by Chris Myers
Rena’s not all that dark. Her face turns scarlet. “You did not just say that.”
Kelly spins around to face Rena. Zach has made it to the passenger side. I can’t believe Kelly would say anything so awful. Racist bitch.
It’s muddy where she’s standing. Her heels are stuck in the goo. I knee her from behind. It catches her just enough off balance in those heels. She falls backward, her arms pinwheeling as she splats into the muck. I can honestly say I don’t feel bad about her destroyed white wool coat.
Rena and I look at each other and burst out laughing.
Kelly’s screaming. “I can’t believe you did that. Jinx, you’re like a freakish little munchkin with all that orange hair.”
Zach offers to help Kelly up.
“This is all your fault.” She takes off her heels and climbs out of the mud. Slimy goo cakes her coat and sticks to her hair.
“Can you get a ride home with your friends?” Zach says to her.
Kelly shoves him, muddying his jacket with her paw prints. “Did you just tell me to get my own ride?”
“Yes. I want to talk to Jinx. We have a lot to discuss.”
Kelly stabs a finger at him and stamps her big feet, her face disbelieving. “Are you breaking up with me?”
“We don’t really belong together. We never did.”
Kelly hobbles off barefoot into Candor’s. Iz and Gabby are on their way out. They watch her return to the bar. Their mouths gape open, and they point at her and giggle. Kelly rants all the way inside.
“Why don’t we go somewhere else?” Zach asks. “It is your birthday.”
He remembered and that soaks my heart with warmth.
“Zach,” I say. “Rena’s taking me to her house since I’m now homeless.”
“You can come over to my house. My parents aren’t home. I mean…” His face blushes. He’s still sweet Zach, maybe not so innocent anymore, but he’s not as forward as Lennon.
“We can go dance a bit…if you want, but I’m going home with Rena.” I hesitantly wait for his reaction.
Zach takes my hand. “I’d like that.”
Before we go back in, I check my cell. I don’t know why, but I was hoping to hear from Lennon to see how Currie’s doing. I’ll check with Danny and Susan later.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
LENNON
A team of paparazzi swarms us at the airport before we get through security. Jonathan doting over his dying child provides him with good press.
We are no sooner on Jonathan’s Learjet, when Mom orders champagne. Only she would think her reunion with Jonathan warrants a celebration, especially when the flight to Milwaukee only takes ten minutes. That gives her enough time to get through a few glasses on his dime.
Before we left the house, I made Currie change into pajamas, so she’d be comfortable on the plane and for her last few hours of wakefulness.
The Nowaks took Harry, and I left Jinx standing at the hospital to deal with her stepfather alone—her red hair, the flame in the darkness. That eats away at me.
Tears rim Currie’s eyes. “My head hurts.”
After I give her more Tylenol, Currie curls up on my lap and goes to sleep. My arms fold around her. I’m slowly dying inside. Doctor Timmons said there’s a twenty percent chance Currie will survive. Those odds slash and burn in the pit of my stomach.
If it isn’t bad enough that I’m most likely going to lose her, I have to share these last few moments with the two of them, Jonathan and Heather. I’m not sure what I’ll do if Currie dies or how I’ll face it alone. If Jinx were here…
She held my hand in the hospital cafeteria as I confessed my first time. Her concern surprised and warmed me. I left out how much it hurt when I realized that older woman didn’t give a rat’s ass about me. That she had sold me out.
I have to focus on Currie instead of wallowing in self-pity.
The nurse Jonathan hired lounges in a comfortable chair and sips on a ginger ale. She has done nada.
I’ve never seen Denage before and Currie hasn’t spoken much about her, probably for Mom’s sake. Denage sits up straight with her long legs folded underneath her. She’s an elegant woman, not drop-dead gorgeous, but sophisticated and intelligent looking, not at all Jonathan’s type.
Jonathan holds her hand while they sit close to each other. Mom’s infusion of alcohol into her bloodstream and her tight fist around the flute can only mean she’s uncomfortable and unhappy about Jonathan’s coupling with Denage, especially after Heather got all dolled up for him.
I’m afraid to open my mouth because of what may come out. It will only upset Currie, and I can’t do that to her. I stare outside until we land. When the hatch opens, I pick up Currie and carry her to the awaiting limo. She doesn’t once wake up, and that frightens me.
The limo drives us to the Children’s Hospital. It’s a megaplex with multiple tiers.
Jonathan speaks quietly to Denage. “Where should we go?”
“Admissions are in that building over there,” she says, pointing at the largest one.
We pull up to the front. I get out and carry Currie into the hospital.
“Doctor Yeager is expecting Currie Tyler,” I say to the staff at the front desk.
A nurse comes around the desk. She observes the bodyguards and Jonathan but doesn’t comment on them. “We’ll fill out the paperwork later. Let’s get her upstairs right away. The doctor has been preparing for her arrival.”
I already like this hospital. No waiting. “I released the paperwork from the hospital in Naperville. They performed several tests already.”
“Doctor Yeager has received the results and will discuss them with you.” The nurse feels Currie’s forehead. “How are you feeling?”
Currie blearily opens her eyes. “My head.”
“Doctor Yeager is a specialist with the rabies virus. He’ll do his best to make you all better.”
I appreciate the honesty in the nurse’s words. She hasn’t promised what the doctor may not be able to deliver.
The nurse leads us to a room that doesn’t have a bed but is used for examining patients. The antiseptic odor overwhelms me. I hate hospitals.
“Do you feel good enough to stand so I can take your weight?” the nurse asks Currie.
“I don’t think I can.”
After putting Currie into a chair, I get on the scales. “We’ll subtract my weight.”
The nurse takes my weight of two hundred and ten. I pick up Currie and get back on the scales. She weighs one hundred. She’s lost weight. Currie is almost five feet and will probably be tall and thin like Mom.
“Would you hold her while I get her blood pressure and temperature?” the nurse asks.
“Sure.” I sit down with Currie cradled in my arms and roll up her sleeve. She buries her face in my shoulder.
“Let’s get you into the doctor now.” The nurse herds us to another room. It’s the usual stark white with a bed and rollaway tray and bathroom. This one has several monitors. I lay Currie in the bed. She doesn’t let go of my hand. Her fright digs into me.
A tall burly man wearing a white coat strides into the room while reading a chart. “I’m Dr. Yeager.”
I stand up and introduce myself.
Yeager glances around the room. The nurse, Jonathan, Denage, myself, Mom, and two bodyguards stand in it. Jonathan released the nurse he hired upon our arrival.
Yeager feels Currie’s neck. “Does that hurt?”
“A little.” Her face puckers. “It’s my head that hurts.”
“We’ll do our best to take care of that.” He checks her eyes and listens to her heart using the stethoscope. “I’d like to get started as soon as possible. Who’s Currie’s guardian?”
“I am,” I say.
“We’re the parents.” Jonathan steps forward. Mom goes to his side.
“I have legal rights to Currie,” I say.
“You have primary custody?” Yeager asks.
“That was never established
.” It will be when I turn eighteen. “I have attorney rights for the primary care of my sister.”
Yeager gestures us outside. “Why don’t we take this matter to my office?”
Currie grips my hand. “Don’t go. I’m scared.”
“I’ll only be a moment,” I say. “There’s always a mountain of paperwork to fill out. You know that.”
I hand her the remote control. “Push the red button if you need me and have the nurse come get me.”
“Promise,” Currie says.
“I won’t leave you.” I go with my parents and Denage. The bodyguards stay outside Currie’s room at Jonathan’s request.
When we are all seated in his office, the doctor says, “I need the person legally responsible for Currie to sign these forms. I know that Lennon contacted me from Naperville and signed for everything that was done there. How old are you, son?”
“Seventeen.” I slide over the document, granting me Currie’s legal rights that Mom signed in a drunken stupor. Shortly after Jonathan left, Currie fell ice-skating and twisted her ankle. I took her to the ER. Clive’s mom went by the house and had Mom sign over attorney rights to me. It was best for Currie.
“I’ve never given up my rights,” Jonathan says in a calm voice.
“No,” I say. “You just abandoned us.” I spin around toward him with all the fury of a grizzly bear waking from hibernation. “I don’t get you. You barely exist to either of us.”
“I’ve exercised my visiting rights since I’ve left. I’ve given up nothing.”
“What do you mean? You gave us both up. You’ve never once been there for us. Either one of you.” I point at Heather then Jonathan. “Why don’t you get on your Learjet and fly home? We don’t need you. Currie hasn’t needed you since the day she was born. The health insurance is even under my name.”
Jonathan steeples his fingers. Denage gives him an encouraging nod. What is she, his personal advisor?
Why does her name sound familiar? That’s right. She used to be his therapist, and now they’re screwing. Great. That’s all I need. Nothing like messing around with your patients. She should’ve lost her license.
Jonathan stares at his lap. “You’re right. I wasn’t a good parent, but I’d never give up my rights to you or Currie.”
“It’s a little late for that, Jonathan,” I say, my hands sweating as they clench and unclench in my lap. “I’m almost eighteen, and right now, I don’t have time for your nonsense.”
Mom is mute throughout all this. If she could crawl under Yeager’s desk, I’m sure she would. Embarrassment for her lack of parenting flames her cheeks as she shrinks into her chair.
The doctor reads over the document I gave him. “When did Currie first show any signs of being sick?”
“Yesterday,” I say. “She felt tired, and this morning she had a really bad headache.”
“Has she had any seizures?”
“No.”
“When did you find out the animals were infected?” he asks.
Now, it’s my turn for my cheeks to burn. “Today, but the Humane Society took brain samples from the kittens almost two weeks ago. Everyone on their staff has had rabies shots.”
“That’s good. Currie has a better chance than many who have come for treatment before her. We’ll run a few more tests. I’d like for Lennon and Jonathan Tyler to sign. The sooner we get started the better.”
I sign immediately because Doctor Timmons in Naperville covered Yeager’s procedure with me. He highly recommended him and said his technique is the most advanced in the country.
Jonathan reads it over. “This says she only has a twenty percent chance with this protocol, and that it’s experimental. I can’t sign this. Can’t she have the rabies shots?”
“If Currie had been brought in before she exhibited symptoms, her odds would be better, and we could’ve treated her with a typical protocol, but it’s too late for that now.”
“Rabies is treatable,” Jonathan says.
“Once a person shows signs of rabies, it’s almost always fatal,” the doctor says. “I’ve developed a procedure to treat infected patients. I’ve had some success and each time improves the last.”
“What happens if Currie doesn’t receive this treatment?” Jonathan asks.
“She’ll die,” Yeager says.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
LENNON
I grab Jonathan by his throat. “You’ll sign those papers now. As far as I’m concerned you can crawl back into whatever hole you crawled out of.”
Mom stumbles backward. Denage reaches for my arm, but I shove her back with my free hand.
Jonathan doesn’t look as shocked as the doctor. “There’s no need for that,” Yeager says, bolting upright and knocking over his chair.
“It’s okay,” Jonathan says. “What if she dies from this protocol, and we haven’t done our homework.”
“Well, Dad. While you were smoking crack cocaine and shooting up heroin, I was taking care of Currie. I spoke to several doctors, and they all agree this is her best shot. You’re either in or you’re going back home. We’ve done just fine without you.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” For the first time since he arrived, Jonathan looks me in the eye. “I just want to know all my options.”
I bolt out of my chair and jerk his face toward mine, using his shirt collar. “This is the only option.”
Jonathan stands up. He bores his gaze into mine for a long time. For a moment, sadness shadows his face. He relaxes, and when I loosen my grip, he leans over the papers and signs.
“Do I need to sign anything?” Mom asks.
“That won’t be necessary.” The doctor gets up. “Let’s get started.”
I return to Currie’s room. She looks at me expectantly. “Am I going to be okay?”
I sit down on her bed. I won’t lie to her. “Remember when Zoe had to be put under for her bone marrow transplant?”
Currie nods. Her dark eyes shine. Fear runs across her face and claws at my chest. I can’t take this, but I have no choice.
“The doctor will make you sleep,” I say. “You’ll be asleep for several days while they give you antivirals to attack the rabies.”
“Will I die?” Her voice shakes.
My throat tightens. “There’s always that possibility, but your chances are good.”
The scent of shampoo clings to her hair. I inhale it. The smell takes me back to when she was a baby. I want to pick her up and protect her from all the bad in the world. If I’d called Kiki back, Currie would not be here.
Currie throws her arms around me. “If I die, don’t put me in the ground. Promise me.”
I kiss the top of her forehead. “I won’t, but that’s not going to happen.”
Both her hands clutch one of mine. “Don’t leave me.” Her head leans against my chest. Her warmth soaks into me.
“I won’t. I’ll stay by your side until you wake. I’m going outside to get my things though, before you fall asleep, but I’ll be right back.”
Currie trembles. “Don’t be long.”
“Have I ever let you down?”
“Yes. You forgot to pick me up twice for dance.”
“That was when I was fifteen, and once I was in jail for driving illegally to come get you.”
“No excuses this time,” she whimpers.
Mom comes over and sits on the other side of her bed. “It’s okay. Mommy’s here.”
Currie gives her a sour look. Heather smiles as if nothing’s wrong. Currie knows it took Mom two hours to get to the hospital in Naperville. The sad thing is Currie will eventually forgive and forget. I did that when I was little, but that got old fast. You can only forgive so much.
“We’ll wait here with you, Honey,” Jonathan says, “while Lennon gets his things. Okay?”
“Yes, Daddy.” Currie clings to him, and this really pisses me off. Hurt needles my chest.
I trudge out of the room and take the elevator. A nurse with the nametag
of Betsy smiles at me. I don’t respond to her because I’m numb inside.
The limo driver waits outside right in the fire lane. Typical Jonathan.
I gesture for him to open the trunk, and the driver pops the back. I grab my duffel and my twelve string Taylor. “Go park the car.”
“Mr. Tyler said to wait here.”
“You’re parked in the fire lane, so move it.”
The driver gets in and finds a spot not too far away. As I turn around to go back in, Denage startles and stops me. “Can we talk?”
“What for?” I break my promise to Currie and say, “You’ve got to be pretty messed up to be with this fucked up family. What’s wrong with you? You’re psychoanalyzing my dad, then you screw him. That’s pretty sick.” I wait for the slap, but it doesn’t come.
“Your father was briefly under my care.” When she reaches for my shoulder, I slap her hand away.
“I know that your dad let you down all those years,” she says.
I laugh. “Let me down. That’s the understatement of the year. He didn’t exist for my sister or me. He didn’t even want us.”
Her espresso eyes rake over me. “That’s not true.”
“He wanted Mom to have an abortion when she was pregnant with both of us.”
“He never wanted that,” Denage says.
“Wow. Jonathan, really has you fooled.” I study the black pearls in her ears. “Did Jonathan buy you those earrings? You might want to make sure they’re real. Gifted pearls are an ongoing joke in our family. Did he take you to Cabo, too? He does that a lot when he wants to bed a woman.”
Denage flinches. Rage darts across her eyes along with tiny gold flecks from the street lamps.
“You are not special,” I say. “You are just one of many Tyler women.”
She takes in a sharp breath before her face finally softens. “Lennon, I know for a fact that your father did not want an abortion. It took him many long hours of therapy to come to terms with the reality that his mother tried to abort him with a clothes hanger. She died shortly after, but your dad lived. Jonathan’s dad used to beat him senseless, telling him how his mother never wanted him and that Jonathan had killed her. I know that doesn’t give him an excuse for what he did to you and Currie, but he had to deal with his own demons before he could ever be a parent. Jonathan wants to make it up to you both.”