Raina's Story

by Lurlene McDaniel

  Kathleen didn’t see how that was possible, because Raina was so popular, but she kept her opinion to herself.

  “Sounds like a good plan,” Holly said. “Besides, maybe Tony’s forgotten what happened. I mean, it did happen in eighth grade.”

  “Years ago,” Kathleen said enthusiastically.

  Raina smiled politely, but they all knew they didn’t believe it. Not for a minute.

  On Saturday, Raina picked up her friends and they all reported to Parker-Sloan General Hospital for orientation about their upcoming volunteer duties for high school credit. They had gone through an orientation at the beginning of the summer, but this time it was different. There would be little leeway for skipping days, tighter controls on their work, and supervisory reports filled out and turned in to their high school. The room where this orientation was held was much smaller than the teaching auditorium from the summer. As they took their seats, Raina recognized a few faces from the summer program but saw new people too. In all, she estimated that about sixty kids had signed up from schools all over the city.

  Connie, the coordinator from the summer program, greeted everyone warmly, then introduced a petite young woman named Sierra Benson, the coordinator for the credit program as part of a work-study exchange. She was a senior at the University of South Florida seeking a degree in medical community relations. More and more hospitals needed good PR, according to Raina’s mother. “Hospitals are businesses,” Vicki sometimes grumbled. “I wish it wasn’t so much that way, but it is.”

  Still, Raina had her heart set on becoming a nurse herself, despite her mother’s flagging enthusiasm for her own career as the years passed and her profession faced ever-changing challenges. Raina considered her summer as a Pink Angel, and now her for-credit sign-up, as one step closer to fulfilling her dream.

  “Hello,” Sierra said with a smile. “I’m really looking forward to working with all of you. Let me begin by saying that I want us to be friends as well as colleagues. I want you to come to me with any concerns about your work and your schedules and your supervisors—in short, come to me about anything. This is going to be a good year and with your help, we’ll build the most successful high school volunteer program in Parker-Sloan’s history.”

  “She doesn’t look much older than us,” Holly whispered to her friends.

  Sierra went on to explain the rules and routines. She passed out paperwork and told them that the new assignment room would be next to the medical library. “While you’re on duty, you’ll each be given a pager for use in the hospital. You’ll check it in and out each day, and when it buzzes, go to an in-house phone and call your supervisor. Some of you will be assigned to the same nursing unit for weeks at a time. Some will be assigned to a resident during his or her specific rotation, and you’ll be totally available to help them, run errands for them, whatever. Any questions?”

  “My very own resident. That sounds like fun,” Holly whispered.

  “I was hoping to stay in Admissions,” Kathleen mumbled.

  “Spread your wings,” Raina urged softly.

  Kathleen made a face.

  When the orientation was over, Raina led her friends up to meet Sierra.

  “Are you related to Vicki St. James?” Sierra asked after the introductions.

  “My mom.”

  “I like her.”

  “Me too.” Raina often thought of her mother as a best friend.

  Sierra smiled. “I’ve looked over the comment sheets from the summer program, and everyone you all worked with gave you high marks. Congratulations.”

  “I—I really like Admissions,” Kathleen ventured.

  “I’m going to be moving people around,” Sierra said. “By reading the comment sheets and talking to various supervisors, I think I can fit skills and personalities better.”

  Kathleen was disappointed, but she kept it to herself.

  “Then we’ll see you Tuesday,” Raina said.

  Holly kept up a running stream of conversation as they walked to Raina’s car in the parking garage, but when they arrived at the vehicle, Carson Kiefer stepped out from behind a concrete pillar. “Hey, beautiful,” he said to Kathleen.

  “What are you doing here?” Her mood shot straight up.

  “Seeing you. How’d the orientation go?”

  “Fine. Wish you were signed up.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve got to get my grades up. I need to focus. That’s hard to do when I’m around you.”

  “Uh—why don’t we wait for you in my car,” Raina said, nudging Holly.

  “Better yet, why don’t I take you home,” Carson said. “I mean, take you to Holly’s house. We’ll grab a burger first.”

  Kathleen looked at her friends. “I’m sure you won’t miss me.”

  “We’ll cope,” Raina teased.

  Kathleen took Carson’s hand, and Raina and Holly watched them walk away. Holly sighed heavily. “Wish I had a boyfriend.”

  “Does Carson seem more serious-minded to you?” Raina asked.

  “What do you mean? He’s serious about Kathleen, I think.”

  “I know. But ever since the night he resuscitated Kathleen’s mother, he’s seemed less like the party guy we first met.”

  “I haven’t noticed. Whenever he calls her, I leave the room so they can have privacy. I’m such a good girl.”

  “Come on,” Raina said with a laugh. “Hunter said he’ll be off at five and if I hang around your house, I can be there when he arrives.”

  “Well, doesn’t that work out nicely,” Holly grumbled.

  “Oh now, don’t be a grouch. We can go shopping first if you’d like.”

  “Mom’s got a list of chores for me to do.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  “Really?”

  Raina looped her arm through Holly’s. “Really. We could become sisters-in-law someday, you know.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “I missed you today,” Raina whispered in Hunter’s ear.

  They were on an old blanket in a wooded area on the grounds of her town house complex, one of the few places where they could be alone together. She was wrapped in his arms, and his mouth was pressed against her throat. The night air felt warm and sticky, slick with the promise of September rain. Pale light from the moon flickered through the branches of overhead trees, dripping with Spanish moss.

  “Same for me,” he said. “I’m crazy busy at my job, but I still have time to think about you. About us.”

  She was cradled against the length of his body, every one of her nerve endings on fire for him. “Us. I like the sound of it.”

  He kissed her, long and deep, and the taste of him was so familiar that she could have kissed a hundred others blindfolded and still known his mouth. Her head swam with passion and every inch of her skin tingled. No matter how many times they kissed, she always wanted more of him. “What about us?” she asked when he broke away.

  “That it’s getting harder and harder to be alone with you and … and not …” He didn’t complete the sentence.

  Her heart hammered inside her chest as if it wanted to break free. “I—I know,” she said. She would have given him anything he asked of her. Anything. “I love you, Hunter.”

  He buried his face between her breasts, ran his hands down the long arc of her body rising to meet his caress. “And I love you.”

  She thought she might die from longing for him. There was only him. He was all she wanted. All she had ever wanted. “It’s … okay.…,” she said. “I … want … us to …”

  His hands stopped moving. She felt his body tense, and his slow, languid kisses ceased. A sound halfway between a moan and a growl escaped his throat. He pulled away, sat up very straight, grabbed his knees and pulled them tightly against his chest. “We can’t, Raina,” he said dully. “We just can’t.”

  three

  RAINA QUICKLY TUGGED at her clothing, sat up and scooted next to Hunter. “I—I’m sorry. I lost my head and forg
ot about the Promise.”

  Hunter turned toward her and shards of moonlight glanced across the planes of his face. He looked haunted, wounded. “You have nothing to be sorry about. It’s my promise. I’m the one who has to keep it. We shouldn’t have come here.”

  She took a deep shuddering breath, trying to calm her racing heart and douse the fire of passion still roaring through her veins. Years before, at a church camp, Hunter had pledged to remain chaste until he married. Raina had always known this, and it had been one of the things that had attracted her to him. Hunter wasn’t like other boys she’d dated, who often figured they were entitled to have sex with her simply because they were dating. The irony was that she would have given herself to Hunter gladly because she loved him so much. And although they didn’t share the same religious beliefs—she rarely went to church, while Hunter and his family attended faithfully—she respected his.

  Raina said, “We hardly ever get to be alone, Hunter, and I wanted us to be alone.”

  “And now we know why we shouldn’t be alone.”

  She stood abruptly. “Look, I didn’t mean to get us to the edge of a meltdown by coming out here. I don’t want you feeling bad about us. Besides, we seem to always be able to stop before … well, before we go too far.”

  He rose quickly and took her by the arms. “What scares me is what if I’m not able to stop? I don’t want us to give ourselves away to each other on some blanket in the woods. I want it to be right when it happens. I want to be married.”

  “To me?”

  “Of course to you. We love each other and we should be willing to declare it in front of God, and our families and friends. Then we can have all the sex we want, wherever we want.”

  “Aren’t there rules about ‘wherever’?” She attempted to lighten the mood.

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “Yes. We’ll be very careful to stay out of public elevators.”

  Looking into his eyes, she knew that his way did seem best, but it could be years before they would be able to marry. She said so to him, adding, “In the meantime, what are we supposed to do? Break up? Burn up? Dry up?”

  A smile turned up the corners of his mouth, and he put his arms around her and pulled her close. “No to all three. We just have to stay in crowds, I guess. Do you think we can do that?”

  She nodded, feeling hollow. “Just so long as we don’t give up.”

  “That won’t happen.”

  “No matter what?”

  “What matters is doing things right,” he said. “It’s important to me, you know it is.”

  “I know,” she said, holding him tightly, while an overwhelming sadness swept through her that she could not explain. Not to her own heart. Not to him.

  Hunter told her goodbye at her front door, and Raina slunk inside. To her surprise, her mother was sitting at the countertop that jutted into the great room, poring over a pile of paperwork. Vicki looked up. Her eyes narrowed. “You all right? You looked bedraggled.”

  Raina had hoped to get up the stairs and into her room and wished she hadn’t run into her mother. “Why are you up so late?”

  “Catching up on reports I can’t get to at work.” Vicki laid down her pen. “Have you been with Hunter?”

  “None other.” Raina dropped the old blanket on the floor and headed toward the refrigerator. She had no reason to be secretive now.

  “Raina, you are being careful, aren’t you?”

  “Hunter’s being careful,” Raina said, retrieving an apple from the fruit bin and shutting the door. “I’d go for the gold if it was up to me.”

  “Don’t say that. Teenage pregnancy is no joking matter.”

  “Why are you forever warning me about not getting pregnant? Don’t forget, I got my very own prescription of birth control pills when I was fourteen. Why, I was the first girl in school to receive such a thoughtful gift. And from my mother too.” Raina bit into the apple, well aware of how sarcastic she sounded. She didn’t know why she was being hateful. It wasn’t her mother’s fault that she felt frustrated.

  Vicki’s mouth formed a thin, tight line. “That was for your own protection. Do you think some guy is going to stop in the middle of everything and take precautions?”

  “Hunter isn’t ‘some guy.’ He’s a perfect guy.”

  Vicki arched her eyebrow. “In other words, he’s not a loser, like your father, the guy I picked.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But you were thinking it.”

  That was the trouble with having a mother who was so much like her, Raina thought. They had no secrets from each other. “Well, he didn’t stick around, did he?”

  Vicki returned to the stool and her stack of papers. “No, he didn’t. But I assure you, we’re a whole lot better off without him.”

  “So you’ve always said.”

  Vicki pulled her reading glasses from where she had positioned them atop her head and set them on her nose. “Go to bed, Raina. I’m really too tired to spar with you tonight.”

  Raina teetered indecisively, her bad mood morphing into one of remorse. Her mother had worked hard and long to achieve her goals, all the while raising Raina alone without financial or emotional help from the father who’d walked out when Raina had been two. “Mom, I’m sorry,” she said softly.

  Vicki looked up. “I know. Trust me, I’m not keeping score, Raina. I’m glad we can talk to each other about anything. So many women on staff at the hospital tell me real horror stories about their relationships with their daughters.” She blew out a breath. “I want your life to be better than mine. Easier. You’ll want the same thing for your kids someday.”

  Raina dropped her half-eaten apple in the garbage can, walked out into the great room and flipped on the TV with the remote. She sank into the couch and surfed until she found Saturday Night Live.

  “Why don’t you go on to bed?” Vicki said.

  “I’ll wait for you.”

  Vicki closed the file she was working on and shoved it aside. “My eyes are crossing.” She opened the pantry, found a bag of popcorn and put it into the microwave, then came and sat beside Raina on the sofa. “Can I watch with you?”

  “Sure.”

  They settled into the cushions, one on each end of the pillow-strewn sofa, while the bag of popcorn exploded in the oven and the homey aroma of fresh buttery kernels filled the room.

  On Labor Day, Kathleen went over to Carson’s house, on Davis Island, for a barbecue around the pool with his parents. She remembered the first time she had gone there for dinner and how scared she’d been of the two heart surgeons, but now they seemed like old friends, and not only because Dr. Chris Kiefer had saved her mother’s life. Kathleen genuinely liked Carson’s parents. Carson’s mother, Dr. Teresa, as Kathleen called her, was open and warm, with a great deal of charm and grace. Kathleen felt at ease around her.

  Kathleen was lounging in the bright aqua water on a hot pink float when Carson rose up and grabbed the side of the float. “Yikes, don’t dunk me,” she said. “I just put on sunscreen.”

  His brown eyes glinted with mischief and the sun danced across his tanned shoulders. He slung water off his dark hair. “It’ll cost you.”

  “What?” She eyed him warily.

  “How about a kiss?”

  “Your parents are watching us,” Kathleen hissed.

  “I’m sure they suspect that we kiss each other.”

  Kathleen felt her face getting red. Teresa was sitting on a lounger at the far end of the pool reading a medical journal. Carson’s father was busy basting something that smelled succulent on the mammoth grill under the porch awning. “I’d be too embarrassed,” she said.

  “We can’t have you embarrassed,” Carson said, wiggling the float.

  “Carson, don’t!”

  But her plea was in vain. With a heave, Carson turned the float over and Kathleen tumbled into the cool water. In a second, he was underwater beside her. He pulled her close and kissed her. She came up sputtering. �
�Resistance is futile,” he said.

  She splashed him full in the face. He laughed, arched backward and dove under. Kathleen swam to the side of the pool and raised herself out of the water. Teresa smiled and waved her over. “Men are little children. Why they think it is funny to partially drown their girlfriends is a mystery, but they all do. When Christopher first dated me, he did the same thing.” She handed Kathleen a fluffy white towel.

  “It’s all about the hair,” Kathleen confessed. “It just dries weird.”

  “Your hair is lovely. You should not fight it so.”

  “That’s what my mother says.”

  “How is she doing? I know that medically she is doing well, but I mean otherwise.”

  “She is so ready to come home. And … and I really want her to.” Unbidden, tears welled up in Kathleen’s eyes. She dabbed them away with the edge of the towel. “I’m sorry.”

  Teresa patted Kathleen’s arm. “No apologies. It is good to miss your mother. I still miss mine, although she died years ago.”

  “Mom has a nice room at the rehab center,” Kathleen said, regaining her composure. “She goes to therapy twice a day. I think things would go faster if it weren’t for her MS.”

  The facility where Mary Ellen was staying was a block away from Parker-Sloan. It had one wing for patients who needed therapy but couldn’t yet live alone at home, a pool for water exercises and several large gymlike rooms filled with equipment. Physical therapists on staff worked with both inpatients and outpatients. Many who went there were victims of strokes and accidents. Kathleen could see that her mother was getting better every day but that she still had a way to go before being allowed to return home. Even when she did, Mary Ellen would have to return for therapy twice a week.

  Kathleen said, “Mom’s attitude is better … more positive.”

  “Well, certainly repairing her heart valve improved blood flow, and this gave her more energy,” Teresa said. “She was truly very sick.”

  Kathleen thought that her mother’s close brush with death had somehow strengthened her, helped her see beyond her illness and the terrible loss of her husband and Kathleen’s father in a car wreck years before. “She’s better now. In a lot of ways,” Kathleen said.