“You talked to Jaron?” I didn't want him talking to anyone but me.
“Only because when you filled out the forms in my office, you said it was okay.” Dr. Watts still seemed relaxed and pleased that we were all here together.
Right. I remembered. Maybe I'd change it. “So, when can I leave?”
“When your IV bag is empty.” He glanced at Jaron. “Your brother is going to keep a close eye on you for a few days. Your blood work looks clean as far as cancer indicators go, but you really need to keep up on your vitamins. And if you're not sleeping, Leigh, take a pill. I got you a refill. Feel free to only take them in halves, but not tonight. Tonight take the whole thing.” I liked Dr. Watts. As much as I hated the situation, I liked his relaxed demeanor. He didn't talk to me like a normal doctor, but his instructions were meant to be followed.
“What are you doing in Provo?” I realized suddenly that he didn't belong there. His office was in Salt Lake. It didn't make any sense.
“I live here.” He laughed. “It's my day off. I don't normally spend my hospital days in jeans and sweatshirts.” He looked down at himself.
“Oh.” I hadn't even noticed what he wore. “You came to see me on your day off?”
“You're one of my patients, Leigh, and I live just around the corner. My office called.”
“Oh,” I said again. It felt like a lot, him going out of his way like that.
“I know you don't want this to be a big deal, Leigh, but it is a big deal. Your body won't get better if you don't give it rest.” He looked at me with honest concern.
I felt properly chastised and just wanted to go home. “Understood.”
“So, call me if you need anything, okay?” He reached out and touched my knee.
“It looks like I don't have to.” I gestured to the fact that he stood here in my hospital room.
He laughed and started for the door. “Don't make me see you like this again, Leigh. Take those pills we both know you love so much.” The door closed behind him.
“Help me turn this thing up. I want out of here.” I leaned over and found the dial on the tube between my IV bag and my arm.
“Are you supposed to do that?” Jaron asked.
“Shall we compare how many times I've had a needle in my arm to how many times you've had a needle in your arm?” I looked over at him. He rolled his eyes at me and leaned back in his chair. “Besides, this is just fluid, the worst thing that'll happen is my arm will feel a little cold.”
Jaron raised his hand up between us. He didn't want to hear any more.
Once I moved the dial up, I sat and looked at Jaron in the chair next to me. How had I not thought of this first? “You didn't tell Mom and Dad, did you?” If they knew, they might be tempted to keep me home next semester.
The look he gave me said it all. Of course he did. I laid my head back, exasperated.
“Come on, Leigh. I can't not tell them when you pass out.”
Ugh. He was probably right. I remained silent.
“I did downplay it… a lot. You owe me.”
“I'm sure I will.” I lay there and stared at the ceiling. I checked my IV. “Great, it's done. Now we can go home.” I really wanted out of that hospital.
I pushed the button for the nurse. She came in and slid the needle out of my arm. She gave me a dirty look that said, “I know you messed with something,” but she didn't say a word.
I smiled in return and happily climbed off the bed. I stumbled once toward Jaron, my legs still weak. He caught me and took me under his arm.
He opened his mouth to say something.
“Save your breath. Yes, I'm up to this. I'll be fine. I just want to go home.” I tried not to breathe in too deeply, as if the horrid hospital air would follow me home if I did.
“Don't you have class?” I asked as we stepped outside.
“I missed class because this is more important.”
I felt a pang of guilt. “I'm sorry, Jaron.” I knew I probably could have prevented it.
“Don't worry about it, Leigh.” We took a few steps in silence. “I'm sure you're going to be mad at me over this, but it's just a suggestion.”
What could he want?
He held my arms tightly so I could use him to get in the car. He'd driven me home after chemo treatments enough times to know what kind of help to give me.
He stood still and looked at me through the open door. “I think you should talk to your math professors. They'd probably give you an incomplete, which would buy you some time, and you might be able to talk them into giving you a withdrawal, which won't affect your GPA. I know it isn't what you want to do, but it's an option.”
Jaron walked around to his side of the car, and I reflected on how much time and thought and energy I gave to my family compared to how much they probably gave me. I sat quiet as Jaron walked around his car. I wouldn't finish the semester as a full-time student. It was a low blow.
Jaron climbed in and started his car.
“I'm sorry. When I decided that I wanted to go to school earlier than the doctor suggested, I didn't think about what it would be like for the rest of you. It just seemed like the easiest thing, you know? Only twelve credits, living next door to you… But Mom and Dad paid all this money, and you're stuck babysitting your little sister.” I put my fingers on the outsides of my eyes to rub away the tears before they ran down my cheeks.
“Leigh…” Jaron started to say, shaking his head, “it's not like that…”
“No. It's exactly like that, Jaron.” I didn't want to talk anymore.
“You just wanted to be out here living.” Of course he understood.
“Yeah.” I felt heavy still and completely drained, physically and emotionally.
“Leigh, maybe this isn't the time to bring this up, but have you given any more thought to changing your major?” He started toward home.
“I think I've suffered enough for one day. Can we leave it alone?” I pulled my legs onto the seat and wrapped my arms tightly around my stomach.
He nodded.
“I wasn't asking for a lesson in humility today.”
“We never are.” He laughed quietly and kept driving.
“You know, Jaron, you're a decent brother.”
“Wait.” He was about to tease me, I could tell. The corners of his mouth always twitched a little. I needed it. “I sat with you at the hospital, half-lied to Mom and Dad to keep you up here and them down there, and I'm decent?”
“Fine.” I rolled my eyes. “You're the best.” It was times like this that the loss of Joseph hit me. But I couldn't help but wonder if it was also why Jaron and I were so close. Maybe we both tried to make up for the absence of our older brother.
Jaron took a deep breath, gearing up to tell me something. “Now, don't be mad. It's part of what's keeping Mom and Dad away.”
“Oh no.” I could feel my chest sink.
“I promised to keep a close eye on you for a day or two.”
“How close?” I narrowed my eyes as we pulled up the driveway.
“I don't want to make your roommates uncomfortable, so you'll be stuck in my bed for a night or two.”
“You're kidding.” That would bring an unwanted amount of attention from the neighbors.
“I'm not.”
“And this is supposed to help me sleep?” I asked incredulously.
“No, but these will.” He pulled a small plastic bottle from the inside of his coat.
I sighed. “Can't we just say we did?” His eyes shifted to mine and then away again.
I was making things hard for him again. “Never mind.” I slid off my seat belt. “Thanks.”
My legs shook as he started to help me out of the car. I didn't know if I was still that tired or if they'd given me something at the hospital. It should be the simplest thing. Stand up, get out of the car, and walk down the stairs. Jaron had to help with all of it.
“I'm under doctor's strict orders to feed you and keep you still.” Jaron smiled. �
��Would you like mac and cheese or ramen noodles?” he teased.
“Crown Burger?” I asked.
“I should've thought of that.” He pulled his cell out of his jeans pocket. “Let me call Brian. He should be on his way home right now.”
“I don't want to bother anyone.” I didn't want Brian to have to make a special stop, just for me.
“Sure you do, Leigh.” He winked.
I looked wistfully over at my apartment through his kitchen window as Jaron dialed Brian's number.
“Brian! It's Jaron… Yeah, I missed class… Leigh needed a ride, and she'll be crashing at our place for a couple of days… Yeah… Not good. Can I ask a favor? Could you run to Crown Burger on your way home? I'll pay you back… Both of us… I'd like… yep, that's me, and Leigh wants… yeah, wow, impressive. We'll see you in a few. Thanks, man.” And he hung up the phone.
I grabbed the remote, turned on the TV, tried to ignore the spinning room, and waited for my food to arrive. I slid deep into the couch.
“I'm here!” Brian came through the door, bursting bags from Crown Burger in his hands.
“Thanks,” Jaron said from the kitchen.
I sat up a little. “Thanks, Brian.”
“So, I hear you're stuck with us for a few days.” He stuffed a few fries into his mouth, like this was no big deal. Like I was always crashing in on them, just for fun. “You look terrible.”
“Wow. Thanks.”
Brian shrugged and smiled at me in his friendly way. It made the situation feel easier, more normal.
“My guess is that me being here is how Jaron's keeping my parents in St. George, where they should be.” My eyes shifted to Jaron, who nodded once without looking at me. I was grateful to him again.
“Well, thanks to you, neither of us has to cook tonight.” Brian chuckled and sat down at the table with his food. Jaron brought mine to me.
After I ate, Jaron handed me a pill. I sighed and took it from him, wondering how long I'd be out.
I heard them talking as I drifted off.
“Mom wasn't happy about me telling her she shouldn't come, so I promised I'd stick close, but I can't all the time…”
“It's fine, Jaron. I don't mind sticking around.”
“Thanks.”
At some point, Jaron carried me from the couch into his room. The dumb pills completely wiped me out. I slept hard.
Sometime the next morning, my brain registered light, but I couldn't wake up. Like one of those dreams where you want to open your eyes and can't. Just another reason to hate the pills. I gave up and drifted back off. A while later, I could feel Jaron touching my hair, pulling it from my face and off my neck. He rubbed his hand across my shoulders a few times. It felt good. I rolled onto my stomach. I was pulled out of my dream long enough to feel relaxed and well taken care of, but the warmth of his hands on my stiff body pulled me under again.
I opened my eyes and immediately closed them again. My lids felt like sandpaper. I rolled onto my back, keeping my eyes closed and pressing my fingers against the lids, as if the pressure would somehow produce some tears for lubrication. I blinked a few times. Light came from around the cracks of the blanket Jaron had pinned up around his window. I stretched my arms high above my head. It hurt my sides and back, which made me wonder how long I'd slept.
I stood up slowly and walked to the bathroom, keeping a hand against the wall. I wasn't sure how shaky I'd be. Every movement took more effort than normal. I stood in front of their mirror. I looked terrible. My hair stuck in all directions around my head, and my face looked reddish and puffy. About what I expected.
I walked back to Jaron's room and dragged my blanket to the couch. Brian sat at the table with his laptop and looked up at me as I walked in.
“I feel like the last thing you want me to ask is how are you, but…” He cracked a smile.
“I'll tell you in a few minutes.” I sat on the couch and pulled my feet up. I felt okay. Better than I expected—only slightly drugged, not completely wiped. I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, resting my head on the arm of the couch.
Brian set a glass of water on the table next to me.
I looked up, “Thanks.”
“Yep.” He turned back to his work.
I sat up after a while, starting to care a little what I watched.
“Hey, Leigh, can I ask you something?” Brian still sat at the table.
“What?” I turned on the couch to face him.
“You have some sewing patterns drawn out, right? Ones you came up with?”
“Yeah, loads. Why?”
“Well, I just realized that I can do something that may help both of us.”
“What's that?” I sat up a little further on the couch.
“I have to draw some things into an Adobe file. I think using some of your patterns would be perfect.”
“Why would I care if my patterns were on the computer?”
“Well, if you ever wanted to sell your patterns, you could sell them as an Adobe file so when they're purchased they download automatically or can be emailed as an attachment.”
“You'd do that for me?” I asked.
“Well, yeah. I'm allowed extra credit in the class I have a B in. I really need an A. I rely a lot on scholarship money because the Army doesn't cover everything.”
“The class you have a B in?”
“Yeah.” The way he smiled told me he was a little proud of himself for that. He should be.
I had no idea he was such a good student. I felt like a slacker. I had an A in Art History and Institute, but the grades in both math classes were probably dismal. “That would actually be awesome.”
“Do you know where they are?” he asked.
“What, you're going to work on it right now?”
“Finals are like, now and next week, so yeah, right now.”
“Well, let me get them for you.” I started to get up.
“Um, never mind.” He shook his head and looked back down at his computer.
“Are you afraid to let me walk over there? Is that how closely Jaron wants me watched?”
The corners of his mouth twitched a little.
“Wow, I'm more of a prisoner here than I thought.” I flopped back down on the couch.
“Maybe you could tell me where they are?” he suggested.
“Are you allowed to leave me?” I shot him a look over the back of the couch.
Brian stared at me, the same smirk on his face, waiting for my answer.
“They're on the second shelf over my sewing table. The bin is labeled.” As was everything else. I wondered what he would think of my tidy room.
“Thanks.” He half-jumped out of his seat and went out the door.
I started to think about patterns that already had instructions with them and things that wouldn't be too difficult to put into the computer—though I had no idea what would be difficult to put into a computer. I knew I had some bag patterns I'd passed along to a few cousins… those might work.
Brian came back with a box and a smile on his face.
“What?” I asked.
“Your room is perfectly organized.”
“Oh, come on. You've seen it before.” I laughed a little, embarrassed.
“Yeah, but I never paid attention before.”
“And yours isn't?” I asked.
“My closet isn't color coordinated, no.”
“No, your closet is full of hanging T-shirts,” I said back.
“Yes, it is.”
“So, you have a ton in here.” He sat on the floor in front of me, the box between us. “Any ideas?”
I leafed through my Ziploc bags of patterns. I pulled five out. “Just look these over and see which ones you think would be easiest for you. I have instructions and measurements on the patterns, if that makes a difference.”
“Thanks, Leigh. This is great.” He took the bags from me and stood up.
“I have a feeling that I should be thanking you.”
&nb
sp; Brian spread the pieces out on the table and opened up his laptop. In minutes he was completely engrossed. He'd shift the pieces around and see what I had written and then he'd be back to his laptop again. The thought of being able to email sewing patterns was very cool. I turned back to the TV and fell asleep on the couch watching an old episode of MASH.
seventeen
I sat down at my favorite sewing machine—well, the one I always ended up on. I came to the theater department to help finish up some of the smaller things like hems and buttons for “The Christmas Carol.” I was in the middle of a hem when I heard a voice calling my name.
“I'm looking for Leigh?” I pried my eyes off my project. I hadn't even noticed that there were two other girls in the room with me, also working on machines.
“That's me.” My eyes met with an incredibly good-looking man. His hair was almost black, brushed off his face in a purposefully messy way. His eyes reflected the same soft green as mine. I had to remind myself to breathe. He was only a little taller than me and leanly built, with high cheekbones, a perfectly straight nose, and an incredible smile of perfectly placed white teeth. Like something right off the cover of GQ standing in front of me in the basement of the theater building.
“Wow, great. You're the freshman genius then.”
“What?” I asked, not following.
“That's what I've been told. Leigh, freshman genius, does wonders with fabric.” He stepped closer to me. His smile was unfaltering.
“Well, I guess there are worse things. What can I help you with?” I tried not to stare.
“I'm Bob Cratchit in the show, and nobody can get my pants right. I hoped you could help me?” He cocked his head a little sideways, but his eyes never left mine.
“I'll do my best.” I looked him over again. He wore a plain white T-shirt, slim leg jeans, and a great lightweight jacket. He ran his hand through his dark hair, and I realized that I'd probably been staring too long. I glanced to my left; the other two girls in the room were watching him—at least I wasn't the only one distracted.
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