katie didn’t answer right away. Dawn studied her for some hint of what she was thinking, but her expression was impassive. Finally Katie said, “Honey, I really can’t discuss the specifics of any case with you. It isn’t ethical.”
“Well, forget it’s Marlee. Let’s just say it’s anybody. Why not operate?”
Katie sighed. “There are lots of reasons doctors make the choices they do. Surgery is always risky. No doctor should put a patient through it unnecessarily.”
“But she—I mean, suppose a patient— has already been through it twice. Why not again?” Dawn asked.
“Sometimes chemo and radiation can do the trick.”
“Marlee’s had both before. Now, a tumor’s back. I remember when I had a relapse, the doctors suggested a bone marrow transplant.”
“You had a different type of cancer. A marrow transplant is effective in treating leukemia, but not others.”
Dawn felt she wasn’t getting any real answers. Exasperated, she blurted, “Is Marlee going to get well?”
Katie set her slice of watermelon onto the wooden steps and wiped her hands on her napkin. “I thought this was supposed to be a general conversation and not about Marlee’s case in particular?”
“You two aren’t arguing, are you?” Rob asked, glancing from one to the other. “I couldn’t stand having my two favorite women fighting with each other.”
Instantly, Dawn felt ashamed. “I’m sorry, Katie.”
“Oh, Dawn, I’m sorry, too—sorry that I can’t tell you what you want to hear.”
Even though it was difficult to make out Katie’s features in the gathering twilight, Dawn could sense the tension and uneasiness in her voice and posture. “I shouldn’t have pressed you. But how can I find out? Who will talk to me?”
Katie sighed. “Marlee’s grandmother is the only one, really, at liberty to discuss Marlee. It’s up to her.”
“But I hardly know her.”
Katie reached over and flipped Dawn’s hair on her shoulder in a gesture of tenderness. “I wish I could be more of a help to you, honey, but I can’t. I just can’t.”
* * * *
“Dawn? Is that you? What’s up?”
She’d spent an hour deciding whether or not to call Brent. Now that she heard his voice on the phone, she felt a rush of relief. “I–I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“Never. I was under my car trying to fix something that’s leaking.” He paused. “Are you all right?”
“Oh, sure. I’m fine.” She sat on her bed. The lamp on her bedside table cast a warm yellow glow over the new bedspread she’d bought for herself.
“So you just called to hear my voice?” His familiar Southern drawl made her feel relaxed and calmer.
“It’s not me—it’s Marlee.”
“I got your letter saying she was in the hospital. Has something happened?”
“I’m not sure,” Dawn twisted the phone cord around her finger. “She’s still in the hospital, but I’m not sure what’s going on.” She let her frustration and concern spill out in a flood of words. “I just wish I had been able to sit in on the consultation with the specialist, then maybe I could understand things better.”
“Why?” He asked. “Why do you want to know?”
For a moment, she couldn’t answer. Why did she want to know? What business was it of hers? “I guess because she’s my friend.”
“You were her camp counselor, and you felt sorry for her, and you showed her a good time in spite of herself. But I never remember you telling me Marlee was your friend. Have you two gotten real close since she’s been in the hospital?”
Brent was asking a hard question, and she was at a loss to answer it. Rhonda was her
friend and there were others from school. Where did Marlee fit into her life?
“I have lots of friends,” Dawn blurted. “Can’t I have lots of friends?”
“There’s nothing wrong with having friends,” Brent said cheerfully. “I was just asking if something had changed between you and Marlee.”
“I understand her better now.” She told him some of Marlee’s background. “I mean, can you imagine being the only kid in a house with a really sick grandmother all your life? She grew up awfully lonesome. She’s never made friends easily. And now . . . well now, it doesn’t seem like a whole lot’s being done about her cancer.”
Dawn felt her voice grow quivery, but she continued, “When I found out about my relapse, I got to be a part of deciding about the bone marrow transplant. All they’re doing for Marlee is some radiation and pumping her full of morphine.”
“Is that bad?” Brent wanted to know.
“It just seems weird to me. If all they’re going to do is radiate her, she could do it on an outpatient basis. Why does she have to stay in the hospital?”
“If her grandmother’s old and sick, maybe she can’t take care of her at home.”
Brent’s simple observation made sense and she wondered why she hadn’t thought of it. “Could that be all there is to it?”
“You can’t second-guess her doctors,” Brent said. “If you really want to know, you’ll have to talk to her grandmother.”
“Maybe I’ll have to.” They talked a few more minutes, and Dawn hung up with a promise to keep him informed. She paced the floor of her room. It was late, but she wasn’t sleepy. Questions and emotions kept whirling through her like a summer storm.
Why was she so entangled in Marlee’s illness? Especially when she’d once told Rob that she didn’t want friends who had cancer. But Brent was right. Marlee and she weren’t really and truly friends. Sandy had been her friend. Her best friend. The unbidden memory of Brent’s sister sneaked into her mind. Go away! she told the image. She didn’t want to think about Sandy now. She wanted to figure out what to do about Marlee.