Paul laughed out loud. “You’re a sneaky one! But I love you, and I won’t tell your secret. Besides, Alan’s a fine boy. Now that you’re here, go look for him. I think he’s finishing a therapy session with Mrs. Wilson.” He turned to Brenda. “Actually, I’m glad you’re here. There’s something I want to discuss with you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you.”
Julie looked torn between running off to find Alan and staying to hear what her uncle had to say.
“Shoo,” Paul said. “This is for Brenda’s ears only.”
When they were alone and Brenda was sitting in an office chair, Paul went over to his file cabinet. He removed a manila folder, took out a newspaper clipping, and handed it to Brenda. “I want you to read this story.”
It was from the Atlanta Journal and was dated from the summer. There was a color photo of a smiling teenage boy with a mop of curly brown hair, surrounded by Atlanta Braves baseball paraphernalia. The headline read: DREAMS COME TRUE FOR CANCER VICTIM. Brenda began to read:
“It started when I was in seventh grade,” says seventeen-year-old Douglas Drake as he sits in his room decorated with Braves mementos. “Aches in my joints, bruises on my arms and legs for no reason. When I first went to the doctor, he thought my folks might be abusing me.” Doug chuckles over this. ” My folks are the best. They’ve always been there for me. Anyway, the doctors ran tests and told us I had leukemia.
“I went through every treatment known to science, and maybe a few that aren’t.” Doug leans forward, his green eyes full of mischief. But his amusement fades. He leans back in his chair and gets a faraway look. “The doctors have done all they can for me. Now that my bone-marrow transplant has failed, they’ve sent me home to die.”
Without a shred of self-pity, Doug smiles. “I guess we all have to die sometime,” he says. “ ’Course, I’d rather be seventy than seventeen, but who gets to pick these things?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, but adds, “The worst part for me is having to give up all the things I like to do. Like baseball. I played Little League until I had to quit. And school, too. I miss going to school.”
Doug has been a homebound student off and on since he was thirteen. Although he’d hoped to return to Oakbriar High for his junior year, he wasn’t well enough when school opened in September. “I attended some last year,” Doug says. “Long enough to know I wish I could go back.”
Because of Doug’s circumstances, his family’s church and some community clubs have banded together over the years to help his family in many ways. An area chapter of the Make-a-Wish Foundation offered him the wish of his choice, and Doug asked to attend the Braves training camp last spring.
Doug says, “It was really great to hang around with some of my heroes. They treated me like I was special—gave me signed baseballs, a letter jacket, all kinds of stuff.”
Brenda glanced up at Paul. “It’s a sad story. Do you know him?”
“He had his transplant in this hospital a year ago. I got to know him because whenever he was hospitalized, he helped with the younger kids on the floor. Sort of a big-brother type. When they felt scared or didn’t want to come to therapy, Doug often brought them down and stayed with them.” He paused. “Do you remember him from your school?”
Brenda shook her head. “Sorry, no. But Oakbriar’s huge. It’s hard to remember who’s in my classes, much less who I pass in the halls.”
Paul nodded. “Actually, Doug’s a patient here now. He has a stubborn infection.”
“Oh, gee, is he—I mean, how’s he …” Flustered, Brenda didn’t know how to complete her question.
“He’s doing all right this time. But there’s nothing his doctors can do except patch him up and send him home. They can’t cure him.”
“What’s that got to do with me?”
“He’s seen you here with Julie. And he remembers you from school. He thinks you’re beautiful. In fact, his exact words were, ‘Paul, she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I’d give anything in the world to meet her.’ ”
Two
Brenda felt a slow flush creep up her cheeks. “Me? He thinks I’m beautiful?”
Paul nodded. “He’s talked about you to me every time he’s seen you here with Julie. He wants to meet you, but he’s shy about it. I’m probably out of bounds to even mention it, but he really doesn’t have a lot of time left.”
Brenda felt hot and cold at the same time. She thought it almost creepy that someone—Doug, whom she’d never seen—had been looking at her, thinking about her, adoring her, without her knowledge. She wasn’t sure how to tell that to Paul. “Tell him hi for me, I guess.”
“Would you consider meeting him?”
“Gee … I don’t know.”
“I’ve made you uncomfortable, haven’t I?”
Brenda squirmed and stared down at her hands. “Maybe just a little.” Still, she didn’t want Paul to think she was insensitive. “Can I think about it? I mean, just for a day or so. I’m sure Julie will want to come see Alan again soon.”
“Sure,” Paul said with an encouraging smile. “Think it over. Talk about it with your friends. Whatever. I didn’t mean to pressure you, but I thought I could do Doug one small favor. He’s a great guy, Brenda.”
She stood up self-consciously, told Paul goodbye, and went out into the hall. She looked both ways, but saw only a few therapists and a nurse around the entrance desk. There was no boy looking at her.
Brenda shook off a feeling of vulnerability and hurried to the sitting area to wait for Julie. Once they were driving home together, Brenda shrugged off her friend’s questions about her meeting with Paul. Instead, she asked Julie about how things went with Alan. The ploy worked. In minutes Julie had forgotten all about Brenda’s meeting with her uncle and was talking her head off about the great and wonderful Alan-of-the-blue-eyes-and-dimpled-smile.
On Saturday Brenda went to work at the frozen-yogurt booth in the food court at the mall. She had taken the weekend job in September, and Julie had surprised her by applying and getting hired also. This morning the mall buzzed with shoppers. Across from the booth, workmen had cordoned off an area and were erecting and decorating a giant Christmas tree.
Suddenly Julie nudged Brenda. “Cute guy alert.”
Brenda looked up to see Matt Forrester and a couple of his friends heading toward the booth. Her heart skipped a beat. She and Matt had attended the same middle school and, although he had been a year ahead of her, she’d had a secret crush on him. Now he attended a military academy, but anyone who followed high-school football knew that Matt was one of the top players in the state. Brenda often cut out photos of him from the newspaper and stashed them in a drawer at home.
“What’s the flavor of the day?” Matt looked straight at Brenda as he asked his question.
“Pumpkin Caramel. Want a taste? It’s free.” She reached for a little pink tasting spoon, hoping she wouldn’t drop it from her trembling hands.
“Only if you feed it to me.”
She felt her cheeks growing warm and wished she could think of something cute and flirty to say. Instead, her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth.
One of Matt’s friends said, “Maybe she’s not allowed to feed the animals.”
Everybody laughed, which helped put Brenda at ease.
“I don’t bite pretty girls,” Matt said, his blue eyes staring into hers.
Brenda handed Matt the tasting spoon and he licked it clean. “What’s your favorite flavor?”
“I guess I like the White Chocolate.”
“I’ll have that, then.”
Brenda scooped frozen yogurt into a cone.
He took a lick. “Delicious. Thanks for the recommendation.”
After his friends had bought cones, Matt turned back to Brenda. “You work here on the weekends, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve been noticing,” he said. “See you next time.”
She watched him and h
is friends walk away and exhaled.
“Oh, wow!” Julie flopped against the wall dramatically. “Matt Forrester is interested in you. That is too much!”
“Julie, stop it,” Brenda said, all smiles. “He is not.”
“ ‘Only if you feed it to me.’ ‘I don’t bite pretty girls.’ ‘See you next time,’ ” Julie quoted. “I think he’s way interested. Wait until I tell everybody at school.”
“Don’t you dare. This is just between us.” Brenda cast a longing glance into the food court, but Matt and his friends had disappeared.
On Monday Brenda rode back to the hospital with Julie. “How much longer is this relationship going on?” Brenda asked. “You’re killing my study life.”
“As if!” Julie said.
“I’ll be in the lounge,” Brenda said when they were inside the building and Julie was hurrying off to find Alan. Brenda sighed and plopped her books onto a table. Then she removed her jacket and settled into a chair.
“Is this seat taken?”
The male voice startled her. She looked up into the greenest pair of eyes she’d ever seen. The boy had a curly mop of brown hair and a gaunt, pale look that made his face look angular. She knew instantly who it was. “I guess not,” she told him.
He sat slowly, as if it were an effort to move his body. “My name’s Doug Drake,” he said. “And this isn’t a chance meeting. I’ve been hoping you’d show up again, Brenda. Paul told me he’d talked to you about me.”
Her cheeks felt warm. “He showed me your newspaper article. It was … good.”
“I felt better then.” He flashed her a grin that made his face light up. “You must think I’m idiotic to go on about you to Paul.”
“No, I don’t.” She wanted the awkwardness of the situation to go away. “It—It was sort of flattering.”
“It’s all true. I meant every word. I think you’re so incredibly pretty.”
Her embarrassment deepened. “That’s nice of you to say.”
“Once I knew that you’d heard how I felt, I thought I should introduce myself, so you wouldn’t think the worst about me. I mean, a girl shouldn’t have to hear through the grapevine that someone thinks she’s special.”
Brenda felt like jumping up and running out of the room. She didn’t know how to respond. “So, how are you?”
“Pretty embarrassed,” Doug confessed. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”
“It’s all right. Really.”
Doug stood and rested his hands against the back of the chair. “I guess that’s all I wanted to say. I’m sorry I didn’t come right up to you at school last year and talk to you. I’m sorry I waited till now. Now, when there’s no time left.”
Brenda felt all the air go out of her lungs. “I’ve got time.”
He backed away. “But I don’t.”
Three
Brenda arrived home from school on Thursday and found a note from her mom saying she had taken Howie, Brenda’s eight-year-old brother, to the dentist. The phone rang just as Brenda scooped an apple out of the refrigerator.
“May I speak with Brenda Scolari?” a pleasant-sounding woman’s voice asked when Brenda grabbed the receiver.
“Speaking.”
“Brenda, I’m Florence Drake—Doug Drake’s mother.”
Brenda swallowed. “Yes.”
“Doug told us about meeting you.”
“Um—yes. We met at the hospital.”
She heard Mrs. Drake let out a long sigh. “Please don’t think me presumptuous for calling, but I—I really want to talk to you about my son.”
“Has something happened to him?” Brenda felt a sudden chill.
“They released him from the hospital yesterday. He’s at home and resting. But he’s pretty down … you know, depressed.”
“I’m sorry. But it’s good that he’s home again.”
An awkward silence followed; then Mrs. Drake said, “I have a big favor to ask of you.”
Brenda’s heart hammered. She sensed the magnitude of the moment. “What favor?”
“Would you please consider going out with Doug? A date with you might make all the difference in the world to his frame of mind.”
“You’re trying to arrange a date between me and Doug?”
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” Mrs. Drake said hurriedly. “But it would mean so much to him. And his father and I would make certain you’d have a wonderful time—”
“I—I don’t want to go out with Doug. I don’t even know him. I’ve only met him once.”
“Please. The two of you could do anything you want. We have the money to make sure you have a good time together.”
Speechless, Brenda thought about disconnecting the call but realized Mrs. Drake might simply call her back. “I—I’ll think about it,” she managed to stammer.
“Oh, thank you, Brenda. Thank you.”
Brenda hung up, numb and still in shock. Doug’s parents were trying to buy her! Were they crazy? An arranged date with a boy she hardly knew, and to whom she felt no attraction? What was she going to do?
That night, as Brenda was loading the dishwasher, she told her mother about the situation and Mrs. Drake’s request.
“What did you tell her?” her mother asked.
“I told her I’d think about it.”
Her mother looked pensive. “It is a strange offer, but as a mother, I can totally understand.”
“You can?”
“Despite what kids believe, parents aren’t out to make their kids’ lives miserable. At least not all the time.” She smiled. “I’m sure Mrs. Drake is grabbing at any straw to help her son be happy again. I’d do the same for you or Howie if either of you was in those circumstances.”
“I guess …” Brenda could see what her mother was saying. On a smaller scale, wasn’t that what she was doing to aid Julie with her flirtation with Alan? People did favors for friends. And for people they loved. Mrs. Drake’s request was understandable. But Brenda still didn’t want to do it.
“And you’ve met this Doug?”
“Once. We were both embarrassed.”
“I can see where he’s coming from,” Brenda’s mother said. “You are pretty special.”
“Oh, Mom.” Brenda waved off the compliment. “You’re my mother.”
“Well, Doug’s mother thinks he’s special, too.” Brenda’s mother studied her face. “You really aren’t flattered by all this, are you?”
“I’m just not crazy about going out with some guy I don’t know who’s got cancer. I wouldn’t even know what to say to him. Cancer is awful. I still remember how things were for Grandpa, even though I was only seven.”
Her mother nodded and looked sad. “It was very unpleasant, yes. In the end, he was in such pain.”
Brenda recalled vividly the images of her grandfather’s final months. Grandpa in the hospital with all kinds of tubes running out of him. Grandpa back home in a special hospital bed set up in the living room. People from the hospice helping Grandma care for his wasted body. The smells, the fear, the ugliness of his dying, all came back to Brenda in a rush. She would never forget it. “I don’t think I could stand being around someone dying like that again.”
“No one would want to,” her mother said. “If they had a choice.”
Brenda told herself that she had a choice. And she didn’t choose to date a boy with cancer. Nor did she want to watch him die.
“You’re going out with Doug? Why did you change your mind?” Julie had stopped wiping down the countertop of the yogurt booth after Brenda’s announcement.
“I talked it over with my parents. They both thought I should do it. Then, after Doug’s mom talked to mine on the phone and she made it sound so important to her, I felt ashamed about saying no. Besides, like my mom says, it’s just one date. No big deal.”
Julie put one hand on Brenda’s shoulder and her other hand over her heart. “You’ve restored my faith in good-deed doing. Uncle Paul will be really glad, too.”
/> Brenda flashed Julie a smile. “Does this mean I get a certificate, like the Tin Man in The Wizard of Oz?”
Julie had stopped listening. “Don’t look now, but here comes the real man of your dreams.”
Brenda looked up and saw Matt heading their way. Her breath caught in her throat.
“Got any White Chocolate?” he asked.
“A whole five gallons,” Brenda answered.
“If I buy us a couple of cones, can you join me?”
“I can handle things by myself,” Julie said, giving Brenda a shove. “We’re not busy at all. Go, girl.”
Minutes later Brenda found herself sitting at a table with Matt, eating a frozen yogurt. She barely tasted it. Being this close to Matt had turned her thoughts to mush.
“I told you I’d be back,” Matt said with a grin.
“It’s the great yogurt, I’ll bet.”
“It’s the great yogurt server.” He leaned forward. “So tell me about yourself.”
She decided against mentioning they’d gone to middle school together. “What do you want to know?”
“Like your name, if you have a guy in your life, what you want to be when you grow up.”
“Brenda Scolari; no; and the president of my own company.”
He laughed. “I like a girl with big dreams.”
“You must have some big dreams yourself. With football and all.”
“A college scholarship. I’m getting offers.”
She was so engrossed in their conversation that she didn’t see the crowd gathering around the yogurt booth until Matt mentioned it. She jumped to her feet. “I’d better go.”
Matt rose with her. “Before you run off, how about your phone number? I’d like to call you sometime.”
She scribbled her number on a napkin and all but floated back to the booth.
“Are you sure you’re all right about this?”
Starry, Starry Night Page 6
