A Sister's Promise (Promises)

by Lenfestey, Karen

  Kate’s throat felt like the Sahara. “Um, maybe.”

  “If you can’t handle the pressure, why don’t you just quit?”

  Kate didn’t know why she let her words hurt her, but they did. Then she thought of Lily and something powerful rose up from inside of her. “If anyone should quit, it’s you.”

  Mrs. B glared at Kate with cold eyes. “What did you say?”

  Kate embraced her inner strength. “I know what you did. I know about Jennifer.”

  “You don’t know anything.”

  “Yes, I do. You should not be teaching. You should not be allowed to work with children.” Kate thought those might have been the victim’s exact words.

  “Fortunately, what you think doesn’t matter.” Mrs. B turned away and stormed out of the bathroom.

  Somehow Kate made her way to the tiny Louis XIV style love seat against the wall and lowered herself down, trying to catch her breath. Her hands twittered. She couldn’t believe she confronted her. She felt excited, proud and freaked out all at the same time. She sat and replayed the scene in her mind.

  A minute later Yolanda came humming through the door. Trying to act nonchalant, Kate stood up and checked her lipstick one more time in the gold-framed mirror. She then returned to the banquet room.

  Kate had to get out of there.

  Where was Trish? Scanning the dark room, Kate finally saw her in the corner talking to Nancy. Even though it was rude, Kate interrupted their conversation and said she had to head home. “Congratulations again. He’s wonderful.”

  Trish grinned, basking in Kate’s approval. “I’m so glad you like him.”

  “Definitely. I’m sure you’ve got yourself a good one there.”

  “Thanks. I think so. Hey, will you help me scout locations for the wedding reception?”

  Kate was honored, but she would rather have that conversation tomorrow. “I’d love to.”

  They said their good-byes. Before she turned to locate Mitch, Kate said, “We’ll have to all go out sometime. I think he and Mitch would really get along.”

  “That would be fun. I don’t know how to tell you this, though.” Trish wrung her hands and Kate sensed bad news. “Sean was offered a job in St. Louis.”

  Kate forced her face not to betray her disappointment. “So you will be moving there,” she said, stating the obvious.

  “At the end of the school year.”

  Trish looked away. “There’s something else. . . .” Her eyes focused on Kate. “I’m pregnant.”

  Kate grabbed Trish’s nervous hands. “What?”

  Trish’s rosy cheeks puffed as she smiled, clearly pleased.

  Kate already felt the distance growing between them.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  “You need to stop harassing Linda Cochran,” Mr. Mohr stated, sitting upright in his black leatherette chair. Pictures of the FHS football and basketball teams lined the walls next to photographs of men dressed in camouflage holding rifles.

  “Seriously?” Kate couldn’t help replying. “She did something not only immoral, but illegal, and she is accusing me of harassment?”

  On top of the chair’s wooden arms, Mr. Mohr’s hands coiled. “I told you to stay out of it. The situation has been dealt with.”

  “No, it hasn’t.” She couldn’t believe she just said that.

  “Kate, you don’t understand that those above you have to look at the big picture. So, I am telling you again. Leave Linda Cochran alone.”

  Kate crossed her arms and remained silent.

  He adjusted his army green tie. “I’m not so sure we will be renewing your contract next year.”

  Her mouth fell open. “Because of her?” Suddenly she wished she had joined the union.

  “Because of poor judgment.” His forehead wrinkled as if searching for another example. “Is it true you gave a student permission to drop his English class so he could go home for lunch?”

  Ricardo. Kate nodded.

  He looked her in the eye. “You need to check with me first on something like that. Once again you’re not seeing the big picture. There are liability issues to be considered.”

  “That was an unusual case. His mother was on bed rest and had a baby with Down’s syndrome. She needed his help.”

  “Regardless, I need to be in on those decisions. The truth is your performance as a whole has been rather disappointing. You’re out of here on Fridays like you can’t wait to leave. You haven’t volunteered to join any more committees. And I haven’t seen you in the stands at any of the school athletic events all year. It’s like your heart isn’t in it any more. It happens. Counselors get burned out.”

  “But I’m not burned out. I love my job. I love my kids.”

  “They’re not your kids.”

  Afraid she might cry, Kate set her chin. “Yes, sir,” her voice squeaked.

  As soon as she left his office, she headed for the faculty restroom at the end of the hallway, hoping it would be empty. She pushed open the door and looked for feet in each of the three stalls. All clear. Leaning up against the wall, she told herself to keep it together. She would not cry at work. She would not. That would be totally unprofessional.

  Breathe in-two-three-four-five. Breathe out-two-three-four-five. The intense, clean smell of Lysol lingered in the air. Kate looked at her watch. Six more hours before she could officially go home.

  Who cared if she was allowed to leave or not? She should just walk out the front door. She was about to lose her career anyway. The reputation she worked five years for. Gone.

  Her body slid down the pink-tiled wall until she sat on the chilly floor. She stared at the silver trash bin below the paper towel dispenser. What should she do now? She sat there for a few minutes. Then it occurred to her. She might not be at Foxworth High next year, but Mrs. B would be.

  After a while Kate started thinking of students she wanted to touch base with at least one more time. The list grew so long she wished she had a pen. She stood up and looked in the mirror to make sure her face didn’t give her fragility away. Taking a deep breath, she decided she must keep going.

  # # #

  When Lily arrived and placed the pass on Kate’s desk, Kate wanted to wash her stringy red hair more than ever. Instead Kate gave her something she probably went for days without—a warm smile. How many more times would Kate have the chance to reach out to her? Would the girl ever let anyone in? Kate hoped today would be different. “What are you reading these days?”

  Lily held the cover up.

  Kate saw that it was On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft by Stephen King. “How is it?”

  Lily shrugged. After a long pause, she made eye contact. “Did you know his babysitter locked him in the closet?”

  Kate shook her head, getting goose bumps as she considered the similarity to Lily’s childhood.

  “She got fired when he threw up all over his mom’s shoes.” She smirked.

  Sensing that she was close to a breakthrough, Kate smiled. “Do you like to write?”

  Lily’s eyes danced.

  She does. I can tell. “What kind of stories do you write?”

  Lily squirmed in her chair. “Horror.”

  “Really?” Hope rose in Kate like smoke from a campfire.

  Lily told Kate that she wrote about a teenaged girl who was a vampire princess. She fought bad guys who beat up and raped helpless children. Suddenly a shiver overcame Kate. Like Stephen King, Lily used her own life for inspiration.

  “Have you ever shown your stories to anyone?”

  She shook her head no.

  “I understand. I like to draw, but I don’t usually show my pictures to anyone. It’s so personal. And I feel vulnerable wondering if they like my work.”

  Lily’s mahogany eyes focused on Kate, indicating that they understood each other.

  “I would love to read something you’ve written sometime. If you feel you can trust me.” Kate believed there was a chance she would.

  As always, when K
ate started to get too close, Lily fidgeted and looked for the exit.

  Kate felt obligated to say something else. She tapped her pen against her desk, trying to figure out how to be firm, but not offensive. “Lily?”

  Lily looked at Kate.

  “Have you been to Mrs. Cochran’s house?”

  Lily looked down at her cruddy fingernails.

  “I’m concerned about you. And I. . .” How should she say it? “I’m worried you’re getting too close to Mrs. Cochran.”

  Lily’s expression turned dark. Her eyes narrowed.

  Kate wished she could touch Lily’s hand to soften her words, but she couldn’t reach her. “You can tell me if there’s something going on. If she’s making you do things. . . .”

  Lily clutched her paperback. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I just don’t want someone—anyone to take advantage of you.”

  “Whatever. You’re just jealous. Mrs. Cochran and I have a connection. She cares about me.”

  “I care about you too.”

  Lily crossed her arms. “That’s because you’re a counselor. You get paid to care.”

  # # #

  Kate drove around for hours, not sure which direction she wanted to go. She thought she saw Renee Teagarten walking across a field, but the bluish-black sky was too dark to tell for sure. When she finally went home to Mitch, she was barely shaking any more. She stood and stared at him.

  Mitch looked up from a dissected pocket watch. “What’s wrong?”

  “I might not have a job next year.” Never in her whole life had Kate been fired. Even when she worked in the cabinet-making factory, she did her job despite the airborne splinters that made her eyes itch. Even when she cleaned the foul-smelling stables and wanted to be fired, she showed up every day and did her job. She couldn’t believe how horrible she felt.

  “Are you kidding? Why would they let you go?”

  Kate struggled to speak. Saying it out loud would bring it all back and her hands trembled even more.

  Mitch walked to her and embraced her. He stroked her hair, waiting.

  She relished the warmth of his chest. “Because Mrs. B said I’m harassing her. And other stuff, I guess. Mr. Mohr thinks I’m burned out.”

  “So what does this mean?”

  “I’ll finish out the year and I’ll have to look for another job. But nothing’s going to happen to Mrs. B. She has tenure.”

  “Mr. Mohr is an idiot then.” Mitch caressed her back. “But he’d be doing you a favor. Instead of finding another job, you can devote yourself to being a mom.”

  She felt her muscles tense. “This is the most humiliating, demoralizing thing to ever happen to me. There’s no way I’ll ever see getting fired as a positive.” She pulled away and pushed the play button on the blinking answering machine.

  “This is Dr. Reeve’s office calling for Katharine Hopper. Your lab results are in. . . .”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Kate shivered, sitting in the chilly exam room next to Mitch, thinking about her family’s curse. Both her father and mother died within a year of each other—one when she wasn’t watching and the other when she was forced to look away. A terrible disease taunted her family and she was only minutes away from finding out if she had it, too.

  Worst-case scenarios ran through her mind. The pain would someday become unbearable. They wouldn’t have enough money to pay her medical expenses. Mitch would regret marrying her. She could die.

  Mitch attempted to distract her with conversation, talking about ordering parts for his railroad watch and going to see a sci-fi movie, but Kate did not keep up her end of the dialogue.

  How can he be so calm? Especially considering the havoc that’s only minutes away?

  Then the serious man in the white coat walked in. Sitting on his wheeled stool, the goateed doctor opened up Kate’s file. Kate studied his face, looking for the tension she saw in Dr. Martin’s features when he diagnosed Joely. His eyes looked hesitant. Worried. Her heart pounded like a hurricane.

  Mitch squeezed Kate’s hand and gave her a limited smile. She saw fear flicker in his eyes.

  “As you know,” the doctor said. “Lupus is very difficult to diagnose.”

  Kate nodded. Just hurry up and say it.

  “We use several criteria and a patient needs to exhibit more than four symptoms. An anti-nuclear antibody test is what we use as a screening test. It is positive in over ninety percent of cases. Your results. . . ”

  He paused as the door opened. In walked the strawberry-blond nurse from their last visit. Kate took a deep breath, looking back at the doctor, preparing herself for the bad news.

  The doctor continued, “Your ANA levels are borderline. Besides a rash and headaches, you don’t exhibit any of the other telltale symptoms. Even those may be unrelated.”

  Kate’s head started to spin. What is he saying?

  “I see no reason to give you a diagnosis of lupus.” The doctor closed the manila file folder and asked if they had any questions. Kate couldn’t think of any. The doctor shook her hand then Mitch’s and walked out of the exam room.

  Kate’s mouth fell open. She hugged Mitch, as happy as she was on their wedding day. Maybe even happier. Then she turned to the nurse and embraced her, the woman instantly transformed from a total stranger into someone special.

  The nurse smiled at her. “When you spilled your juice, I was afraid you had it.”

  Kate nodded, remembering the time Joely dropped her glass of water. “Me, too.” Then she remembered something else. “I was full of caffeine and hadn’t eaten anything all day.”

  “Thank goodness that’s all it was.”

  Kate and Mitch held hands and exited the building. “You know what this means, don’t you?” Mitch asked, grinning.

  “Hmm?”

  “We’re going to have a baby!”

  # # #

  I don’t have it, I don’t have it! I always thought that I did. But I don’t!

  On the drive home Kate decided it was time to call the people who not only cared about her, but also knew her secret medical concern. Not knowing if Joely would speak to her, Kate called Trish first. Her best friend was appropriately ecstatic, squealing like she did whenever she saw Brad Pitt shirtless in a movie. They chatted for several minutes before Kate said she must go.

  Kate scratched her head. She didn’t want to flaunt her good fortune in front of her sister. How could she rejoice that she was healthy when Joely wasn’t? Her finger hovered over the button. She changed her mind and dialed Rhonda. No answer. Finally, she hit number one on her speed dial.

  “Joely, I’m so glad you answered,” Kate said.

  “I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “Please listen. I just left the doctor’s office. I don’t have lupus.”

  Joely cheered so loud that Kate had to hold the cell phone away from her ear. “I’m so happy for you,” Joely said. “Congratulations!”

  “Thank you. Thank you.” Kate’s stomach untwisted. She realized that Joely shared her relief and euphoria one hundred percent. Just like when Joely planned Kate’s wedding, she harbored no hidden resentment or jealousy. Once again, her sister came through for her.

  “That’s so great you don’t have to worry about having lupus,” Joely exclaimed. “I have to admit, though, I am surprised.”

  “Why?”

  “I thought you might have it just because you look so much like Mom.”

  Kate remembered as a child, her dad fondly telling her she favored her mother. At the time she didn’t appreciate his comment, wanting to look only like herself. As she grew older, she felt both pride and panic in his words. She hadn’t realized how that fear weighed her down day-in and day-out. Now everything had changed.

  Or had it?

  She thought about the hesitant look on the doctor’s face and started to wonder if there really was something worth celebrating. After all, borderline wasn’t a definite no.

  CHAPTE
R THIRTY-NINE

  “I’ve made a list of all the things I want to do before I die,” Joely announced as she rubbed coconut-scented SPF 45 on her arms. She put the lotion back in her SUV. “You want to see it?”

  Within months Joely had gone from being depressed about her diagnosis to embracing it. Kate struggled to accept either extreme.

  Joely placed a wide-brimmed straw hat on her head, looking more ready for a day at the beach than at the local putt-putt.

  Kate remembered that the rays could trigger flares. “Should you be out here in the sun?”

  “I’ll be alright,” Joely said, waving her hand dismissively. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself, you know.”

  Kate ignored her jibe. They walked to the little window and paid their fees.

  A few minutes later they stood on the green, Kate holding a silver club and a cherry red golf ball. Joely reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper. She handed it to Kate who read: paint a masterpiece, learn to swim, hear a private Billy Joel performance.

  Kate stopped reading. “I don’t think the thing with Billy Joel is very likely.”

  “I know,” Joely said, sounding disappointed. “Maybe I could contact that organization that grants final requests for kids. . .what’s it called? The Make-a-Wish Foundation? After all, am I not a big kid?” She smiled mischievously.

  Kate’s hand clenched. How can Joely joke about this?

  Joely played first. “Take your shot, sis. You’re holding up the line.”

  Behind her, she saw a girl about twelve and a boy around nine having a duel with their golf clubs. Kate tucked the list in her back pocket and put down her ball. She swung again and again, losing count of her strokes.

  Joely wrote on the scorecard with a miniature pencil. “We’ll just say that was five.”

  At the next hole Kate placed her golf ball next to the rut where many people had obviously started. The trick on that hole was to go underneath a windmill avoiding the long rotating blades.

  Even though Joely downplayed her symptoms, Kate noticed she walked stiffly like an elderly woman. Rather than turning her neck, she turned her whole body to look at the target.