Starry, Starry Night

by Lurlene McDaniel

  “Yes, Mom. It’ll be fine.” Brenda was in her room, putting the finishing touches on her makeup. Now that everything had been arranged, she was resigned to going out with Doug. His parents had gone to a lot of trouble to make the evening special, and she didn’t want to act like a brat about dating someone she hardly knew.

  “I hope Doug isn’t disappointed,” Brenda said, running a brush through her long, shiny blond hair. “I’m not some superstar or anything.”

  “Well, you look lovely. I’m sure he won’t be disappointed.”

  However, Brenda was disappointed about something she couldn’t even mention to her mother. Matt had had her phone number for a week and he’d never called. Nor had he stopped by the yogurt booth that day. She’d looked for him until quitting time, but he’d never showed. So she’d come straight home and dressed for her date, determined to put Matt out of her mind and concentrate on having a good time with Doug. Doug was a stranger, but he seemed to care more about her than Matt did. How hard was it to pick up a phone?

  “He’s here!” Howie’s shout echoed up the stairs. “And he’s in a car as long as our driveway!”

  “What?” Brenda hurried to the window and peeked through the blinds. A gleaming white limousine sat by the curb. “A limo?” She groaned inwardly. What was Doug thinking? You didn’t pick a girl up in a stretch limo for a casual date.

  “He certainly does things in a grand style,” her mother said, peering over Brenda’s shoulder.

  “I hope none of my friends see me.”

  Mrs. Scolari smoothed Brenda’s hair. “Who cares what anybody thinks? Go have fun.”

  Brenda took a deep breath to calm the butterflies in her stomach, and headed for the stairs.

  Four

  At the foot of the stairs, Brenda paused. Her father and Howie stood talking to Doug, who was dressed in a white dinner jacket. She was grateful that for once she’d listened to her mother and worn a nice dress.

  Doug looked up at her. “Wow. You look beautiful.”

  After small talk with her parents, Brenda walked with Doug to the curb, where the white stretch limousine waited. A uniformed chauffeur opened the car door for them. “I’d have been happy with a Ford,” she joked.

  “My dad’s idea.” Doug shrugged. “I agreed because I wasn’t sure I’d ever get another opportunity to go out this way. And especially with you.”

  She realized this date probably wasn’t easy for him, either. After all, regardless of his interest in her, they were strangers. His parents had coaxed them into this. “I’ll suffer.” She climbed inside the luxurious car.

  The chauffeur shut the door. “But just so you’ll know,” Doug said, “I planned the date. Everything we do tonight is what I want to do with you. Where I want to take you. They left all that up to me.”

  The intensity in his voice touched her. They sat in an awkward silence, and Brenda realized it was going to be a very long night if they didn’t start talking. “So—” they said in unison, then burst out laughing.

  “You first,” Doug said.

  “In the article Paul showed me, it said you couldn’t go to school, but that you wanted to.”

  “I’m in the homebound program.”

  “What’s it like?”

  “Lonely. But I get a lot of work done. That’s how I’ve been able to stay on grade level in spite of all my hospital time. But I’d still rather be attending classes every day.”

  She wondered why he was even trying to keep up with his studies, given his prognosis, but didn’t know how to ask.

  “You want to know why, don’t you?”

  Had Doug read her mind? Brenda flushed, grateful for the semidarkness of the car. “I guess I do.”

  “Attending classes is a sort of measure of normalcy for me. I’ve been in and out of hospitals, doctors’ offices, and treatment protocols ever since I was thirteen. I have a network of friends in those places. We e-mail to stay in touch, but there’s nothing like the real world to make you feel like a regular person. And sometimes feeling regular is the best medicine of all.”

  She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be stuck in hospitals. “My grandfather was sick when I was younger. I—I don’t have good memories.”

  “Most people are put off by illness. I don’t blame them. I’ve been fighting leukemia for so long that sometimes I forget that the rest of the world isn’t. I’ve read everything I can about my kind of leukemia.” He gave a humorless laugh. “I could probably pass a medical exam on it.”

  Doug took her to a restaurant atop one of the highest buildings in downtown Atlanta. The room was circular, with floor-to-ceiling windows, and below, city lights shimmered in all directions. Their table for two was set with pale-blue linen, ivory-colored tapers, and plates trimmed in gold. A single pink rose in a crystal bud vase stood between the candles. “This is beautiful,” she said.

  “I read in a magazine once about all the rich and famous people who’ve eaten here. I’ve always wanted to come, but not by myself. I wanted to bring someone special. I just never dreamed it would be you.”

  Flustered, Brenda buried her nose in her menu. Fleetingly she wondered what it would be like to be here with Matt, then scolded herself for thinking about him instead of Doug.

  They ate wonderful food while a strolling violinist played. Brenda felt as if she had entered a fairy tale. How far this was from her life in high school! She was glad she’d agreed to the date. Not just because of the restaurant and limo, but because Doug was likable, outgoing, fun to be with. She knew already that she could never like him in the same way he liked her. But right now, sitting among the stars, it didn’t matter.

  Once the meal was over and they were riding the express elevator down, Doug asked, “Ready for part two?”

  “Only if it doesn’t involve food. I’m stuffed.”

  “Are you having fun?”

  “You bet.”

  “Good,” Doug said. “Because so am I.” His eyes fairly glowed. “You’ve made me happy, Brenda. Happier than I’ve been in months.”

  She felt as if he’d squeezed her heart. Yes, she was having fun. But for her, this was just a date with a nice guy. And she didn’t know how to tell him that was all it ever could be.

  “Now where?” Brenda asked when they were back in the car.

  “The planetarium,” Doug said. “I thought it would be fun to look at the stars with you.”

  When they arrived, a man met them at curbside and led them into an empty theater. “Where’s everybody else?” Brenda asked as she settled into a plush seat.

  “There is nobody else. This is a private showing just for us.”

  “How did you arrange that?”

  “I have my ways,” he said with a wink.

  “I’ve never been here before,” she said, twisting in her seat, looking in every direction. “Are you interested in astronomy?”

  “I used to think I’d become an astronomer,” he said, a longing in his voice. “My dad bought me a telescope when I was twelve, and together we’d study the universe. I still do. In the summer, I set it up in my backyard. In the winter, at my bedroom window. If you ever want to come stargazing, just let me know.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind,” she said evasively.

  “This date doesn’t have to end tonight, you know.”

  “Doug, I—”

  “It’s all right,” he said quickly. “I know you have a life that doesn’t include me. But thank you for tonight. Even if it was a mercy date.”

  “A mercy date?”

  “You know, a girl agrees to go out with a guy just because she feels sorry for him. Sort of like a cousin fixing you up with a blind date, and your having to go just to please your cousin.”

  She laughed but felt self-conscious because what he’d said was true. “Well, I do feel sorry about your being sick. But I’m having a great time, too.”

  “If I were able to go to school, I would have asked you out on my own. I know my parents pushed you in
to this, but I can’t say I’m sorry they did.” His openness and sincerity gave Brenda warm, fuzzy feelings, but that was all. She liked Doug, but certainly not in the same way he liked her.

  Just as the lights went down, Doug put his hand on top of hers. “Maybe sometime, if you want, you could come visit me. I get lonely.” He averted his gaze. “That sounds like a pity party, doesn’t it? And I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I just enjoy your company.”

  She knew he had every reason to feel sorry for himself. It didn’t seem fair that he should be facing death before he’d ever had a chance to live. She couldn’t tell him no. “Um—I could do that.”

  In the semidarkness of the theater, Brenda could almost feel his smile. “Can I call you? You won’t mind?”

  “Sure, you can call.”

  “I will,” he said. “I’ll call you soon.”

  Brenda knew positively that this was one guy who would keep his word.

  Five

  “Tell me all about it. Spare no details.” Julie sat cross-legged on Brenda’s bed Sunday afternoon while Brenda dressed for work. Julie had driven over to pick her up and was pressing for information about the date.

  “Doug thought of everything and made the evening special.”

  “You had fun?”

  “Don’t sound so shocked. Of course I had fun.” Brenda described the limo, the restaurant, and the planetarium in great detail. “Who’d have thought sitting through a show about the universe would be fun? Not me.” Brenda answered her own question. “But it was.”

  “Are you going to see him again?”

  “Yes. Just as a friend. He spends a lot of time by himself. What could it hurt to go visit him some afternoon?”

  Julie eyed her skeptically. “Are you sure all he wants is to be your friend? Don’t get carried away just because you feel sorry for him.”

  “He’s not some charity case. I like him. Really.”

  Julie shrugged. “Suit yourself. But don’t forget about Matt.”

  “I think Matt’s forgotten about me,” Brenda said with a sigh. “He’s never called.”

  “Maybe he’ll come by the booth today.”

  “Maybe,” Brenda said halfheartedly. Why couldn’t Matt like her the way Doug did? She wanted to be with Matt. He was handsome, popular, and healthy. Health was something she would not have even thought about had she not known Doug. But now it seemed like a very important ingredient.

  “You look good enough to eat.” Matt rested his elbows against the countertop and leaned into the booth to talk to Brenda. There were no other customers, Julie had taken a break, and Brenda was alone in the booth.

  “Well, I’m not on the menu.” Even though the sight of Matt still made her pulse race, she was irritated about his not calling.

  “Ouch. I’m getting frostbite.”

  “Atlanta’s a big place, you know.” Brenda’s voice was cool as she attempted to be aloof.

  “Is there someone else in your life?”

  “Would you care if there was?”

  Matt straightened. “There is, isn’t there? Who is he? Tell me about him.”

  Still miffed, Brenda said, “His name’s Doug. We’re friends.”

  “Just friends?”

  She was afraid she might have gone too far. She didn’t want to scare Matt off. “Yes. Friends.”

  “Good thing I’m not the jealous type,” Matt said with a disarming grin.

  She felt a twinge of disappointment. A little bit of jealousy meant a guy cared. Obviously Matt didn’t. “Then I won’t break off any of my other relationships.”

  “Fair enough. But do you still have room in your life for me?”

  “I’m not sure you’ve got time for me.” She didn’t have the courage to add, You never call.

  “I’ve been busy,” he said with a shrug. “I do the best I can.”

  Had she insulted him? She hadn’t meant to. “It’s nice of you to come by to see me,” she added quickly. “Can I get you a cone? My treat.” She wanted to keep Matt talking. Maybe he’d ask her to do something after work.

  “Not today.” He stepped back from the booth.

  Brenda searched for a cute remark, anything to make him stay. Her mind went blank.

  A woman approached the booth, studied the menu tacked to the wall, then gave Brenda an impatient look. “I have to get busy,” Brenda told Matt. Still, she hung back expectantly, giving him every opportunity to ask her out. But he didn’t. He only smiled and waved goodbye.

  Later, Brenda fumed and griped to Julie, “Why doesn’t he ask me out? He comes here, he flirts and teases, but he never follows through. It’s making me crazy.”

  “Why don’t you ask him out?” Julie suggested. “How about to the Christmas dance?”

  “Me ask Matt Forrester to the Winter Fantasy?” Brenda wondered if Julie had taken leave of her senses. Other than the prom, the Winter Fantasy was their high school’s biggest formal dance. Posters about it were all over the walls at school and a big article had appeared in the student paper. The year before, she’d gone with Tyler, but now that he was out of the picture, she had no one to take her. The dance was only three weeks away.

  “Why not? It’s not as if a girl asking a guy is never done.”

  “But I’ve never asked a guy out before.” Brenda chewed on her lower lip. “What if he says no? That would be so humiliating.”

  “You sat with him in the food court.”

  “That’s hardly a date, Julie.” Brenda shook her head. “It would be easier if he’d ask me out first. Then I wouldn’t feel so awkward.”

  “You might as well know something,” Julie said after a pause. “When I was coming back from my break, I saw him walking with another girl.”

  Brenda’s heart fell. “Who?”

  “Never saw her before. But she was pretty. And they were really into their conversation.”

  “Thanks for the day brightener.”

  “Don’t grouse at me. I was just giving you a report.”

  Ashamed she’d growled at her friend, Brenda said, “I know. It’s not your fault. It just makes me wonder what’s going on. I can’t figure out why he even bothers with me.”

  “Who can figure guys out?” Julie said with a shrug. “Can’t live with them. Can’t live without them.”

  Brenda agreed with a nonchalant toss of her head, but when the next customer asked for a cone, she attacked the vat of frozen yogurt with a vengeance that bent the scoop.

  Six

  By the end of the week, Matt had still not called Brenda, but Doug had called her twice. On Friday afternoon, she drove to Doug’s home, determined to put Matt out of her mind and concentrate on being a friend to Doug.

  His house was on a quiet, tree-lined street. November winds had blown bare the tree branches and swirled colorful leaves into piles along barren flowerbeds and a brick walkway. A cluster of Indian corn hung on the front door, and a windsock fluttered from a porch post. The door was answered by a short, slim woman with black hair and vibrant green eyes.

  “I’m Florence,” she said with a smile that resembled her son’s. “Come in. I’m so glad to finally meet you, Brenda.”

  “It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Drake.”

  “Doug’s downstairs in the family room. He’s a little under the weather today, but he has been looking forward to your coming from the minute you called.”

  “Well, if he’s sick—”

  “Oh, no, no,” Mrs. Drake said hastily. “It’s all right. It’s just the way things are for him. Good days and bad days.”

  Hesitantly Brenda followed her to the family room. Doug was on the sofa watching TV, but he quickly turned it off and struggled to his feet. “Brenda! Boy, I’m glad you’re here. This day seemed endless until now.”

  He looked pale, but his eyes were bright with anticipation. “Let’s sit,” she said, patting the sofa, half-fearing he might fall down if he didn’t.

  “I’ll leave the two of you alone,” Doug’s mother sa
id. “I’ve got brownies in the oven. They should be ready soon if you’d like some.”

  “Fine, Mom.”

  “And if you want anything—”

  “Bye, Mom.” Doug shooed her away. Alone with Brenda, he said, “Don’t mind my mom. She gets a little carried away sometimes. But you know that firsthand.”

  “She said you’re not feeling good. Maybe I should come another day.”

  “No, stay. I feel better now that you’re here.”

  She looked around the spacious room. Along one wall, there was a massive entertainment center filled with all kinds of electronic equipment. In one corner was a wood-burning stove; in another, a kitchenette. A sliding glass door led out to a patio. “Nice place,” she said. “I’ve seen department stores with less stuff.”

  He smiled sheepishly. “My parents have tried to make the house as much fun as they can for me, since I sometimes have to spend whole months cooped up here.”

  “You have your own jukebox?” Near the kitchenette stood a large Wurlitzer, bands of colored lights glowing from its front.

  “One of my father’s brainstorms. But I like it—no commercials like on the radio.”

  “And the pinball machine, that’s neat too. I couldn’t live around so much temptation myself. All I’d do is play.” She went over to his computer setup. “This is nicer than the ones we have at school.”

  “It lets me tap into the computers at the school library. My teachers post my assignments on e-mail. I can keep up on what’s happening at school. Did you know that our student newspaper is online?”

  “I sure didn’t.” She returned to the sofa. “With all these gadgets, I’ll bet you have friends over all the time.”

  “What friends? When I was on chemo, I was real susceptible to infection, so I had to be careful about germs. After the bone-marrow transplant, security was even tighter. A cold could have slapped me back in the hospital. Or worse. So I couldn’t be around too many people. Friends get busy. They forget about you. Like I told you, most of my friends are ones I’ve met in the hospital. And some of them have died. I miss them.”