No Time to Cry

by Lurlene McDaniel

  “This isn’t your Christmas present.” She took a deep breath. “It’s—it’s some of Sandy’s things. The stuff she left to me.”

  He shook his head vigorously and thrust the box onto her lap. “I couldn’t. She wanted you to have this stuff.”

  “I know she gave it to me,” Dawn said. “But I think you should take it now. It’s a way for you to hold on to her.”

  Slowly, he took the old shoebox and lifted the lid. The reflection of the tree lights twinkled on the glitter from the popcorn necklace Sandy had made during her stay in the hospital. “Looks pretty bedraggled,” Brent said with a half-smile as he held it up.

  “It’s a work of art,” Dawn countered, returning his smile.

  His hands played over the combs and hair ribbons. “She sure liked fixing her hair. I remember how she cried when all of it fell out from the chemo.” He held up a handful of the colorful ribbons, gently brought them to his nose, and sniffed. “They still smell like her hair,” he said in wonderment.

  Dawn wasn’t so sure. After all, they’d been shut inside the box and stored in her attic until this past summer. But if the items smelled that way to him, she didn’t want to take away the comfort they might provide.

  “You sure you want me to take these?” he asked. “She gave them to you.”

  She felt her heart clutch, and for a moment she almost backed down. But seeing his fascination with the items and understanding how much they meant to him gave her courage. “I’ll just hold onto a few things for memory’s sake. I want you to take the rest. You’re her brother, and someday you can show them to your kids and tell them all about their special aunt.”

  Dawn saw that his eyes looked misty. She glanced quickly down into the box and rummaged through it. Finally, she settled on one set of combs, the popcorn necklace, and the page from the Bible imprinted with Ecclesiastes 3.

  He closed the lid and laid the shoebox next to him on the sofa. He raised his hand and stroked Dawn’s hair, all the while gazing into her eyes. “Thank you, Dawn.”

  “We both loved her,” Dawn said. “It’s only right we should share her.”

  He pulled her into his arms, and they clung to each other with a soft and quiet tenderness. Dawn had the feeling that Sandy was somehow in the room with them, holding them in arms big enough for them both.

  * * * * *

  She opened the gift from Brent the night before he left, and she was crazy about the book bag and sweatshirt bearing the emblem of his college, West Virginia Tech. After he left for home, Dawn moped around, but by Christmas morning, she woke up excited about the holiday ahead of her.

  All the time they were opening gifts that morning Rob seemed distracted. He left early to pick up Katie so he could bring her back for Christmas dinner. “We’re going to open our presents to each other together,” he explained, grabbing his keys and darting out the door.

  When Katie and Rob came back, they walked in through the kitchen, where Dawn was helping her mom and dad prepare Christmas dinner. “Just in time to peel potatoes,” Mrs. Rochelle announced.

  Dawn took one look at Katie and knew something was going on. Katie’s face looked radiant. Dawn looked at her brother, who appeared equally happy. “Okay, you guys, what’s up? You both look like you’re ready to burst.” Her parents stopped their work and came over to investigate.

  Katie glanced at Rob, and he nodded. She held out her hand. “Rob asked me to marry him, and I said yes,” Katie announced. From her finger, a diamond glittered.

  Thirteen

  “ENGAGED! You mean your brother went and got engaged? Does that mean he’s definitely not going to wait for me?” Rhonda asked. Rhonda and Dawn were sitting in Dawn’s bedroom the day after Christmas, checking over her gifts, when Dawn broke the big news.

  “I know it’s hard to accept, Rhonda, but you’ll just have to. You’re a big girl now.” Dawn kept a straight face as she spoke. Rhonda’s hopeless crush on Dawn’s older brother had long been a standing joke between them.

  “I’m wounded.” Rhonda flopped dramatically on the bed. “But if it can’t be me, then I’m glad it’s Katie.”

  “Me, too.” Dawn shifted onto the bed and sat cross-legged. The news had really lifted her spirits, especially since she’d been missing Sandy so much. The terrible sadness of the one was offset by the joy of the other. Marriage meant a new beginning, and Dawn was thrilled about the engagement.

  “The wedding was all we talked about yesterday. Me and Mom and Katie spent the afternoon making plans and lists. It’s going to be so much fun, because this time things are just right.”

  “In other words, you mean Darcy, the snob, isn’t his fiancée.”

  “That’s not nice,” Dawn scolded.

  “You never liked Darcy, and you know it.”

  “She just wasn’t the one for Rob.” Dawn also knew that Darcy had never cared much for her. Nothing had ever been said outright, but deep down. Dawn had always suspected that Rob had broken his engagement to Darcy because she couldn’t accept Dawn’s illness.

  “So when’s the wedding?” Rhonda wanted to know.

  “At the end of June. And they’re holding the reception in the conservatory gardens.”

  “Oh, that’s soooo romantic.”

  “Everything’s romantic to you.”

  “I guess you’ll be in the wedding.”

  “Katie’s asked me to be the Maid of Honor.” Dawn beamed a smile.

  “June’s six months away. It seems like forever,” Rhonda lamented.

  “Katie and Mom say there are a million things to do. Katie has to shop for a gown and the bridesmaids’ dresses. She and Rob have to make out a guest list, reserve the church, hire a caterer, decide where to go on their honeymoon, and find an apartment.”

  “A honeymoon. How romantic.” Rhonda was beginning to sound like a broken record. “I will be invited, won’t I?” She sat up and leaned into Dawn’s face.

  “I doubt they’ll want you on their honeymoon.”

  “Very funny.” Rhonda scooted backward. “I mean, I want to come to the wedding.”

  “How could we leave you off the list? Impossible.”

  “Good. I have to plan what to wear. Who knows if a cute guy will show up or not?”

  Rhonda would never change. “Good thing we’ve given you plenty of time.”

  “Have you heard anything from Brent?”

  “He called to wish me a merry Christmas.” She’d already told Rhonda about Brent’s visit, leaving out the part about their discussion of Sandy. Their conversations about Sandy had been too personal, too private. Why was it so easy for her to discuss Sandy with Brent, and yet she felt unable to even mention her name to Jake? She knew it went deeper than the fact that Brent was Sandy’s brother. It was as if she were protecting Jake from the realities of her cancer—as if the truth would somehow drive him away.

  “I’m actually looking forward to school starting,” Rhonda said, changing the subject. “We get to practice driving during driver’s ed. In another two months, I’ll get my license.”

  “Lucky you.” Dawn was excited about school starting again, too, but not because of driver’s ed. Dawn couldn’t wait to see Jake again. She wondered if he thought about her half as much as she thought about him.

  * * * * *

  School had been in session for a week before Dawn saw Jake long enough to talk to him. She was on her way across the campus to driver’s ed, and he was on his way to the gym.

  “How was your holiday?” she asked.

  “All right. And yours?”

  “Fine.” The day was blustery and cold, even though the sun was shining. She hugged her coat closer. “My brother got engaged,” she added, then immediately felt dumb. What could Jake possibly care? He didn’t even know Rob.

  “But you’re still unattached, aren’t you?”

  She glanced at him quickly and saw that he was teasing her.

  “Of course, I am.” She felt her cheeks flush and hoped he’d thin
k the redness was due to the wind. “Doesn’t soccer season start soon?”

  “The first of March. But the team’s practicing every day after school. I heard they’re holding cheerleading tryouts in March. And I remember that you were a great cheerleader. Are you going to try out?”

  Dawn hadn’t even considered it. She figured that since Sharon was the captain, she’d never have a chance. Plus, she still had clinic visits to work into her schedule. “Not this year. I’m not sure I’m one of the squad’s favorite people.”

  Jake stopped and looked at her with surprise. “You’re wrong. A lot of kids in this school admire you. Since that article came out in the paper, plenty of them have asked about you.”

  Terrific, she thought darkly. I’m a celebrity because I had cancer. “I can think of other ways I’d rather be remembered.”

  “People are curious. They want to know more about you.”

  Dawn groaned. It was the last thing she wanted. “Well, do me a favor and tell them it’s not worth knowing about. It was horrible and now it’s over—end of story.” Nervously, she peeked at her watch. “I’ve got to run, or I’ll be late to class.”

  As she hurried off, she realized that she’d probably made a bad impression on Jake. What does it matter? she thought. After all, he had only been making polite conversation on his way to the gym. He’d always think of her as “that girl who had cancer.”

  * * * * *

  “Don’t you just love it?” Katie asked as she led Dawn from room to room in the empty apartment.

  February sunlight poured through double banks of windows in the living room of the old Victorian house that had been converted into apartments. The oak floors needed polishing, and the walls needed painting, but Dawn could see the potential in the spacious rooms with high ceilings and carved doors. “I think it’s super. When will you move in?”

  “Rob and I figure that I can move in next month, and together we can fix it up and buy some furniture. Then he can move in with me after the wedding.”

  Dawn poked her head into one of the rooms. An old-fashioned bathtub with claw feet stood in the middle of the floor, and a pedestal sink stood beside it. “There’s no shower.”

  Katie laughed. “We’re lucky to have working plumbing. This place is over a hundred years old. But we both think it’s so neat.”

  Since graduating, Rob had been working for a local engineering firm, and Katie still had her job at the hospital. It seemed that all they ever talked about was their future. Dawn walked through the bathroom into a smaller area that led to the room Katie had said was the master bedroom. “What’s this space for? It’s too big for a closet.”

  “That’s the nursery. In Victorian times, it often adjoined the main bedroom so the baby could be tended to in the middle of the night.”

  “Cool. Does this mean you and Rob are going to have a baby right away?”

  Katie laughed. “No way! We plan to wait a while.”

  “Don’t wait too long. Who knows, maybe I’ll get married and have a baby right away. Then mine and yours will be close to the same age. Think about it—I’d be an aunt and a mother all at once.” Dawn was joking, but even as she was speaking, she saw Katie’s expression change from one of smiling to one of concern. “What did I say?” Dawn asked. “What’s wrong? Are you thinking I’ll never find a guy who’ll want to marry me?”

  “It’s nothing like that,” Katie said. She took Dawn’s hand sympathetically. “I thought you knew.”

  “Knew what?”

  “Honey, with all the chemo and radiation you’ve had, it’s highly unlikely you’ll ever be able to have children of your own.”

  Fourteen

  “IS WHAT Katie told me the truth, Dr. Sinclair? Will I never be able to have a baby?” Dawn sat in her doctor’s office, her hands gripping the arms of her chair. She’d finished her latest round of blood work that afternoon in the outpatient clinic. Then she’d gone directly to his office to ask him the question that burned in her mind.

  The doctor studied her with a kind face. His hair was gray at the temples, and the lines around his eyes looked deeper than when she’d first become his patient, almost four years before. “Some of your earlier chemo and radiation protocols will have an effect on the reproduction process,” he said.

  She felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. “Then it’s true.”

  “More than likely. It’s possible that you will be able to have children, but it still might not be advisable.”

  Tears sprang instantly to Dawn’s eyes. She glanced away quickly. She’d never thought much about having children. She’d simply figured it was something she’d do eventually—if she got married. If she lived. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

  “Frankly, it never came up. We were never attempting to hide it from you, but you were so sick that it hardly seemed important.” He sighed and leaned back in his swivel chair. “Later on, when it becomes necessary, there will be tests you can take to determine your fertility.”

  “But to never have a family!” she blurted.

  “Dawn, hundreds of couples never have children and still have a very satisfying married life. And there are other options— like adoption, for instance.”

  She almost put her hands over her ears. She didn’t want to hear about “options.” In fact, she didn’t even want to discuss it any further. Here she was, not quite sixteen, and already she was being forced to look into a future that was upside-down and backward. Dawn stood up. “It’s later than I thought. My mom will be looking for me.”

  “Don’t run off. I think you should talk about this. We have trained professionals on staff who can help you come to terms with it.”

  She knew what he was suggesting. She should see one of the hospital’s counselors. Well, she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to face prodding and questioning about her innermost feelings with a stranger. “I’ve got to go.” She left his office as fast as she could.

  In the car, Dawn stared gloomily out the window. Her mother interrupted her dark mood. “Rhonda called to say that she passed her driver’s test and wants to go out for pizza tonight. I told her you were getting blood work done and that you’d call her when you got home. Would you like to go with her tonight? She sure sounded eager.”

  Dawn had forgotten that this was the day Rhonda was going for her driver’s license. How could she have forgotten? Rhonda had talked about nothing else for days. “I’ll call her, but yes, I’d like to go.”

  “Honey, what’s wrong?” Her mother’s voice sounded concerned. “Did everything go all right at the hospital?”

  “Everything went fine.”

  “But I can tell something’s bothering you.” In spite of tolling herself not to cry, Dawn felt a tear trickle down her cheek. Alarmed, her mother pulled over into a grocery store parking lot and turned off the engine. “What’s wrong? Tell me.”

  Haltingly, Dawn revealed what she’d learned. She’d been carrying it around inside of her for weeks, and the discussion with Dr. Sinclair hadn’t helped at all. “I feel like I’ve been robbed,” she told her mother. “As if someone stole something from me, and I can’t get it back.”

  Her mother said nothing.

  “You knew, didn’t you?” Dawn asked. “You and Daddy knew all along. Why did you keep it a secret? Why didn’t you say something to me?” She couldn’t hide the pain of betrayal in her voice.

  “You were thirteen, Dawn, and fighting for your life. It hardly seemed relevant. All that mattered was that you lived. If you’d had a kind of cancer that meant you’d lose an arm or a leg in order to save your life, we’d certainly have agreed. We knew that the medications they were giving you were potent enough to damage or possibly destroy your reproductive system, but at the time, it didn’t matter.”

  “Maybe it would have mattered to me!”

  “Think back. You were a scared little girl, still collecting teddy bears. How could you have made such a choice at that time?”

  Rationally, s
he knew her mother was right. They’d made the only choice they could. She wasn’t angry with her parents. Or her doctors. She was simply angry over what she hadn’t had any choice about. It was the same kind of anger she’d felt when Sandy had died. And Marlee. Helpless, frustrated anger—anger at life because it just wasn’t fair.

  Her mother took a deep breath and touched Dawn’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, honey. I’d give anything if it had been me instead of you.”

  “You would have traded places with me?”

  “In a heartbeat. You’re my daughter, and I love you very much.”

  Dawn felt a softening inside her. She saw that her mother was hurting, and for the first time, she realized how much her illness had affected her whole family. Yet they had survived it. All of them. And for the most part, they were happy. Her parents were together, Rob was getting married, and she was alive. “If some guy ever wants to marry me, what do I tell him?”

  “The truth. If he loves you, it won’t matter.”

  Dawn couldn’t imagine that it wouldn’t matter.

  “Listen,” her mother added, “when I was pregnant with Rob, all my doctor could tell me was that the baby was big and had a strong heartbeat. Now, they can tell if it’s a boy or a girl, if there are genetic defects—why, doctors can even operate on a fetus while it’s still in its mother’s womb.

  “Think about it. Dawn. Who knows what kind of technology they’ll have available by the time you’re completely grown and ready to get married and have a baby? Don’t consider childbirth a closed book for you. You’ve got to think positively. You’ve got to think about what you do have, instead of what you don’t.”

  Hesitantly, Dawn nodded. She knew her mother was right.

  “All right,” she said softly. “I won’t think about it anymore.”

  “You have a wonderful future ahead of you. You’re alive. That’s worth everything.”

  Her mother started the car, and together they drove the rest of the way home in thoughtful silence.