Always and Forever

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Always and Forever Page 23

by Lurlene McDaniel


  Michael hauled her back down. “If this had happened to Melissa and I found out about it, I would have gone after the guy with my bare hands.”

  He sounded as if he were apologizing to her, but her head was beginning to throb and she couldn’t sort things out. “You don’t have to make up excuses, Michael. I’m a big girl.”

  “Jory, listen to me.” His tone pleaded and he held her hands so tightly that it hurt. “I can’t even help myself. I don’t know up from down, right from left. But I do know what’s right and wrong, and this, with you, out here in the woods, in the backseat of your car, is wrong. I should never have come here alone with you.”

  “I’ll take you back to the party.” Her tone was wooden and she felt as stiff as a tree. “You can get your truck and leave.”

  “I don’t have my keys.”

  She reached into the pocket of her sweatshirt and pulled out his ring of keys. “I have them.” He looked startled. She explained, “You were too drunk to drive. I thought I was doing you a favor.”

  He took them, letting his fingers linger on hers. “You were right. Thanks.”

  “My good deed for the night,” she retorted and climbed into the front seat, still drowning in shame and unwilling to look Michael in the eye. They drove in silence, and at the party site he got out. He hesitated but she didn’t allow him to speak. She threw the car into reverse and the tires spit gravel and dirt as she pulled away.

  Jory made it home and quietly let herself into the sprawling, sleeping house. In her room, she undressed quickly and slipped between fresh, cool sheets. She stared into the darkness, numb and empty. She wanted to cry, but now the tears, which had threatened all the way home, refused to come.

  Jory shivered and curled herself into a ball. She wished she had someone to talk to. Someone to tell about what had happened between her and Michael and help her understand. She couldn’t tell her mother. The notion caused a sardonic smile. She couldn’t tell Melissa, because Melissa was sick. And even if she weren’t, how could Jory tell her about something so personal between herself and Melissa’s own brother?

  Lyle. She could tell Lyle. Not really, of course, but somehow she knew that deep down he would understand and help her make sense of it. “You must have a screw loose, Jory,” she muttered. She’d been mean and hateful to Lyle and had all but told him to get lost. He’d never want to talk to her again. Michael had been right for years in his assessment of her. She was nothing more than a silly, ditzy girl. A kid.

  The phone rudely woke Jory the next morning. At first, she tried to ignore it, burying her head under her pillow, but the thing refused to be quiet. She gave up, groped for the receiver, and mumbled sleepily, “Hello.”

  “Jory, it’s Michael.”

  She was instantly awake. “Yes?”

  “Melissa’s better, Jory. She’s done a one hundred and eighty degree turn. Her white blood count is over four thousand, her platelets are up around fifty thousand, and her hemoglobin is ten point six.”

  “That’s good?” Jory asked, trying to clear her head.

  “It’s terrific. It means that my bone marrow is doing the job, Jory. It’s working.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Since it was a Sunday, the highway wasn’t crowded and Jory made it to the hospital in record time. She hurried through the isolation ward and almost flattened Mrs. Austin, who was just leaving Melissa’s room. “Isn’t it wonderful?” Melissa’s mother asked, her eyes shining.

  “Fabulous,” Jory cried. “Can I see her?”

  “She’s been asking about you.” Mrs. Austin pulled off her sterile gown and stuffed it into a special container by the door.

  Jory paused and shifted from foot to foot. “Uh … where’s Michael?”

  “He had to go to work. Evidently, he took last night off and now has to make it up. He looked like the devil this morning too,” Mrs. Austin added, almost to herself.

  Jory was relieved that she didn’t have to face him first thing this morning. Not after what had happened the night before. “How is Melissa feeling?”

  “By comparison, like a million dollars. The change is dramatic, Jory. Of course, the doctors say that she’s still not out of the woods, but the latest results of her blood work are very encouraging.”

  Jory made a face. “Oh, those doctors would be pessimistic if we won the state lottery.”

  Mrs. Austin laughed. “You’re right. Go on in, Jory, but don’t stay too long. She thinks she’s stronger than she actually is.”

  Jory put on the sterile scrubs, then pulled open a second door to Melissa’s room. Her friend was sitting up in bed devouring breakfast, a plate heaped with scrambled eggs, grits, sausage, toast, and jelly. Jory watched, speechless.

  Melissa smiled and waved between bites. “What’s the matter? You’ve seen me eat before.”

  “Not that fast,” Jory said. “And never anything that fast that wasn’t drenched in chocolate.”

  “It’s my blood that’s messed up, Jory, not my stomach.”

  “I guess so.”

  Melissa shoved the plate aside. “Come here—give me a hug!”

  Jory wrapped her arms around her friend. Melissa felt thin and feather light. “I’ve missed seeing you,” Jory said, smiling to disguise her shock.

  Melissa patted her bed. “So sit down and tell me all the news from school. What’s happening?”

  Jory took a chair and pulled in close to the bed. Where should she begin? How could she catch someone up on six weeks of life? “We had a carnival at school for you.” She quickly filled Melissa in on the details.

  “You mean people came and gave blood and donated money for me?” Melissa asked. “That means so much, Jory. It really does. I didn’t realize that so many people really care. I know Mom can use the money too. I think her insurance ran out long ago.”

  Jory couldn’t imagine what it would be like to worry about paying a bill. “We had a good time, and besides—you know me—any excuse for a party.”

  “Who helped?”

  “The whole school. Especially the senior class.”

  “But you were the instigator?”

  “Well, me and Lyle Vargas.”

  Melissa looked surprised. “Lyle?”

  “He … um … he’s been pretty nice … ”

  “But you don’t like him? As a boyfriend, I mean.”

  “No way,” Jory said. “We worked together, that’s all. There’s nothing going on with us, and I’m not looking for anything to be going on either.”

  “Are you still hung up on Michael?”

  Jory suddenly felt extremely warm. “Haven’t I always been?” She couldn’t deny that she was still attracted to him, regardless of the fact that he’d rejected her the night before. “Some things will never change, Melissa. But I’m trying not to let it cramp my style.” Jory didn’t ever want Melissa to know how frustrated she felt about Michael.

  Melissa plucked at the covers. “Tell me everything about school. And I mean everything. I even want to know what they’ve served in the lunchroom since I’ve been gone.”

  Jory began to relate everyday occurrences, silly gossip, who was dating whom. Even the tiniest, most boring details made Melissa smile, and Jory wished she’d been more observant so she’d have more to tell.

  “Any word on National Merit finalists yet?” Melissa asked.

  “You told me they won’t be announced until April,” Jory reminded her.

  “I know. I’m just getting antsy now that I feel better. It seems like I’ve been here a year and life is passing me by. All I want is to go home.”

  “When do you think they’ll let you out?”

  Melissa shrugged. “No one answers a direct question like that around here. They keep telling me it’s too soon to tell. There’s also been some more damage to my heart.”

  Jory felt her stomach plummet as if she were on an elevator falling too fast. “How much damage?”

  “They’ll do another EKG in the morning. It should give t
he cardiac specialist a better idea.”

  The ordeal isn’t over yet, thought Jory. She wondered if Michael knew. “I sure hope this specialist gets you in top shape soon, Melissa. You’ve got to get out of this place—we’ve got a zillion plans to make for the prom.”

  “The prom?” Melissa studied Jory as if she’d suddenly grown another head.

  “You know, the senior prom. The once-in-a-lifetime event every senior girl lives and breathes for.”

  “Jory, who’s going to take me to the prom?”

  “We don’t know yet, now do we? But somebody will.”

  Melissa reached out and took Jory’s wrist. “Don’t you dare set something up, Jory. Don’t you bribe some poor kid and beg him to take me.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Jory exclaimed, secretly calculating whom she could approach. “I think we should double-date, that’s all. Cripes, Melissa, no one’s even asked me yet.”

  Melissa interrupted, her voice pleading. “Jory, please listen to me. You can’t manage my life this way.”

  “I don’t do that!”

  “The heck you don’t,” Melissa countered. “Maybe the prom is like the Brain Bowl for me this year—something I can’t go to. I don’t want to even think about the prom right now. Or where I’m supposed to get the money for a new dress. Besides, I’ve seen myself in the mirror and I look like a circus freak … ”

  Jory hadn’t meant to upset Melissa. She’d only wanted to give her something to look forward to. “Okay. We won’t talk about the prom now. We’ll have lots of time for that later.” She rose to her feet, patting Melissa’s hand and saying, “You get some rest and I’ll come back tomorrow. And call me if you want anything.”

  Tired, Melissa sank slowly down under the covers. “You get too involved, Jory.”

  “No I don’t. I’m just looking to the future. After all, you’ll be away at college this time next year and won’t be home until summer vacation. We’d better have all the fun we can before we leave Lincoln High.”

  Melissa sighed. “I’m sure you won’t let me leave without a ticker tape parade either. Did you ever stop to think that I may not want to come back here?”

  Jory grinned, dismissing her comment with a wave. “Goodbye doesn’t have to mean forever, Melissa. I want to make it worth your while to come back, that’s all.” Jory promised to return later, and she went into the air lock, where she stood for a few minutes against the door, trying to calm her racing pulse and catch her breath.

  Jory parked her car at the far back corner of the Steak ’n Shake restaurant after school. She ordered fries and a cola from the curb service waitress and scrunched down in the seat, hoping no one from school would see her. Right now she wanted to be alone.

  Her latest run-in with her mother still thundered through her head. Mrs. Delaney had confronted Jory the minute she had gotten home from school, brandishing Jory’s most recent grade sheet under her nose.

  “What have you got to say about these, young lady?”

  Jory shrugged and waved the computer printout aside. “I’m not a scholar.”

  “Look at this!” Her mother continued. “Cs, a D, and even an Incomplete. How do you ever expect to get accepted to the University of Miami with grades like this?”

  “You’re the one who wants me to go to the U of M, Mother. I never said I wanted to go there.”

  “Well don’t worry. With these grades, you couldn’t get into a vocational school! What is the matter with you, Jory? Where is your common sense? Everybody goes to college. You can’t expect to make it in the world without a degree.”

  Jory silently counted to ten, then dropped her books on the spotless kitchen counter with a thud. “Stop pushing me. Stop forcing me to decide about college right now. I’ve got a zillion things on my mind, Mom, and getting into the U of M is at the bottom of the list.”

  “Jory, I haven’t said much about the inordinate amount of time you spend dealing with Melissa … ”

  “She’s sick, Mother. I can’t abandon her.”

  “I’m not asking you to, but for heaven’s sake, keep it in perspective. You act like you’re one of her family instead of ours. You’re not, Jory.”

  Jory felt as if her mother had slapped her. She was about to say something angry and cutting when the phone rang. Mrs. Delaney grabbed the receiver, listened for a moment, and snapped, “Can’t you handle it, Lucille?” Jory leaned back on the counter. “Oh, all right,” Mrs. Delaney grumbled. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” She hung up and turned toward Jory. “I have to go to the office. But don’t think that this discussion is finished, young lady. It isn’t—not by a long shot.”

  Jory watched her mother sweep out the door and felt hollow and numb. She picked up the crumbled grade sheet, glanced over it, and was forced to admit that her grades were pretty bad. She really didn’t know why she hadn’t tried harder. According to her SAT scores, she was smart enough to have done better.

  She tossed the paper onto the counter. She glanced around the kitchen at the gleaming appliances and the freshly scrubbed counters and sinks, smelling of disinfectant and lemon wax. Mrs. Garcia had the place sparkling. As clean and sterile as Melissa’s hospital room, Jory thought.

  “Here’s your order, honey.” The waitress’s voice snapped Jory out of her funk. She paid for the food and nibbled halfheartedly on the fries. They weren’t greasy enough. Jory gazed out the window. Across the parking lot she recognized a car full of guys from school. She saw Lyle in the front seat, and he was staring straight into her eyes.

  Jory almost smiled at him, but she remembered what he’d told her about flashing smiles she really didn’t mean. Her face felt frozen. Flustered, Jory looked away.

  When she looked up again, the boys had gone inside the restaurant and the car was empty.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “What do you mean Melissa has another fever? I just saw her two days ago and she was perfectly fine.” Jory had met Mrs. Austin at the hospital.

  Mrs. Austin rubbed her eyes, and Jory saw the exhaustion in her face. “Well, she’s not perfectly fine now. She’s spiking a fever and the lab people are running around like mad.”

  Jory swallowed hard. “Is it … I mean, could she be rejecting the transplant?”

  “No. They’re certain that the transplant is taking hold. Her white blood cell and platelet counts keep climbing. It’s something else entirely. Dr. Rowan’s called in another specialist.”

  “Gee, Mrs. Austin, I’m really sorry.”

  “So am I, Jory. I don’t think I can take much more of this. First they give you hope, then it’s snatched away. Then hope again, followed by despair. My nerves are shot.”

  Melissa’s mother looked frazzled and Jory wanted to reach out to her, but didn’t know if it would be proper. “Maybe I’ll come back later,” Jory said, not wanting to leave, but not sure she should stay.

  “No,” Mrs. Austin said, taking Jory’s arm. “Don’t go yet. Melissa’s asked to see you. The doctors don’t want visitors except the immediate family, but Melissa’s begged me to let you come in.”

  “I … uh … I think of Melissa as my sister,” Jory said softly, shifting from foot to foot because the sense of urgency was scaring her.

  Mrs. Austin nodded. “So does Melissa, Jory. And so do I.”

  “Can I go in right now?”

  “Michael’s in there with her, but go on anyway. If anyone says anything to you, send them to me.”

  Jory struggled into the sterile gown, finding it difficult to tie the strings on her mask because her fingers were shaking. She took a deep breath, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, and went into Melissa’s room.

  The room was crowded with even more machinery than Jory had seen before. Something ominous, with hoses and an oxygen tank, stood in a corner. Jory ignored it and turned her attention toward the bed, where Michael sat holding his sister’s hand. He looked up as Jory entered and from over the top of his mask Jory felt his searing blue eyes burn
holes right through her.

  Cautiously, Jory approached the bed. Melissa’s breathing was light and shallow. Her cheeks were flushed and her skin appeared translucent. “H-How is she?”

  “Not so good.” Michael’s voice was brusque and Jory got the impression that he resented her intrusion.

  “Your mother said for me to come in,” she explained apologetically.

  “The fever’s wringing her out. She’s in and out, so don’t expect too long a social call.”

  His words were like tiny barbs and Jory winced. What had she done to make him dislike her so? The night in the car had been like a time warp, when the rules of life had been suspended and they’d reached out and joined with one another in some special way. Now, here in Melissa’s room, it was as if that night had never happened. “Can I touch her?”

  “Sure,” Michael said grudgingly.

  Jory stroked Melissa’s forehead. It was dry and hot. She watched the rapid rise and fall of Melissa’s chest through the thin material of her gown and followed the wire leads taped inside the material to the monitor where the green line zipped, fast and ragged. “She doesn’t look good.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Jory blushed, feeling stupid for making such inane comments. “What do they think is wrong?”

  “They haven’t said.”

  “But it isn’t rejection?”

  “No. My bone marrow’s working just fine. Ironic, huh? The cure works, but the patient’s still sick.”

  “Sh-She’ll be all right. They’ll find out what’s got her and give her medicine, and she’ll be all right again.”

  Melissa’s eyelids fluttered open. “Hi, Melissa,” Jory said gently, managing a smile. “It’s only me. I stopped by to see if you’d like me to bring you a chocolate cheesecake or something.”

  Melissa slowly focused on Jory’s face. “Maybe some other time. Are you skipping school?”

  “Me? Come on, you know I never skip school. Why, I hear I’m up for the perfect attendance award this year.”

 

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