Last Dance
Page 8
“So, you see,” her father finished, “while we’re very proud of Rachel’s achievement, we just can’t send her off for six weeks.”
“Well,” Dr. Malar began, his blue eyes filled with concern. “New York is not exactly the backwoods of America. I personally know several well-qualified doctors there. I’d feel confident in calling any of them to handle Rachel’s case temporarily.”
Rachel’s heart leaped up with renewed hope.
“It’s not just the medical reasons—” Mrs. Deering started.
“I know,” Dr. Malar interrupted. “But let’s face it, if it weren’t for the diabetes, would you be having the same doubts?”
Neither one of her parents would answer him. “Look,” he continued, “Rachel’s come a long way since her diagnosis. She went through very typical behavior patterns. First, disbelief. Then anger. . . frustration . . . rejection. She even tried to drop out of life over it.”
Rachel blushed, remembering how mean she’d been to everyone at the beginning.
“But she came to grips with it. She got back into dancing, even joined our diabetic youth group. Her control is very good. Her blood sugar readings are acceptable. Her diabetes is no reason to keep her home.”
“Yes, but there’s so much responsibility on her,” her mother said.
“That’s true. And there always will be. She’s got to take care of herself for the rest of her life. And the quality of that care will determine the quality of her life. Don’t base your decision on her disease. There are many doctors who can help Rachel in New York. Make your decision on what’s best for Rachel. She’s a bright, mature girl. And most important, she’s not afraid. And that’s the most important step of all.”
Rachel watched her parents’ faces. She saw their confusion. That gave her hope. But she also sensed their determination not to let her go. That filled her heart with fear. Didn’t they know they were deciding her whole future?
Rachel had never in her entire life listened in on her parents’ private conversations. But she just couldn’t help herself now. They were sitting in the kitchen. Her parents and Mrs. McLaughlin.
Shawn had told Rachel his mother was coming over to talk to her mom and dad. And Rachel was glad. Her parents hadn’t changed their minds yet, but they were beginning to see her side.
Rachel sat down in the hallway outside the kitchen and listened intently to the conversation.
“I know just how you feel,” Mrs. McLaughlin said after Rachel’s mom finished talking. “I’ll never forget the first time Shawn’s soccer team went away on an over-nighter. He was ten years old. They had a big championship match in Jacksonville. The whole team was supposed to drive up, spend the night, and get to the field early the next morning. Well, I just couldn’t face the thought of him ‘managing’ without me. So, I went along. There were 16 little soccer players, four coaches . . . and me. I know that Shawn was embarrassed to death.”
“Yes, but that was just for one night,” Mrs. Deering protested. “They want Rachel for six weeks.”
“Then the next time,” Mrs. McLaughlin continued, “they went to play in a tournament in Washington, D.C. I just knew he couldn’t make it without me. So I went then, too. And I’m glad I did. It gave me a confidence about him I could never have gotten otherwise. He did fine. In fact, he’s done fine every time. I stopped going along two years ago. He doesn’t need me. He manages his diabetes just fine. Why, his coach is talking about taking the team to England next summer.” Marge laughed out loud.
“But that’s one trip I’m going on. Not because Shawn needs me . . . but because I want to go to England. Why should he have all the fun?”
Rachel wished she could hug Shawn’s mother. She could tell that her parents were becoming less scared.
“I don’t know. . . ,” Mrs. Deering said.
“Go with her,” Shawn’s mother urged.
“What?”
“Go with her. Get her settled in. Contact the doctors yourself. Stay a few days—even a week—and then come home. You won’t feel like you’re sending her off into the unknown that way. And she’ll feel better about it, too. As much as she’s begging you to let her go, I know she’s scared a little, too. She needs you to have confidence in her in order for her to feel really good about going.
“I hope you’ll change your minds. This is more than just a dance scholarship. For Rachel, it’s a pattern for the rest of her life. She can let her diabetes control her life—or she can control her life herself.”
Rachel sat clutching Shawn’s hand tightly. The hustle and activity of the airport was all around them. Flight numbers were called. Passengers hurried past. Her father waited patiently in line to check their baggage. Fortunately, her mother had taken Chris to the bathroom so Rachel and Shawn were by themselves.
“I’m going to miss you,” Shawn said.
Rachel felt a lump in her throat. “I’ll miss you, too. I’ll write every day.”
“You’d better dance every day,” he teased. “Besides, it’s only six weeks. I’ll be here to meet your plane when it lands.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” He glanced around, then leaned over and kissed her lightly.
She was going to miss him. And the kids in the diabetic youth group. And Jenny.
“I heard them call your plane!” Chris announced, running up to them. Shawn pulled Rachel up beside him, and together they started toward the departure gates. Her mother and father walked quickly ahead, but Chris lingered alongside of them. She kept staring at Shawn, open admiration in her little girl eyes.
“Go on up with Mom,” Rachel urged her.
“I want to walk with you,” Chris said stubbornly.
“Go on! Shoo!”
Tears welled up in Chris’s eyes. “I’ll miss you,” she mumbled.
Rachel stopped and bent over her sister. She felt like crying a little, too. “No, you won’t. Listen. If you promise to take extra good care of them, I’ll let you use my CDs until I get home.”
“You will?” Chris’ face beamed. “Mom! Dad! Guess what!” Chris ran ahead to catch up with her parents.
Shawn turned Rachel toward him and smiled. “That was a bribe.”
Rachel shrugged. “Not really. It’s hard on her to be left behind. I know I’d hate it.”
“That’s true. I will. This is it, Rachel,” Shawn said as he squeezed her hand.
They’d reached the part of the terminal where only passengers were allowed. Mrs. Deering had already kissed her husband and daughter goodbye. She passed through the metal detectors and waited on the other side for Rachel.
“Bye, Dad. Bye, Chris.” Rachel hugged them both.
“Knock ’em dead,” her father whispered in her ear.
Then she turned and with her mother boarded the plane bound for New York. As Rachel strapped on her seat belt, she felt excited, but a little sad, too. In two weeks she’d be 14. And a student at the School of American Ballet in New York City.
And after her summer in New York, she had Shawn to come home to. That was the best of all! Life had a strange way of working out. And dreams had a funny way of coming true.
Author’s Note
If you would like more information about
type 1 diabetes, please contact:
Juvenile Diabetes
Research Foundation International
120 Wall Street
New York, NY 10005-4001
Phone: 1-800-533-CURE (2873)
www.jdf.org
About the Author
LURLENE MCDANIEL lives in Chattanooga, Tennessee, and is a favorite author of young people all over the country. Her best-selling books about kids overcoming problems such as cancer, diabetes, and the death of a parent or sibling draw a wide response from her readers. Lurlene says that the best compliment she can receive is having a reader tell her, “Your story was so interesting that I couldn’t put it down!” To Lurlene, the most important thing is writing an uplifting story that helps the reader lo
ok at life from a different perspective.
Six Months to Live, the first of the four-book series about cancer survivor Dawn Rochelle, was placed in a time capsule at the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C. The capsule is scheduled to be opened in the year 2089.