Kathleen's Story
Page 15
Kathleen hadn’t even considered such details. Her mother had handled these things for years. “All right,” she said.
“If I don’t make it through, I’ve agreed to let the Harrisons take care of you. You will live with them at least until you’re eighteen, so that you can finish high school. Actually, Evelyn suggested this…she’s a kind, thoughtful woman. Raina’s mother volunteered to take you too, but I think the Harrisons are better prepared for such a job. And what with Hunter graduating and leaving for college next year, they’ll have space to spare, according to Evelyn.”
By now Kathleen’s eyes were filling with tears. The deadly seriousness of what she and her mother were facing had slammed into her head-on. If her mother died, she would be an orphan— motherless, fatherless—alone. She was terrified.
“Now, having said all that,” Mary Ellen added, taking her daughter’s hand, “I want you to know something else. I don’t want to die tomorrow. In fact, when I was lying on that kitchen floor, praying for help, before I blacked out, I realized that more than anything in this world, I want to live. I want to see you finish growing up. I want to see your children.
“Maybe I’ve not often given you the impression that I wanted to go on living, what with the MS and…and the loss of your dad.” She picked up Jim’s photo and pressed it to her breast. “But more than anything, I want to live. And if I do make it, I promise you things will be different for both of us. Dr. Kiefer says I’ll feel better. And when I feel better, I’ll do more. I promise you that, Kathleen. Because …because…” Her voice broke. “Because I love you more than anything on this earth.”
Kathleen threw herself into her mother’s arms and together they wept, but not out of sadness or despair. They wept out of resolve and out of renewed hope, and for the pure joy of their love for each other.
Kathleen remained with her mother as long as she could the next morning, and when the OR transport gurney arrived to take Mary Ellen up for surgery, she reluctantly said, “See you later”— she couldn’t bring herself to say the word “goodbye”—and went up to the surgical floor’s family waiting room.
Holly and Raina were already there. Wordlessly, they hugged each other. Holly said, “Come see what we’ve done.” She and Raina had shoved a table into a corner along with a couple of chairs and spread out pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Holly explained, “This baby has three thousand pieces. I bought it just for today. This way, people can take a break from worrying and noodle over the puzzle piece by piece. Believe me, it’ll help pass the time.”
Raina showed Kathleen a cooler. “And I’ve squirreled away a stash of sodas and snacks. No need to leave the floor for anything.”
“Thank you,” Kathleen said, grateful for the two of them. Then they sat down to wait.
The room was rectangular, with clusters of sofas and chairs. A morning news show played on a television set, dog-eared magazines were stacked on tables, and a pot bubbled with brewing coffee. On one table, Kathleen saw a red phone without a dial face or punch pad. This was the phone the OR used to call the waiting room and notify those waiting when a particular surgery was over. Kathleen longed for it to ring for her.
Carson arrived, as did Holly’s parents. Vicki came by to tell them when the actual procedure had begun, then left to watch the operation from the observatory. Kathleen sat huddled in a chair, Carson beside her. When he took a bathroom break, Raina said, “I wish Hunter could be here too.”
Kathleen remembered he was still at camp. “Does he know?”
Raina nodded. “We talked last night, and I promised to call his cell phone the minute it’s over. He said to tell you that all the counselors prayed for her last night and again this morning.”
“Holly thinks there’s power in prayer,” Kathleen said.
“Let’s hope she’s right,” Raina said, looking to see if Holly was anywhere nearby. “I still can’t figure out why God lets this stuff happen in the first place. Doesn’t seem very godlike to me to let good people go through bad things.”
People from the Pink Angels program began to stop by with words of encouragement. Connie and Mike brought in donuts and promised sandwiches at noon. Kathleen’s friends and workers from the admissions office also came by. Twice she wandered to the puzzle table, where Holly and her father were hunched over the jigsaw pieces in deep concentration, their fingers touching as they worked together. As she watched them, a lump swelled in her throat. She missed having a father at that moment almost more than anytime before.
Full of nervous energy, she picked up an abandoned newspaper, leafed through the sections and was stopped cold. She was looking at a full-color picture of Stephanie’s face from the front page of the Trendsetter back-to-school supplement. Had it only been the month before when she and Raina had stood at the window looking through binoculars at the photo shoot and making wisecracks? High school and wearing the “right” clothes seemed so trivial. Her whole life could change forever by the end of this day.
“What’s up?” Carson interrupted her thoughts.
She jumped. “Nothing,” she said. “And everything.”
He slid the paper from her hands and stared at Stephanie’s photo. Kathleen watched him, remembering the framed image of Stephanie in his bedroom. She couldn’t read his expression. “Not too shabby for a girl in high school,” she said.
His eyes met hers. “Take it from me, there’s nothing glamorous about Steffie’s life,” he said. “Nothing.”
Just then, Holly tapped Kathleen on the shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt, girlfriend, but I’ve got to take off for a while.”
“Where?” Kathleen worried that she might have missed something critical while talking to Carson over the newspaper.
Holly’s face lit up. “Ben’s going home today. I can’t let him go without saying goodbye.” She looked over her shoulder at her father, then back at Kathleen. “After all, he’s the only acceptable boyfriend I’ve ever known.”
twenty-one
HOLLY RAN TO the elevator, punched the Down button repeatedly, gave up and headed to the stairwell. She hit the ground floor and ran down a hallway and through a giant atrium to a second bank of elevators that would take her to the pediatric floor in the next building. She tried the elevators again. “Hurry up,” she demanded after hitting the button. She didn’t want to miss Ben’s leaving.
The afternoon before, he’d talked of how his daddy and mommy were driving over in his daddy’s big red truck to take him home. “But Grandma has to stay at my house ’cause there’s not enough seats in the truck for all of us. She’s making me a cake!”
Holly made it to the pediatric floor and pushed through the double doors of the cancer wing. She saw nurses clustered around Ben, who was sitting in a wheelchair in front of the desk. Holly recognized Ben’s mother too. Balloons, looking like a bouquet of lollipops, had been tied to the arm of the wheelchair and danced above the small crowd. When Ben saw Holly rushing toward them, his face lit up. “Holly! You came to see me.”
“I wouldn’t let my favorite patient go without saying goodbye,” she said, bending to give him a hug.
Beth-Ann said, “Charlie, this here’s the girl I was telling you about.”
Holly said, “Hi” to the big man next to her.
“We’re mighty grateful for the way you helped out with Ben,” Charlie Keller said.
“He’s a wonderful little boy. I loved knowing him,” Holly said.
The Pink Angels volunteer assigned to take Ben down to the patient pickup area asked, “You want to take him down, Holly?”
“I sure do. And thanks.”
Hospital rules stated that every patient had to be escorted out of the hospital in a wheelchair after checkout. With another round of goodbyes to the nurses on the cancer floor, Holly and Ben’s family walked to the elevator, and this time Holly wasn’t in a hurry. Beth-Ann and Charlie carried books, toys, flowers and all Ben’s hospital gear. Ben was clutching his pirate teddy bear.
“I’m going to miss you,” Holly
told him. “Who will I eat chocolate cake with?”
“He’ll be back for checkups,” Beth-Ann said. “We’ll look for you when we come.”
Except for her swollen abdomen, Ben’s mother looked thin to Holly, and pale. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired, but real happy to have my little boy coming home.” She cradled her abdomen. “Only two more months now. Good thing too. I’m worn out just staying in bed all the time.”
Holly pushed Ben outside and into the semicircular driveway designed for patient pickup. Charlie went to get his truck. Beth-Ann also sat in a wheelchair nearby, and Holly crouched in front of the chair so that she could look into Ben’s face. “You think of me whenever you read one of those books, okay?”
“I will, Holly.” Ben was still bald from chemo and impossibly thin. His big blue eyes tugged at her heart.
“And stay well.”
“I hate being sick,” Ben said emphatically, then added, “Am I still your boyfriend?”
“My one and only.”
“Good.”
Charlie’s red truck pulled up. Ben’s stuff had been secured in the open bed, and the radio played a country song. Charlie lifted his son out of the chair and buckled him into the vehicle’s backseat. “Nice meeting you,” he said to Holly. He and a nurse helped his wife into the truck.
Beth-Ann leaned out the open window and took Holly’s hand. “Thank you for all those books you bought Ben. He loves them.”
“It was fun hunting for them in the bookstore and figuring out which ones he’d like best,” Holly said. She stepped back and, waving, watched the truck drive away. She stood with the empty wheelchair for several minutes, long after the truck had been swallowed up in traffic, the hot afternoon breeze stirring her hair. She felt a peculiar sense of loss and foreboding that sent a shiver through her. Kathleen’s mother! With a start, Holly remembered what was going on upstairs. She dragged the wheelchair inside the door and ran for the elevators.
At noon, two of the Pink Angels volunteer staff brought sandwiches to Kathleen and her friends. “You should eat something,” Holly’s mother said kindly, offering Kathleen a sandwich.
“I don’t think I can swallow,” Kathleen confessed. She looked at the clock for the millionth time. “It’s been hours. When do you think it’ll be over?”
“Dr. Kiefer said it could take a long time. Don’t worry, hon. A lot of people are praying for your mom. I truly believe that’s she’s going to pull through this.”
Kathleen nodded, not trusting her voice, wishing with all her heart that Evelyn’s prediction would come true, and quickly.
“When this is over today, please come home with us,” Evelyn said. “I’d love to take care of you while your mother recovers. And Holly would be thrilled to have you stay awhile. And we’d love to have you live with us once school starts. Just until your mother comes home.”
“That’s nice of you.”
Carson had walked up, eating a donut. “You can stay at my place. I’ll tell my mom, ‘She followed me home. Can I keep her?’”
This made Kathleen and Holly’s mother smile. Evelyn said, “I’m serious, dear. You’re always welcome in the Harrison household.”
Holly bounded into the waiting room just as the red phone rang. An elderly man, also awaiting word from one of the operating rooms, answered it. He held the receiver in the air. “Kathleen McKensie?”
Kathleen’s mouth went dry. “That’s me,” she said, taking the receiver and holding it to her ear.
A voice said, “Dr. Kiefer will be there shortly to speak to you. Please go to the room across the hall.”
She hung up, her hands shaking. “It’s over,” she said. “Dr. Kiefer’s coming down.”
“Do you want us to come with you?” Carson asked.
She nodded and they all went into the smaller room. Moments later, Carson’s parents swooped through the doorway. They wore the green surgical garb of the OR and looked imposing, almost godlike. Teresa was holding her surgical mask and Kathleen saw spots of blood on her gown. She offered Kathleen a reassuring smile. “Your mother made it through the surgery just fine. The new valve is in place and your mother’s in Recovery.”
If Raina and Holly hadn’t been holding her hands and Carson hadn’t been standing behind her with his hands on her shoulders, Kathleen would have crumpled to the floor. Everyone in the room gave an audible sigh of relief. “Can I see her?” Kathleen asked.
“Not just yet. Someone will let you know when she’s been taken up to ICU.”
Dr. Chris Kiefer said, “The next forty-eight hours are probably the most critical in heart procedure cases, but I really think she’s doing well. And,” he added, raising an eyebrow, “I’m impressed that the head of nursing is in Recovery to oversee her care.” He looked tired. “We have things we must do now, but I’ll be by to talk to you later.” He glanced at his son and their gazes held for a long moment.
“Thanks,” Carson said softly.
Dr. Kiefer gave a nod and left the room.
Kathleen turned, put her arms around Carson’s neck and buried her face in the front of his shirt. She cried, but this time from relief, from pure gratitude that it was over and that her mother was alive.
twenty-two
“I’M SORRY I can’t come to your banquet tonight,” said Mary Ellen. She was still in ICU with tubes and wires coming out of her body, but the feeding tube had been pulled that morning, so now, although her voice was raspy, she could talk.
“Mom, don’t worry, Holly’s dad is taping it and you’ll get to see the whole thing.” Kathleen had come up to visit her mother before the volunteer awards banquet, scheduled to begin soon in one of the hospital’s banquet rooms downstairs. “Besides, it could be boring.”
“I’d love being bored. I want to go home.”
“You will.” After her mother was released from the hospital, she would have to go to a rehabilitation facility until she could function on her own. No one could predict how long that would take.
“How are things at the house?”
“Fine. I stop by and check on things every day.”
“Do you like staying at Holly’s?”
Kathleen thought for a minute. “It’s kind of fun being with her family. There’s always something going on. TVs blaring, doors slamming, people coming and going. Holly and I are forever fighting Hunter for the bathroom. Yeah. I like it.”
“You’ve never had a normal family life, that’s for sure.”
“Oh, Mom, what’s ‘normal’ mean, anyway? ‘Normal’ is whatever we make it.”
Mary Ellen grimaced and shifted in the bed. She still had a lot of discomfort. “Are you ready for school?”
Classes began the following Monday. “The school sent my new schedule and I’m making a supply run tomorrow with Holly and Raina.”
“How about clothes?”
“I’m all set.”
“No…take my department store card and buy yourself some new things. You deserve it.”
Her mother’s offer touched Kathleen. “Well, if that’s okay. Holly’s a genius with fashion and I know she’ll help. I won’t spend too much.”
“Get what you want. Life’s too short to wear ugly clothes.”
Kathleen laughed, then caught sight of the time. “I’d better go. I’ll come back when the banquet’s over. Want me to bring you a piece of cake? Carson’s parents donated a huge cake because they’re so thrilled that he actually completed the program.”
“Just take plenty of pictures,” Mary Ellen said. “Go have a good time.”
Kathleen saw that her brief visit was taxing her mother’s energy. She kissed Mary Ellen’s forehead and said goodbye. Out in the hall, she caught the elevator down to the cafeteria and banquet rooms. Carson would be waiting for her, along with her friends and their families. She felt wonderful.
She was halfway across the almost deserted lobby of the cafeteria wing when Stephanie Mar-low materialized in front of her. Kathleen stopped short.
“You startled me,” she said, struggling to regain composure.
Stephanie was dressed to kill in a suede miniskirt and matching thigh-high boots. “I came for the banquet,” she said. “From a fashion shoot.”
Kathleen felt plain and ordinary in her summer dress.
“Carson invited me,” Stephanie said.
The news shocked Kathleen—he’d never said a word to her about it. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” Stephanie crossed her arms. “Listen, don’t think that just because he’s fooled around with you all summer I’m out of the picture. This has happened before, you know. He finds some new little plaything for a few months and keeps himself busy. But he always comes back to me.”
The smug, haughty expression on Stephanie’s face made Kathleen want to slap her. She thought of all that had happened during the past few weeks, of how her life had been tossed upside down and of how she’d almost lost her mother. And although she had no way of knowing whether she and Carson would last, she couldn’t give Stephanie the satisfaction of thinking her hateful little speech had gotten to her. Kathleen glared at the willowy model. “Well, here’s a news flash. I’m not Carson’s ‘plaything’ and he’s not a boomerang. And if he wants you, then he can have you, because you’re all flash. I have a party to go to, so please get out of my way.”
Stephanie gave her a look of pure venom, but she stepped aside. Kathleen swept past her, heart racing, anger boiling inside her. She paused at the doorway to gather herself before stepping inside the banquet room. People were everywhere—volunteers, their families, staff. She craned her neck, looking for her friends.
Holly and Raina found her. “We’re sitting at table five…” Raina’s voice trailed off. “Whoa. You don’t look happy, girlfriend. What’s wrong?”
Kathleen quickly told them of her confrontation with Stephanie.
“Why, that b—” Raina stopped herself, remembering where she was.
“It’s okay. I’m thinking the same thing,” Holly said.