Girl Against the Universe

by Paula Stokes

  “Your mom is here?” I hiss. I scoot from the bed back to the chair just in time.

  Jordy’s mom strides into the room holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a small container of fruit in the other. She looks back and forth from me to the vascular surgeon, her thin lips pinching together in the center.

  Jordy beats Dr. Cantor to the punch. “Mom, you remember Maguire, right? She’s my girlfriend now.”

  “Um, hi,” I say. “Nice to see you again.”

  She forces a smile. “You too, dear. I’m glad you’re all right.” She turns to Dr. Cantor, who is tapping away on his electronic tablet. “Can we help you?”

  “You’re Stanford’s mother?”

  “I am.”

  “When the ER physician was checking the placement of the chest tube yesterday, he noticed an anomaly on the chest film.”

  “An anomaly?” Jordy’s mom asks.

  “Yes, on the X-ray,” Dr. Cantor says. “We did a CT scan to get a closer look.” The doctor looks questioningly at me.

  Jordy rests his hand on my casted arm. “She stays.”

  “All right.” Dr. Cantor turns his tablet toward Jordy’s mom. “Stanford has what appears to be an aortic aneurysm.” He highlights an area on his screen, but it all just looks like random shapes to me. “Sometimes we just monitor them, but this one is large enough to require surgical repair.”

  “The accident gave him an aneurysm?” I shrill. I know it’s not my place to be asking questions, but I can’t keep the words from spilling from my lips. People die from aneurysms. All of my resolutions about choosing happiness and relinquishing the illusion of control start to crumble.

  “What does that mean, exactly?” his mother asks.

  “An aneurysm is a weakening in the wall of a blood vessel. They can become life-threatening if left untreated, but the accident didn’t cause it. I believe it’s been growing inside of Stanford for a while.” He pauses. “Are you familiar with Marfan syndrome?”

  Jordy’s mom purses her lips. “It’s some sort of genetic thing, right? Seen in taller people? There’s no one in our family who has that.”

  “In about twenty-five percent of cases, it appears spontaneously,” Dr. Cantor says. “With no family history whatsoever.” He clicks through a few pages on his tablet. “I notice you told the ER doc that you’ve been having some issues with fatigue during your matches.”

  “That’s right,” Jordy says. “And I’m taller than anyone else in my family, too.”

  “Many Marfan patients have heart valve issues that can cause fatigue or shortness of breath.”

  “So if I have this, this thing, it would explain why I’ve been getting tired?”

  “Yes, there’s a good chance it might.”

  “Can you fix it?” Jordy asks.

  Dr. Cantor steps close to the bed. He studies Jordy for a moment and then takes his hand and does something with his thumb. “We’ll need to run some additional tests so we know more about what we’re dealing with. But yes, theoretically, we should be able to fix whatever is causing your fatigue.”

  “So then I can still play tennis?”

  Dr. Cantor looks back and forth from Jordy to his mom. “You should be able to get back on the court after you recover from your surgery, and then we’ll see how things progress. Marfan patients are at a higher risk to develop additional aneurysms, but we could monitor you with regular CT scans.” He clears his throat. “We’ll talk about the potential risks involved with competing professionally after I get your test results.”

  Jordy looks down at his hands and I want to reach out for him. I can’t even imagine everything that’s going through his head right now. So much scary information to receive all at once.

  “So we just need to take things day by day?” his mom asks. She grips her coffee cup with both hands.

  “Well, like I said. This is all academic until we have more information. The important thing right now is to repair the aneurysm.” Dr. Cantor pulls a pager from the pocket of his lab coat and frowns at it. “I’ll have one of my residents schedule you for additional testing later today, and I can fit you into my surgical schedule tomorrow.”

  Jordy’s mom pales slightly. “So soon? I need to call my husband.”

  Dr. Cantor nods. “We really shouldn’t wait.”

  “Mom. Tomorrow is fine,” Jordy says. “I’m eighteen. I can make decisions for myself, remember?”

  “All right, but let me just update your father.” Pulling a cell phone from her purse, she ducks out into the hallway.

  The doctor turns back to Jordy. “Do you have any questions?”

  “Just one right now. If this accident hadn’t happened and I didn’t get that chest X-ray, could I have died before anyone diagnosed this?”

  The doctor nods. “The aneurysm would have continued to grow until it eventually burst, unless it caused you pain prior to that point. A lot of aneurysms are asymptomatic. Your accident could have very well saved your life.”

  Jordy looks over at me, and I know what he’s thinking. I drop my eyes to his hospital blanket and study the woven pattern as I blink back tears.

  Dr. Cantor clears his throat. “I’m going to leave you alone to discuss things. I’ll have one of my residents bring the consent paperwork by later. But no . . . strenuous activity until after the surgery, all right?”

  I blush. “We’re not. I mean—”

  “We hear you loud and clear, Doc.” Jordy says.

  He turns to me once we’re alone. “You hear that? Your bad luck saved my life.”

  “Well, it was either me or that deer,” I say jokingly. But inside I’m thinking about how every single thing that happened to me in the past few years played into this moment. If my life hadn’t unspooled exactly the way that it did, I wouldn’t have ended up in Pacific Point, on the tennis team, with Jordy. Not that someone or something took away three members of my family and replaced them with a boyfriend. People aren’t replaceable—it doesn’t work like that. Just that the Universe had taken them for its own reasons, and like my mom, I had created something good in the aftermath of tragedy. Maybe I was wrong about the never knowing. Maybe you do get your answers, at least some of them, if you’re patient.

  “Are you scared,” I ask.

  “Yes,” Jordy says. “But for once I think my mom is right. One day at a time.” He pauses. “Do you think your mom will let you be here for my surgery tomorrow?”

  “I think she will.” I reach out for Jordy’s hand and embrace his warmth.

  “Awesome. I’ll feel better knowing my good luck charm is close by.” His lips curl upward into his perfectly perfect smile.

  I grin right back at him. “Good luck charm, huh? I like the sound of that.”

  DECEMBER

  CHALLENGES

  1. Make the tennis team.

  2. Ride in a car with someone besides Mom: Jordy.

  3. Spend a day in a crowded place: Tennis tournament.

  4. Take something back from the Universe: Rock climbing.

  5. Ride public transportation: Team bus.

  6. Face a specific past fear: Roller coaster.

  7. Relinquish control to someone else: Jordy, scene of accident.

  GOAL

  Plane ride to Ireland for memorial service.

  CHAPTER 40

  Session #20

  I’m back in Daniel’s office the Monday after Christmas. He fit me in near the end of the day since I missed two appointments due to Ireland and the holidays. Turns out Jordy switched his appointment too, so he’ll be right after me as usual.

  “So how was it?” Daniel asks.

  “Ireland? It was good.”

  I smile as I think about the past week, Mom and me riding horses with my grandma, the road trip we took all around the countryside so Siobhan could point out where her sons got into trouble doing this or that. And then the memorial ceremony. I’d expected it to be this somber affair, but it wasn’t. My aunt started things off with a slideshow of Dad, Con
nor, and Uncle Kieran set to music that did make me cry a little. But after that my relatives all got up and told stories, each one funnier than the last. Then my cousins and their friends did a performance of traditional Irish dancing, after which it was time to eat. I think everyone who lived within fifty miles dropped by Siobhan’s farmhouse with some sort of baked good and/or alcoholic beverage.

  I went thinking it would be a good way to finally put the tragedy behind me, but I ended up celebrating everything that came before instead.

  Daniel cocks his head to the side and studies me for a moment. “Good? That’s it? That’s all I get?”

  “It was . . . therapeutic. Seeing my grandma, meeting some cousins for the first time, sharing stories about Dad and my uncle. I’m glad I went.”

  “How was the plane ride?”

  “Horrible!” I shudder. “Luckily my mom made this playlist of music she and my dad used to listen to, and then we watched some of his favorite movies on my laptop, and even though I could tell she was about to fall asleep, she stayed awake with me the whole flight.”

  “You didn’t sleep?”

  “No. No chance.” I suck in a sharp breath. “Oh, and there was all this turbulence as we approached Dublin, and I was pretty sure everyone was going to die. I kept thinking I’d have to make my way back here so I could haunt you from beyond the grave.”

  Daniel laughs. “You’re not the first client to threaten me with that.” He leans back in his chair. “But you survived.”

  I look down at myself. “Apparently I did.”

  “And so did everyone else?”

  “Yep.”

  “So then did you celebrate Christmas with your family here when you got back?”

  “We did. Our flight landed on Christmas afternoon, so we celebrated that night, exchanging presents and taking my little sister out to see some lights. And then Mom and I slept for about two days.”

  Daniel smiles. “Did you get anything good?”

  “Mom and Tom wanted to talk about getting me my own car, but honestly the trip to Ireland was more than enough. Maybe next year if I get a job or something.”

  “A job.” Daniel whistles under his breath. “I like the sound of that. Anything else new?”

  I scrape the toe of my flip-flop back and forth across the carpet. “My mom and I joined a survivor’s guilt group that meets every week at the community center. It’s mostly military people, but I think it’ll be helpful. Tom might even come too. He and I have been talking more. He’s pretty cool. I think he got bored while Mom and I were gone, so he started reading my books. He wants me to join a book club with him.”

  “Sounds fun,” Daniel says. “How are you feeling about everything you’ve accomplished?”

  “I feel like you’re a miracle worker. I’m practically a new toaster.” I grin. “Okay, maybe not quite like that, but I feel a lot stronger.”

  “Good. But most of the credit belongs to you. You’re the one who came up with and then completed all of those challenges.”

  “Right. I guess I should keep trying to repeat them? Reinforce things, like you said?”

  “You can make up more challenges, too, if you want,” Daniel says. “Though you should probably come up with a new goal first.”

  I smile. “I’ll work on that.”

  “How is your boyfriend doing?”

  I blush. “I thought you weren’t allowed to talk about him.”

  “Well, I can’t talk about him as a client. But I know how shaken up you were after the accident and then his surgery.”

  “He’s good,” I say. “So far the doctors have cleared him to play tennis. He’s taking it slow, but he’s hoping to be competing in tournaments again by next summer. He knows a lot is going to depend on what happens with his condition, but right now he’s just happy to get back out on the court. But you know all that, don’t you?”

  Daniel nods. “How is it for you, being in a relationship, caring about another person like that? Does it make everything more scary?”

  “Yeah, but that’s how it is, right? The more good things you have, the more there is to lose.”

  “Well said.” Daniel’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles again.

  “Since we’re getting all personal, how’s your girlfriend? Still with the sad guitar solos?”

  His expression goes flat. “I don’t have a girlfriend anymore,” he says somberly. Then when my face falls, he adds, “She’s my fiancée now.”

  “High five.” I hold up my hand. “Congrats, Doc!”

  “Thanks.” He slaps my palm. “I’m impressed with everything you’ve accomplished, Maguire. Including the sneaky way you even get me to talk about myself sometimes. Your mom added on a couple of sessions, so maybe we can do every other week in January and then re-evaluate how things are going.”

  “Sounds good.” I’ve come a long way in the past few months, but that doesn’t mean I’m all better. I know there will be good times and bad times, but I’m ready to face them.

  Jordy hops up from his seat and pulls me into a kiss the second I leave the office. “Hi,” he says, after we finally break apart.

  “Hi.” I reach out and steady myself against the back of the nearest chair. His kisses have a way of making the whole world wobbly.

  “Are you headed home?”

  “I was. Why?”

  “You should hang out and wait for me. I could use your help later with another homework challenge.”

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “It’s a secret.”

  I give him a sideways glance. “Does it involve dolphins?”

  He scoffs. “Something way better.”

  “What’s better than dolphins?” I ask incredulously. “They’ve got those big brains and they’re always saving drowning fishermen.” I run my fingertip across his lower lip. “They’ve got those perfect smiles.”

  We kiss again, and then Jordy says, “Whales, of course.”

  “Do you have a secret whale island too?”

  “Nope, but it’s peak season. Have you ever seen whales in the wild?”

  I shake my head. “I haven’t been to the beach in years.”

  “I think we need to fix that. Do you have a book to read or something?”

  “I didn’t bring one, but I can just mess around on my phone.”

  “I have something you can read.” Jordy pulls out a small, flat package. It’s not nearly big enough to be a book.

  “Jordy. You already gave me a present.” I hold up my wrist to show him that I’m wearing the charm bracelet he gave me for Christmas. So far it has exactly seven charms on it: a tiny likeness of Ireland, a tennis ball, a heart, a book, a rock-climbing shoe, a four-leaf clover, and a dolphin.

  “I know. But this is more something I made you. Girls like that, right?” He presses the wrapped square into my hands and then heads for Daniel’s office. He turns back at the last second. “If you don’t like it, I might actually go for option A this time and pretend I didn’t give it to you.”

  “Whatever.” I smile. I sit down in a chair and turn the package over in my hand. Using one finger, I break the tape. It’s just a folded piece of notebook paper. When I unfold it, I realize it’s Jordy’s challenge list.

  Jordy Wheeler’s super-awesome shrink homework

  GOALS:

  Make Real Jordy and Tennis Jordy into one person.

  Stand up to my parents; decide my future and do it on my own terms.

  CHALLENGES:

  1. Make a list of how Real Jordy and Tennis Jordy are different.

  2. Hang out with someone who doesn’t know Tennis Jordy: girl from Daniel’s office

  3. Do something both Real Jordy and Tennis Jordy want to do: work with the girls’ team

  4. Do something just for Real Jordy: help Maguire with her serve

  5. Do something parents wouldn’t approve of: sneak out to help Maguire

  6. Pick Real Jordy over Tennis Jordy: forfeited match when Penn got hurt

 
7. Hang out with someone who prefers Real Jordy: Kimber, Penn, Maguire

  8. Do something for Real Jordy and not lie about it: Climbing with Maguire

  9. Stand up to parents: That one night with Mom, and every day since then

  10. Acquire all the info I need to make future decisions: coach, agent, etc.

  11. Make a list of pros and cons for going pro vs. playing in college.

  12. Make a decision based on what’s best for Real Jordy, not Tennis Jordy.

  Bonus lucky 13: Tell Maguire that I love her.

  The paper trembles in my fingertips. I read his list again, blinking back tears.

  “I love you too,” I say quietly, but the words feel awkward. Foreign. I try it again. And again. I want to be ready when he is.

  Then I decide to try something different. Jordy has always been ahead of me, in therapy, on the tennis court, in admitting his feelings. I tilt my head upward. “I love you,” I whisper into the face of an imaginary Jordy. I giggle slightly. My heart starts racing in my chest, but it’s a good kind of fear. I practice once more. “I love you, Jordy Wheeler.”

  Maybe this time I’ll take the lead.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Like most people with mental illness, Maguire is afflicted by multiple disorders, the severity of which can change from day to day based on internal and external factors. A lot of people think that therapy is only for those who are unstable, suicidal, or impaired to the point of being unable to function at school or work. This is simply not true. If you are experiencing emotions that are affecting your quality of life, please consider seeking help. If you are uninsured or think you cannot afford therapy, speak to a teacher, counselor, school nurse, clergyman, social worker, or general medical doctor about your concerns. Schools and colleges often provide free services, and community leaders can frequently help people find online or local low-cost support groups.

  The National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) estimates that in the United States, one in four adults and one in five teens experiences mental illness in any given year. Fifty percent of chronic mental conditions begin by age fourteen, yet despite the effective treatments available, it is often decades before people seek help. Failure to seek help can be devastating not just to the afflicted, but also to family and friends. For more info, or to find support, please visit NAMI at www.nami.org.