Always and Forever

by Lurlene McDaniel

  “Yes.”

  “Then you can do it again.”

  Melissa sighed and gazed up at the bright blue sky. “We can go now,” she said.

  When Jory got home she called Doug, even though they weren’t dating anymore. “There’s a party over on Davis Island,” she told him, forcing a happy voice. “Want to go?” They ended up at a mansion with white pillars and a circular, shrub-lined driveway.

  “Who owns this place?” Doug asked in genuine awe.

  “Friend of a friend.” Jory led him inside, where music screamed and kids danced in tight bunches, shouting above the noise. She wanted to laugh and dance and have a ball. She wanted to forget about the cemetery and Rachael and Margaret, the girl in the poem. Doug nuzzled her neck, but she shied away. “Cool it, Doug.”

  “Well, excuse me. I thought we were here to have a good time.” He tried again to pull her close.

  “I plan to have a good time, but hands off. Okay?”

  “What’s with you, Jory? First you’re hot, then you’re cold. I don’t like being jerked around.”

  Jory stepped out of Doug’s grasp. “Look, this was a bad idea. I don’t really feel like partying after all, but there’s no reason you shouldn’t stay.” Before he could do anything, Jory escaped into the crowd and headed for the door.

  Once outside she took in big gulps of air and squeezed her eyes shut, because she suddenly felt like crying. “You’re being stupid,” she told herself aloud. “You like parties. Parties like you.” But no matter what she said, she felt only like going home and being by herself.

  The atmosphere at the Austin’s dinner table was tense. For Jory, it didn’t seem much like Christmas Eve. Melissa was withdrawn, Michael was sullen and brooding, and Mrs. Austin was overly chatty, insisting everyone have seconds, when they hadn’t even finished their firsts.

  “Tell me, Jory, what’s your family planning for Christmas Day?”

  “My mother’s got a party lined up in the late afternoon. I’m not sure where.” She did, but hated thinking about spending a tedious afternoon with her parents’ friends. Naturally, Mrs. Delaney had seen to it that a “charming young man” would be there for Jory. Their fight over it still rang in her ears, but she was going.

  “I was thinking that we might go to a movie,” Mrs. Austin said. “You know how long Christmas Day can be. After the gifts are unwrapped and the dinner’s eaten, what’s left to do?”

  Jory envied Mrs. Austin’s plans. There were no parties to attend, just family togetherness. She’d have given a million dollars to go to that movie with them.

  “Would you like more lasagna, Michael?”

  “No, thanks. I’m full.”

  “But you hardly ate anything and it’s your favorite—”

  “No, Mom.” His abruptness caused a strained silence to fall.

  “This isn’t fair.” Melissa spoke. “Everybody’s on edge and it’s all my fault.”

  “That’s not so …”Mrs. Austin began.

  Melissa slammed her fork against her plate. “Yes it is. This is Christmas Eve and it’s worse than a funeral around here.” She backed away from the table and left the kitchen. Michael exchanged glances with his mother and the two of them hurried after her. Jory had no choice but to follow.

  In the living room, Melissa stood fingering the needles on the decorated Christmas tree. Jory hung back, fidgeting, while Mrs. Austin went to her daughter. “What can I do to help, Melissa? Tell me, please.”

  “Nothing. There’s nothing anybody can do.” Melissa’s voice was soft and Jory had to inch closer in order to hear.

  Michael came up on the other side of his sister. “Remember the Christmas we went to Disney World?”

  Melissa nodded. “I was ten and you rode Space Mountain with me and didn’t even hassle me afterward when I threw up.”

  “You never did have a strong stomach.”

  Melissa turned her head and smiled wistfully at him. “You told me that I should go ride it with you one more time. That it was like falling off a horse. You had to get right back on and ride again.” With sudden swiftness, Melissa spun and said to her mother, “What should I do, Mom? Please tell me what to do.”

  Mrs. Austin held her daughter and stroked her hair, which by now was almost past her jawline. “You’re my baby, Melissa. It’s killing me watching you have to make this decision. But I believe it’s your decision to make. I want you to grow old, Melissa. I can’t stand the thought of your not living a full life.”

  Melissa buried her face in her mothers shoulder. “Old and wrinkled sounds wonderful to me.” She pulled away. “But we all know there are no guarantees if I have the transplant.”

  Michael cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Are you saying my bone marrow might not come through? I only manufacture primo stuff, you know.”

  “Does it come with a money-back warranty?” Melissa asked.

  “A ‘life-back’ warranty,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

  Jory inched toward the door. She felt intrusive, like an eavesdropper. How differently Mrs. Austin treated Melissa from the way her mother treated her. Jory wasn’t even allowed to make a simple decision about college, and Melissa was being entrusted to make one about her very life.

  “What do you think, Jory?”

  Melissa’s question so surprised her, that Jory felt her cheeks flush, and her feet seemed rooted to the carpet. Her gaze flitted from face to face. “I … I … don’t know …”

  “You once told me that we all get choices about how we want to manage our lives,” Melissa said.

  Jory recalled their conversation on the beach. “I still think that’s true.” She chose her words carefully because Michael and Mrs. Austin were watching, and her heart was pounding and her palms were sweating. “It’s sort of like if we don’t choose whenever we get the chance, then we have nothing to complain about if things don’t work out the way we want them to in our hearts.”

  Melissa shrugged and dropped her eyes, miserably. “I don’t feel like I have much of a choice.”

  Mrs. Austin put her arm around Melissa’s shoulders. “I’ll support any choice you make.”

  Jory studied the faces of the three Austins. Same dark hair, blue eyes, and pointed chin. The Christmas tree lights twinkled behind them, making patterns on their skin. She ached inside, longing to be a part of them.

  “I’ll do it,” Melissa said softly. “I’ll call Dr. Rowan right after New Year’s and tell him I’ll do the transplant.”

  Mrs. Austin sagged with relief and Michael broke out in a grin. “That’s a girl,” he said. “We’ll beat this thing, Melissa. With my marrow and your guts, we’re going to win.”

  Jory walked toward the door, pausing long enough to take one last look at the three of them. Though her heart begged to stay with Melissa and Michael and their mother, her common sense told her she was intruding.

  Outside stars burned in the sky, and Christmas lights shone from neighborhood houses. She shivered. In one week her best friend would begin a journey into the unknown. Jory swore to God that, one way or another, she would not go alone.

  Chapter Nine

  “Jory, wait up. I want to talk to you.”

  Jory turned in the school’s crowded hallway and spotted Lyle. “What do you want?” She wasn’t in a good mood and knew it.

  “I heard Melissa is back in the hospital. Is that true?”

  “Doesn’t anyone have anything else to gossip about around this place?”

  “It’s not gossip, Jory. I’m interested.”

  The sincere expression on his face made her regret her sharp remark. “Everybody’s asking, Lyle. I’ll bet I’ve been asked about Melissa a million times today.” Jory stopped beside a bank of lockers. “She went back right after New Year’s. They’ve been putting her through a bunch of tests and plan to do a bone marrow transplant real soon.”

  “Are they using her brother’s marrow?”

  “Yes. But first she has to
undergo autoimmune suppression. It’ll take a couple of weeks before her body’s ready for the marrow. Rejection,” Jory said. “That’s the problem.”

  “I’m sorry, Jory. I know she’s your friend.”

  Jory felt tears well in her eyes and she shifted uneasily. “I’ve got to go.”

  Lyle’s hand shot out and touched her shoulder. “Would you like to go someplace after school and talk about it?”

  She shrugged nonchalantly. “What’s to talk about? There’s nothing to do but wait and hope that the transplant takes.”

  “You act like it doesn’t bother you.”

  “It bothers me plenty, but I don’t go around discussing it with every Tom, Dick, and Harry.”

  “Or Lyle,” he said with a quick smile.

  For some reason, his concern made her want to bolt. “The bell’s about to ring. Can’t be late,” she said with forced enthusiasm.

  “I wouldn’t want to make you late,” Lyle said, shifting forward.

  She stepped back, feeling a tightness in her chest, and all she wanted to do was get away.

  “If you change your mind … ” Lyle said.

  “I won’t, but thanks for the offer. I’ll be just fine.” She forced a carefree smile. “There’s plenty to do without sitting around and speculating about Melissa. I’ll tell her that you were asking about her, though.” Jory stepped into the flow of students, scurrying to class before the morning bell sounded. She smiled and waved to everybody all the way to her classroom.

  “Welcome to my clean, germ-free universe. They scrubbed it down with disinfectants and sprayed it with ultraviolet light. What do you think?”

  Jory entered Melissa’s room through a cubicle, pushing up the sleeves of an oversized sterile gown. She felt freakish in mask and bonnet. “To quote Kermit the Frog, ‘It isn’t easy being green,’ ” she said.

  Melissa giggled. “You can always make me laugh, Jory.” She was sitting up in bed, but at least she looked normal, not bloated and splotchy as she had the first time she’d been in the hospital undergoing chemo.

  Machines and apparatus lined the walls. “Have they started the drugs?” Jory asked, adjusting her mask, thinking her voice sounded muffled.

  “Tomorrow.” Wires attached to Melissa’s chest led to a monitor that registered a regular green blip on a small screen.

  “What’s that?”

  “My heart monitor. There’s been some damage to my heart from the chemo. They have to keep close tabs on it.”

  “And that?” She pointed to a small cart with paddles.

  “A crash cart. In case my heart goes haywire.” Jory grimaced. Melissa seemed resigned now and, in some ways, eager to get on with the program. She added, “You just missed Michael.”

  Jory wasn’t too sorry she’d missed him. Ever since the day he’d questioned her motives for being involved with his sister, she’d felt awkward around him. Still, it hadn’t lessened how deeply she cared for him. “Is he nervous about going under the knife?”

  “Worse than a two-year-old. Why are men such babies about needles and hospitals?”

  “I wouldn’t like it much myself,” Jory confessed. “When does he check in?”

  “Day before surgery. They prep him early the next morning, extract the marrow, and rush it over here to me. He’ll go into the recovery room and then back to his hospital room. They say he’ll be up and around in no time. Two or three days, max.”

  “They probably need the bed for sick people,” Jory said with a nervous laugh, because her stomach felt funny whenever she thought about them sticking syringes into Michael’s bones.

  “I got my SAT scores,” Melissa said, changing the subject. “And Mrs. Watson is writing my recommendation for the Merit Scholarship.”

  The information brought a sense of normalcy into Jory’s thoughts. “Mother’s making me apply to the University of Miami,” she told Melissa.

  “Is that what you want?”

  “No, but I don’t know what I want, so I’m just biding my time and trying to go along with her. Mother can be very determined.” She didn’t want to burden Melissa with how much the two of them yelled at one another. Jory went on quickly. “A lot of the kids at school are asking about you. Lyle too.”

  “He likes you, Jory.”

  Jory looked skeptical. “I don’t like him. I mean, not in that way.”

  “Is it still my brother?”

  Jory dropped her gaze and picked at the front of her gown with gloved fingers. “He’s angry with me, Melissa. I don’t know why either.”

  “He’s angry at everybody. He’s been going to a gym and taking it out on a punching bag.”

  “Doesn’t he ever go up in his balloon anymore?”

  Melissa shook her head. “No. I wish he would, but it’s like he’s doing penance. He won’t let himself have a good time while I’m sick.”

  Jory wrinkled her nose. “That’s weird. How’s that going to help you?”

  “Go figure.” They fell silent and Jory heard the hiss of some machine and the steady electronic beep of Melissa’s heart monitor. Melissa reached into the drawer of her bedside table and withdrew a small book. “Will you do me a favor, Jory?”

  “Anything.”

  “This is my journal.” She handed over a blue leather-bound volume. “I’ve been writing in it ever since last year. I want to keep writing in it. You know, keep a record of these days.”

  Jory nodded. “Sounds like a good idea. What can I do?”

  “If things don’t go well … if I get real sick or something, keep it up for me.”

  The request seemed overwhelming and Jory handed the book back to Melissa. “Cripes, I’m no good at that sort of thing. I can’t even keep my class notes in order. Maybe your mother could do it for you.”

  “No. I want you to do it.”

  “But what would I write?”

  “The facts. Your feelings. Whatever you think of.” “Melissa, I can’t.”

  Melissa jutted her lower jaw. “It’s important to me, Jory.”

  “But why?”

  Melissa hugged the book to her. “Maybe because its the only thing I have to leave behind. Rachael Dove left a whole pile of coloring book pages and I know they must mean everything to her family.”

  “You sound like you don’t think this transplant is going to work.” The notion irritated Jory. “You’ve got to think positive, Melissa.”

  “I believe in the transplant. But I still want you to do this for me.”

  “But you’ll do it for now?” Jory licked her lips and felt sweat trickle down between her shoulder blades. The mask was making it difficult to breathe.

  “As long as I can.”

  “And after you’re home, you’ll keep writing in it?”

  Melissa stared at Jory for a long moment. “Sure. Once I’m home.”

  Jory felt relieved. Once Melissa went home, everything would return to normal. “It’s a deal,” she said. Melissa slid the book back inside the drawer and Jory added, “I’d better be going.” She didn’t have anyplace to go, but the walls were closing in on her.

  “See you tomorrow?” Melissa sounded hopeful. “Lying around with nothing to do but read and watch TV gets boring.”

  “Sure.” Jory didn’t meet her eyes. She left the hospital, shaking off the scent of medicine and disinfectants. She decided not to go home. Instead she headed for isolated back roads north of the university. She floored the accelerator, and the engine responded. She blasted down the highway, honking her horn, passing startled motorists she thought were going too slowly.

  The radio blared, and the noise and the speed soothed her and made her feel in control. Somewhere north of Tarpon Springs a cop caught up with her. He gave her a lecture and a speeding ticket. She shoved it into her glove compartment, knowing that when her mother found out, she’d be in big trouble. “So what?” she said to her reflection in the rearview mirror. “Who cares?” Life was too short to waste. Let her mother say whatever she wanted. Jory really d
idn’t care.

  Lyle called her that night and asked her to a movie. She wasn’t really interested in going, but her parents were out of town on business and she was lonely. He picked her up and took her to a film she forgot once the credits rolled. “Ice cream?” Lyle asked afterward.

  “It’s winter.”

  “Hot fudge takes care of cold nights.”

  The ice cream parlor was filled with kids from school, and Jory flitted from table to table, laughing and making small talk while Lyle bought hot fudge sundaes.

  They sat across from each other in a booth. Jory felt herself relaxing, buoyed by the animated conversation with friends. She swirled her spoon through a blob of warm chocolate. “Tastes good.”

  “Did you go by the hospital today?”

  She felt herself tensing up again. She didn’t want to talk about Melissa. “Why are you always asking me about Melissa? Do you like her or something?”

  “I know what her family’s going through, that’s all.” His words reminded her that she wasn’t a member of the Austin family. “My mother had cancer, Jory. She went through chemo and radiation three years ago. She’s been in remission ever since.”

  His admission startled her and she grew self-conscious, as if Lyle could read her heart and see the hurt. She didn’t want anybody to know how much it hurt.

  “Cancer’s rough on the whole family. It’s expensive too,” he said.

  She wanted to say it was rough on best friends also. “I-I’m glad your mother’s all right now, but I don’t know what you want me to say about Melissa.” She forced a smile and felt foolish.

  His amber eyes seemed to be looking inside her. “When my Mom was diagnosed, our whole family went through a special therapy program to help us deal with our feelings about it.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “It was good, Jory. I learned a lot about myself and how to accept reality. You need to deal with it too.”

  She shifted her eyes away. “I’ve dealt with it. I want Melissa to go on with her life, and I’ll help however I can because she’s my friend. There’s nothing more to say.”

  “You can talk about how mad you are about it. And how unfair it all is.”