He was so clueless.
Kate marched upstairs to her bedroom. She looked at the two pictures on her desk. One showed her mom in a strapless dress, her blue eyes outlined with black mascara, her long hair hanging past her ivory shoulders. Next to this photograph was Kate’s senior portrait with hauntingly similar features. There was little doubt looking at these two images side-by-side that she and her mom shared the same genes. If she looked just like her, did that mean she would develop lupus, too? Did Kate really want to know?
Kate stomped downstairs, grabbed her coat and headed outside into the wind. She walked quickly through the maze of cul-de-sacs and sidewalks.
Remembering the last time she saw her mom, Kate’s vision blurred with tears. After begging Aunt Suzy to take her to the nursing home, her aunt finally agreed. As Kate walked down the hallway, she noticed the bedrooms were smaller than her college dorm room and their doors locked from the outside. And there was definitely an odor. A musty, depressing, nursing home smell.
When Kate entered her mom’s white room, her heart ached seeing only one blue-capped lighthouse figurine from her collection sitting on the dresser. Then Kate saw her and Joely’s school pictures framed on the nightstand.
Her mom’s anorexic-thin body rested in a wheelchair facing a window that couldn’t be opened. When her mom turned and first saw Kate, her eyes sparkled, but then she looked disapprovingly at Aunt Suzy. Feeling a confusing mix of shyness and familiarity, Kate went over and held her hand.
A moment later, her mom looked at Aunt Suzy and uttered, “Did you bring it?” Aunt Suzy nodded. Reaching in her purse, she pulled out the spoon and pint of vanilla ice cream she had smuggled in. Her mom tried to turn her chair, but she couldn’t grasp the wheels with her swollen fingers. Kate grabbed the rubber handles and twisted her toward Aunt Suzy and away from the window with its view of the vacant parking lot. Aunt Suzy peeled off the round lid and scooped up some of the ice cream, feeding Kate’s mom as if she were a baby. Her mom took three bites before she started coughing uncontrollably. Kate stood up intending to find a nurse, but her mom and Aunt Suzy gestured that it was all right. “That’s enough for today,” Aunt Suzy insisted. Kate noticed her mom’s shoulders and spirits sink.
Seeing her mom brought out the needy child in Kate. She told her about school, about how she memorized the names of the Civil War generals and Joely studied mealworms in science class. Even though her mom didn’t respond, she kept talking. When Kate eventually grew silent, her mom said, “More. Tell me more.” Kate felt something she hadn’t felt since her dad had passed away—validated. She babbled on and on about everything she could think of: a paper she wrote in English class that received an A, a drawing of Joely’s entered in a county-wide art fair, the new puppy Jonathan had named Buster. Sharing details of her life with her mom was such a rush! Kate started hating Aunt Suzy for not bringing her to visit more often since it was obvious she came herself.
In an instant the glorious mother-daughter connection was lost and would never be regained. Kate smelled the distinct aroma of ammonia before realizing what had happened. “Go get the nurse,” Aunt Suzy barked. Kate bolted into the hall and down to the desk where she simply reported that her mom needed someone. A plump woman with short curly hair followed her back to her mom’s cell and immediately knew. “Let’s get you changed,” she said with a casual tone Kate couldn’t fathom.
Kate looked away, embarrassed, as the nurse removed her mom’s soaked Depends and put on a new pair from the top dresser drawer. Before the nurse left, she placed Kate’s mom in bed where she resumed staring out the window. Kate still hated herself for the way she fumbled for a new topic of conversation. Soon Aunt Suzy said it was time to get home. Kate awkwardly leaned over her mom’s body and softly hugged her, feeling the protruding bones of her shoulders. As she turned to go, she felt her mom try to grab her wrist.
Kate looked back at her. Her eyes seemed to scream, “This is not me!” She took a breath and Kate waited—anxious to hear anything her mom wanted to say to her. “Kate,” she said, having a hard time forming the words. A tear the size of a raindrop rolled down her cheek. “Please don’t come back.” Three days later she died.
Kate stayed out too late, especially considering she easily lost her bearings. As it grew dark she felt uneasy. Mitch was surely worried. She took small pleasure in knowing that.
# # #
“Don’t wait so long for your next appointment,” Stacy shouted to Kate over the roaring windstorm of blow dryers. “Those gray roots age you like nothing else.”
In the next chair a foiled blond looked up from a vampire novel. Locking on her sky blue eyes, Kate recognized her. The perpetually tardy teacher’s kid. Great. Just what she needed.
Kate nodded then looked at herself in the mirrored wall. She wasn’t going to meet Mitch at the doctor’s office today. He could just sit there by himself and think about how insensitive and presumptuous he had been.
In the background, Stacy lectured Kate about how tired she looked. After ten more minutes, Stacy declared she was finished. Kate barely glanced in the mirror before crossing the room and handing her Visa card to the girl at the front desk.
The willowy receptionist tugged on her hoop earring, which was practically large enough a Chihuahua could jump through it. “Oh, I left the appointment book in the back.” She walked away with Kate’s credit card before Kate could stop her.
The teacher’s kid gave her a dirty look. Even though Kate loved Stacy, she was going to have to find another stylist—one to whom none of her students went.
Kate’s gaze fell to the note card beside the cash register. At the top she saw her name written in Stacy’s curly handwriting. Beneath that, her preferred Redken products. After reading a few notes about Kate’s styling options, her gaze skipped to the bottom. H.S. Counselor, Married, No Kids—Just a Cat. The last part was underlined in red.
That was what she had become. A thirty-five year old woman with a cat.
# # #
Kate sat next to Mitch in the doctor’s waiting room, flipping through a magazine she didn’t want to read. She hadn’t said a word to him since the previous night. He had suddenly become the most inconsiderate man. How could he act like this was no big deal? How could he not know how terrifying this was for her?
She gnawed on her thumbnail, unsure of what she would do when they called her name. She eyed the exit. Yep. I’m outta here. She stood up and the magazine dropped on the floor with a thud. She stepped over it and Mitch grabbed her hand.
He looked up at her. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not like making a dental appointment,” Kate snapped and pulled her hand away. “The worst that can happen there is a cavity.” She didn’t even want to say out loud the worst that could happen here.
“You’re right.” Mitch nodded. “I’ll go with you if you want to leave right now.”
That was exactly what she wanted to do.
Kate’s eyes dropped to the magazine open on the floor. It displayed a picture of a pig-tailed girl stirring cookie dough with a wooden spoon, her shirt splattered with flour. She grinned while her doting mother leaned in to offer advice. It masqueraded as an advertisement for butter, but they were really selling family. The kind of family Kate secretly longed for.
Kate had spent her whole life afraid. Afraid of finding out she would end up like her mother. At least now she knew the name of it. There was a test for it. Was it better to know or continue living in fear?
Kate took a deep breath. Then another. “No. Let’s stay.”
Her belly whined as a reminder that she had been too upset to eat all day. She walked to a small table and poured coffee into a Styrofoam cup. As the wait dragged on, she continued refilling her cup.
Then a woman called her name and led her to a small room. “Someone will be in shortly to draw your blood.”
A rainbow of emotions flooded over Kate. This was it. This was going to dictate the rest of her life. Would she become
crippled like Mom? Would she some day be unable to cut her own meat? Unable to drive to work? Unable to live at home?
On top of everything else, these results would determine once and for all if she would ever have a baby. This was either the beginning or the end.
Glancing at her hands, Kate realized they were quivering. “What are we going to do if it’s positive?”
Mitch noticed her tremor, too, and placed his warm palm in hers. “We’ll deal with it together.”
Kate’s heart swelled with love.
Of course, this was crazy. She didn’t have it. Wouldn’t she have known it by now? Sure, she forgot what she needed to get at the grocery store sometimes, but that happened to everyone. Didn’t it? Sometimes her knees hurt, but it was usually after she had been wearing high heels. She would be fine. She and Mitch would go on with their happy marriage, maybe travel some more, maybe figure out this baby thing. . . .
Horrible memories invaded her brain: her mom sitting on the kitchen floor crying because she couldn’t open the refrigerator, her mom lying in bed all day, her four limbs cushioned with pillows. Worst of all, she remembered her mom not as a caregiver but as a sick person.
The phlebotomist appeared to draw Kate’s blood. Kate tensed. The woman told her to relax, but it was useless. Kate looked away from the needle, bracing herself.
The woman strangled Kate’s arm with a rubber strap. “Hold still.”
Kate tried to control her shaking. She flinched when she felt the prick of the needle. After the woman left, Kate stood up. Hot. Her face was hot. She started to wobble.
“Sit down,” Mitch urged, helping her back into her chair. “I’ll go get you something to eat.” He returned with a freckled, strawberry-blond nurse carrying a glass of orange juice and a power bar.
Kate felt so dizzy she couldn’t help spilling the juice on her thigh. Mitch jumped up to grab a wad of tissues. He patted her tweed pants trying to soak up what had already formed a dark brown stain. She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself down.
Then the nurse led them to a room where they met a rheumatologist with shaggy hair and a graying goatee. After they all sat down, Kate told the doctor that both her mother and sister had lupus.
Focusing on Kate, he told her that his twin brother had lupus, yet he did not. He explained what Kate already knew, that it was a mystery exactly how much of the disease was genetic and how much was environmental. He pulled the pen out of his shirt pocket. “How long have you had that rash on your neck?”
Kate pulled out her compact to see pink blotches that she had never noticed before. She witnessed her own face suddenly turning white. “I don’t know.”
He wrote something on the chart. “Are you sensitive to the sun?”
She stared at her neck a while longer before she put the mirror back in her purse. “I burn easily, but I figure that’s just my complexion.” Could it mean something more?
“Do you get a lot of headaches?”
Kate squirmed in her seat. “Lately.”
He ran through a checklist, making a note of her responses. Fever? No. Hair loss? No. Fatigue?
“Sure. Usually after a long day at work. That’s normal, right?” Kate looked to Mitch to reassure her. He nodded even though the rheumatologist did not.
The doctor asked a few more questions then said, “There isn’t a definitive test for lupus, but the ANA is a pretty good indicator. The lab should have the results in a few days.”
Kate imagined opening a letter that said, “Katherine Hopper, positive for lupus”. Her shoulders slumped.
“Someone will call you with the results,” he explained, as if reading her mind. “I can recommend a genetic counselor to help you work through the impact of a positive result, if you would like.”
“Are you saying I have it?” Kate scratched at the rash on her neck, thinking that her knees really ached today.
“It’s too soon to know for sure.” He stroked his beard. “Let’s wait for the lab work.”
The strawberry-blond nurse escorted them into the hallway gripping Kate’s chart to her chest. She stopped at the counter and picked up a small card. Kate saw that it was for Cory Simmons, a genetic counselor.
Kate held up her hand to refuse. “No thanks.”
The nurse leaned forward and whispered, “Take it. Please.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Kate and Joely softly embraced in front of a two-story limestone building with “Spiegel & Locke Law Firm” etched above the door. Kate smiled thinking of her grandpa’s lake house a few miles away, where he used to help Kate and Joely catch tadpoles.
Now Kate noticed her sister’s drooping eyelids. “How are you feeling?”
“Good.” Joely nodded as if to reinforce her answer then waited for Kate to pull open the heavy black door with the shiny brass handle. A woman dressed in a gray suit greeted them from behind an over-sized antique desk. After hearing their names, the woman offered them coffee or Evian.
Normally Joely would’ve lingered at the desk talking until the secretary revealed their shared affection for hamsters or something. Today, though, Joely took a seat next to Kate and waited in silence.
A few minutes later a young woman in a navy suit came over and shook their hands with a tight grip. “I’m Mary Spiegel.”
They walked to a conference room dominated by an oval table. Kate ran her fingertips along the aged cherry wood top as she sat down. She imagined her dad sitting at that same table and admiring its beauty all of those years ago. She turned toward Mary. “Did you meet with our dad to draw up his will?”
“No, I’m afraid not. Another lawyer at our firm did. He has since retired.”
“Oh,” Kate said, disappointed.
Mary Spiegel opened a file with the name Shupe, Edgar written on it. Just reading her dad’s name tickled Kate with excitement.
Mary asked to see their identification then suggested they walk down the block to the First National Bank where the trust administrator worked. She explained that he had been managing and investing the funds on their behalf.
As they rose, Kate asked, “Why weren’t we notified about the money when we turned twenty-one?”
Opening the file again, Mary skimmed the papers. “We sent a certified letter to your guardian, Suzanne Engle, but it came back undeliverable.”
Kate made a fist and mentally added another black mark to her aunt’s record. She looked at Joely who raised her eyebrows and shrugged. They buttoned their coats and walked to the door.
Outside winter refused to yield to spring and the wind stung Kate’s cheeks. Wishing she had replaced the gloves she’d given to Renee, Kate stuffed her hands in her coat pockets. She welcomed the blast of dry heat when she opened the bank door. Mary said hello to a teller and greeted two loan officers on the way to an office in the back.
Kate couldn’t help wondering how much money there might be. Her body tingled, like she was about to win the lottery.
Mary ushered them into a corner office with a gold plaque reading “Warren Donner, President” on the door. Had the bank president been taking care of their assets? Inside, a white-haired gentleman who looked about seventy smiled at them. He stood and shook their hands.
“So you’re the Shupe girls,” he said. “I’ve been wondering when we would meet.” He motioned for them to sit down.
“We just found out about this,” Joely said.
“I’m glad you did. Edgar would’ve wanted you to have this money. It’s not doing anyone any good sitting here in the bank.”
“Did you know our dad?” Kate asked.
“Sure. I knew your grandfather, too. We went to school together.” He smiled at the memory. “Good ‘ole Bernard.”
Kate and Joely exchanged a look of giddiness. Kate welcomed any opportunity to learn more about her parents’ and grandparents’ lives. She longed to fill in the blank pages of her family album.
Mr. Donner leaned back in his chair, his fingers laced behind his head. “Bernard and
I played on the high school’s basketball team. Won state championships one year. Our senior year he talked me into stealing a goat and letting it loose in the school for a senior prank. We were lucky we didn’t get caught. They probably wouldn’t have given us our diplomas.” His eyes twinkled as if he had traveled back in time, long before wrinkles ingrained his face.
Kate chuckled.
“That doesn’t sound like grandpa,” Joely said. “He was always so serious—reading medical journals and telling us to study hard.”
Leather-bound books filled the built-in shelves of their grandpa’s study and overflowed onto his desk. On one wall a shadow box displayed his butterfly collection. Below sheets of glass, paper-thin wings fanned outward from black thoraxes lacerated with stickpins. Kate’s favorite had delicate bluish-violet wings which reminded her of her mother’s eyes.
“We were all a little crazy in our teen years,” Mr. Donner continued. “Then we got married, got jobs and had to settle down.”
Kate sat upright. “How well did you know our dad?”
“Not as well, but Bernard would tell me stories. He was so upset when Edgar didn’t go to college. He called him a bum and kicked him out of the house.”
Kate and Joely exchanged knowing glances, familiar with the rift between the two.
Mr. Donner’s chair squeaked. “I have to say it took years for Bernard to come around. Eventually he found a way to be proud of Edgar’s fine woodworking skill, but mostly he was proud of the way he took care of you girls when your mom became ill.”
Kate squirmed a little, touched by this revelation.
“I was so pleased when Bernard changed his will and decided to leave his money to your father. I know Edgar had a lot of bills to pay.”
Because of Mom, Kate thought. God, I hope I don’t have it.
Mary appeared restless until Mr. Donner told her he could handle things from there. She left after giving Kate another too-firm handshake.
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