At the graveside after a short prayer, Katherine was approached by Susie's ex-husband. He was a short man, square built, but thin from AIDS. Katherine didn't like his crew cut, his dark beady eyes, or the cocky way he strode up to her.
"You're the lady who writes for The Seattle Times," he said, not asked, in a rough voice.
Katherine nodded tightly.
"No more writing about Susie, okay? We don't need to drag our family through this any longer than necessary." He nodded toward the three who stood on the far side of the grave. Katherine looked over at the two children. They stood with their heads bent low beside a woman with a sour face.
Katherine tried hard not to show her resentment at his complete lack of care about Susie's passing. She spoke in an even tone. "I'd like to write a goodbye to Susie in one column."
He shook his head. "No sense in that. It's best just to leave it be. The sooner we all forget about this, the better for everyone."
Katherine was stunned by his words. Her eyes narrowed, and her voice was laced with contempt. "I will not forget about Susie, Mr. Harylson. And neither will any of her true friends."
His face turned as sour as his mother's. "Just keep her out of the papers, understand?" He turned and strode away. She watched him lead the children to the car, and then they were gone.
When Katherine returned home she went directly to her office and wrote the longest column she'd ever done, all about Susie, then faxed it to The Seattle Times.
***
Darla wasn't herself the days following the funeral. She stayed home, didn't talk much, and walked the beach alone for hours.
"Maybe you should talk to her," Katherine suggested one morning to Denise. "Even Craig doesn't know what's going on with her."
Denise slowly shook her head. "No, it wouldn't do any good. We've never been close like that. She wouldn't tell me the problem even if I asked." Denise looked across the kitchen table at Katherine. "I bet she'd tell you, though."
"Me?" Katherine asked, staring at her in surprise. "Why me?"
"Ever since she found out she has AIDS, you two have created some sort of bond. I can see it in the way you act together. She's closer to you than she and I have ever been. I'm sure if you ask her what's wrong, she'll tell you."
Katherine sat silent a long time, thinking about Denise's words. From deep within, she realized Denise was right. Through the months, she and Darla had become close. It was a different type of friendship than she and Denise shared, but about as close as anyone could be with Darla.
Katherine's expression softened as she looked at her friend and spoke gently. "I think you might be right. Does that bother you?"
Denise offered a small smile. "No. I used to wish I had a sister I could be close to, not a cold, selfish one like Darla. But I have you, and that more than makes up for it."
Their eyes shared words too deep to express. Their smiles seemed to touch across the table. Katherine reached over and placed her hand on Denise's arm. "I'll try to talk to her this afternoon."
Denise nodded her approval.
Darla was sitting on the boulders by the water's edge when Katherine approached her later that day. It was warm out, and the breeze off the Sound felt good. Darla was wrapped in a large, cable knit sweater despite the balmy weather. Katherine couldn't help but notice how small and thin she looked under the bulky sweater.
"Hey," Katherine said as she stepped up to the rocks and found a smooth place to sit. The stone felt warm through her jeans.
"Hey yourself." Darla kept her gaze upon the water. Her face was pale, despite the time she'd spent on the beach. Her hair had grown out over the summer and hung in leftover permed curls to her shoulders, but like her, it looked sparse.
"Nice day, huh?" Katherine asked casually.
"Yup."
"I promised myself I'd spend more time down here this summer, but I didn't get down here much at all. Seems like summer flew by."
Darla simply nodded as she continued staring out at the water.
Katherine sighed, realizing that getting her to talk would be difficult. She took a different approach.
"Denise and I are taking the kids school clothes shopping. Want to come?"
Darla didn't even look at her. She shook her head. "You guys go ahead. Tell Chelsea to take some money out of my top dresser drawer."
Katherine sat another minute in silence, then gave up. "Well, we'll be back later." She rose to leave, but Darla stopped her by placing a hand on her arm.
"Why do you think Susie gave up so easily?" Darla asked, her eyes still searching the blue water beyond.
Katherine stared at her profile but could read nothing of her thoughts in her expression. She sat again. "What do you mean?"
Darla turned to face her. The dark creases under her eyes added years to her face. "She just gave up. She didn't even try to fight it. She was still strong and healthy enough to pull through PCP, but she didn't even try. She just let it take her."
Katherine frowned. "Maybe she wasn't as strong or healthy as we thought. PCP is tough, it can kill easily."
"Carl said she never finished taking her medication from the first time she had pneumonia. And recently she had medication for another sinus infection, but she didn't take that either. It's as if she didn't want to get well."
Katherine sat silent a moment. She hadn't known about the medication. She'd sensed Susie's unhappiness for some time before she died, but she thought the strength of the group would help pull her out of her depression. Apparently, they hadn't been enough. She remembered Susie's words in the hospital the first time she had pneumonia. She turned back to Darla.
"I think Susie was afraid of becoming like Allison."
Darla stared at her, confusion creasing her brow.
"I think she was afraid of getting so sick that she would have to rely on others for her care," Katherine continued. "She adored Allison, but she didn't want to become her. Besides that, I think Susie felt like she'd lost everything. Her kids, her job. Maybe she didn't want to lose her health, too."
"She had us," Darla insisted.
"Maybe that wasn't enough to comfort her."
"It sounds like you agree that she did the right thing, giving up so easily." Darla threw the words at her angrily.
"No, Darla. I don't agree. I'm just trying to make sense of this, too. I don't have all the answers."
The anger faded from Darla's expression as quickly as it had surfaced. She turned to face the water again.
"I won't give up like Susie did," she announced quietly. "I'm going down fighting."
Katherine smiled for the first time since coming down to the beach. "I wouldn't expect any less from you," she said. For a brief instant, their eyes locked. In them, Katherine saw the assurance that Darla would be all right. Katherine rose to leave. "Sure you don't want to come along?"
Darla hugged her sweater close. "No. I have some more thinking to do. You go ahead."
Katherine returned up the stairs to the house. Chelsea was waiting for her in the front entryway. "Where's Mom? Isn't she coming with us?"
Katherine shook her head.
"But she loves to go school shopping," Chelsea insisted. "She talks me into buying stuff she can wear, too. It's her favorite thing to do."
"I'm sorry, hon. She just doesn't feel like coming with us. She's a little depressed about Susie still."
Chelsea thought about this a minute, her face serious. Katherine couldn't help but feel sad that a face so young and pretty had to frown over so many unhappy experiences.
"Okay," she said at last. "I'll pick out stuff I know she'll like so we can share."
Katherine smiled at her thoughtfulness. "That's a great idea," she told the beaming teen. "That's sure to cheer her up."
***
They found Darla lying in her favorite spot on the sofa when they returned from shopping.
"Mom, I can't wait for you to see all the great stuff I bought." Chelsea began pulling out sweaters, skirts, and jeans fr
om her bags and tossing them on the sofa. "I got clothes I thought you'd like, too."
Darla lifted a pink, crochet sweater and tank top. "Ooh, nice," she said, trying her best to sound excited.
"And look, Mom. Wide-legged jeans. You're going to love these."
Darla chuckled. "Do you really think we can wear the same size jeans?"
"You've lost a lot of weight. I bet we can." Chelsea looked around the room as if she'd lost something, then her eyes landed on Chris who was quietly holding his bags, and her face brightened. She stepped back and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him forward.
"Look, Mom. I even talked Chris into buying this cool oversized sweater." She pulled out a cream sweater with one black stripe down the side. "Isn't it great? You should see it on him. He looks like a hunk!"
Chris turned pink.
"I should bring Chelsea shopping all the time," Katherine said, collapsing on the other sofa. "All I can ever get Chris to buy are T-shirts and jeans. She even talked him into a pair of dress pants."
Chelsea beamed, obviously proud of her shopping accomplishments. "Come on, Mom. Let's go up to your room so you can try on some of this stuff."
"Not right now. Maybe later, okay? I want to talk to Kathy and Denise alone for a few minutes."
Chelsea's faced dropped a little, but she only shrugged her shoulders and said, "Okay." She turned to Chris. "Help me bring these to my room, okay?"
After the two disappeared upstairs, Denise sat down on the sofa beside Katherine.
"You look serious," Katherine said to Darla. "What's up?"
Darla took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Her hazel eyes looked gray tonight, her face still deathly pale. "I've been thinking about a lot of things these past few days," she began steadily. "And I've come to a few decisions."
The other two exchanged questioning glances but neither spoke.
"The first thing I want you both to understand is that I'm not giving up. I plan to fight AIDS as long as I can. I'm not Susie."
"We know that," Katherine said firmly.
Darla nodded. "I've decided to stop taking the AZT Cocktail."
Denise's eyes grew wide. "Why? Isn't that supposed to be helping you?"
"Supposed to be, but it's not. Not anymore, anyway. My T-cell count is dropping despite the medication."
Katherine frowned. "What does the doctor say about this?"
"He said it was up to me. The pills aren't working anymore, and I'm tired of taking them. I still ache all over from them and I throw up several times a day. And they're expensive. Even though I only pay a small percentage after insurance, it's more than I can afford. I've decided to quit. In fact, I've already stopped taking them since Monday."
"I didn't realize you were still experiencing side-effects from them," Katherine said. "But if money is the problem, I'm sure Denise and I could help."
Denise nodded her agreement.
Darla shook her head. "It's not just the money. I'm tired of feeling bad, and they're not helping. I've made up my mind."
The room fell silent. Outside, a breeze had picked up, rustling the trees in a chorus of clapping leaves while the bushes brushed their limbs against the house. It was a common sound, one generally heard on any normal summer evening. But the conversation inside the house was anything but normal. Nothing had been normal inside the house for a long time.
Darla spoke again. "I also want to make plans for my death. I want everything taken care of before I can no longer make decisions for myself."
Denise turned pale. "It's too soon for all of this. You have plenty of time," she insisted.
Darla shook her head. "No. I want everything clear now so I don't have to worry about it later. And neither will you."
"Such as?" Katherine asked steadily.
Darla rested appreciative eyes on Katherine for her understanding. "I want to sign legal guardianship of Chelsea over to you and Denise. I know that it's assumed Chelsea will live with Denise and Gary after I'm gone, but I want it done legally. Then, when I'm sick, I'll know that it's taken care of."
"Why both of us?" Katherine asked, surprised. "Denise should be the only one."
"I don't think it's fair placing all the responsibility of raising Chelsea on Denise alone. I'd like for both of you to have a say in her life. I think she'll need that."
Katherine looked over at Denise. "Are you okay with that?"
She nodded. "Actually, I'd feel better knowing we were both involved. I've never raised a child by myself. I'd probably be asking your advice anyway."
Darla nodded her approval. "Fine. We'll take care of that immediately. There's some money I've put aside and a small life insurance policy, but not much more to help you. Some of it will have to cover the funeral."
Denise raised her hands as if to block the words. "No more talk about this. I won't talk about a funeral, yet. One thing at a time, please."
Darla obliged and they all sat silent, each knowing that it wouldn't be long before the decisions of a funeral would be necessary.
Chapter Twenty-Two
As August slowly burst into the brilliant colors of September, Darla's health gradually faded. Simple colds, sinus infections, and deep coughing took their toll on her already weakened body, sapping her energy but not her spirit. As promised, Darla fought hard to stay moving, even when all she felt like doing was pulling up the covers and staying in bed.
Craig awoke with a cold one day that turned into an infection, the beginning of a long line of health problems. For months, he'd been spared the poor health related to AIDS but now it was catching up with him. Like Darla, he wouldn't sit still and let it overcome him. Together, they continued volunteering at Bingo night along with Carl, and the three met regularly during the week at the house, both out of habit and a need to keep their little group together. They missed the presence of their lost friends and needed the comfort of routine, and each other, to keep their spirits up.
Chris celebrated his thirteenth birthday late in August and right after Labor Day the kids started seventh grade. Chris slid into his school schedule easily, but Katherine noticed a change in Chelsea's attitude toward school. Whereas last year she was always eager for a new day to begin, this year she seemed distracted and distant, dragging around in the morning as if she didn't want to go. When Katherine asked her how things were at school, Chelsea just scrunched her shoulders and replied, "Fine." Denise noticed the change in her, too, but both women marked her moodiness down to being a teenager.
Katherine's column in The Seattle Times continued, but ran bimonthly now. She wrote less about the members of the group and more about Jeff's fundraisers and AIDS resources in the area. She was also writing more feature articles for the paper on other health related subjects. Katherine loved the freedom the newspaper gave her with her articles. She'd pitch an idea to the editor and he usually accepted it, giving her complete control on the topic. She finally felt that she was growing as a writer and her work was appreciated. Katherine felt like she was making a difference.
As September came to a close, Darla caught the flu and had to be hospitalized for dehydration. Katherine took care of her when she was released because Darla was too weak to get in and out of bed alone. Carl came over every evening to visit Darla, but Craig was too sick from a head cold to come over, which added to Darla's worries. They talked on the phone, but it was hard on them not spending time together.
The last day of September was unseasonably hot and Katherine's nerves were stretched to the limit between caring for Darla and making her deadline on an article about hospital care. The phone broke the silence in her office, irritating her more, and she answered with a sharp, "Hello."
"Is this Mrs. Samuals, Chris Samuals' mother?" a woman's voice inquired.
Katherine's irritation quickly turned to concern. "Yes, it is."
"Mrs. Samuals, I'm calling from the principal's office at Whitman Middle School. If you would please hold a minute, I'll transfer you to Principal Spheres.
Kathe
rine waited anxiously for what seemed to like an eternity. Never had she received a call from the principal's office about Chris. He was a straight 'A' student and had never been in any kind of trouble. She was worried that he'd been hurt.
"Mrs. Samuals? This is Principal Spheres," a deep voice finally came over the line. "Your son, Chris, was involved in an altercation today and we have no alternative but to suspend him from school for the next three days. We need you to come down to sign him out of school and take him home."
Katherine's mouth fell open. She couldn't believe she'd heard right. "Chris did what?"
"He was in a fight, Mrs. Samuals," the principal answered in his monotone voice. "Don't worry, he's fine. But we need you to come to the school, please."
"I'll be right there," she told him, hanging up the phone and rushing out the door.
Within minutes, Katherine was at the school and entering the principal's office. Chris looked up at her sheepishly as Mr. Spheres rose to shake her hand. Katherine hardly noticed the round man behind the desk as her attention went directly to Chris.
"What happened?" she asked her son, concern in her voice as she sat down beside him.
"It seems," Principal Spheres interrupted in a smug tone, "that your son got into a fight over a girl."
Katherine stared up at him. She didn't like the amused smile on his pudgy face. "I'd like to hear my son explain what happened," she told him.
Principal Spheres drew back from her sharp tone, surprised.
"Tell me what happened, Chris," Katherine urged him, her voice softer.
Chris spoke quietly. "Some boys were teasing Chelsea in the hall between classes and I tried to stop them."
Principal Spheres cleared his throat triumphantly. "As I said, Mrs. Samuals," he began, but stopped when he caught the sharp glance Katherine threw his way. He shifted his bulk uncomfortably in his chair.
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