All the Days of Her Life

by Lurlene McDaniel

  Sheila stalked off. Lacey watched her clear a path through the crowds and asked, “Gee, was it something I said?”

  Terri smiled. “Poor Sheila. Two strikes against her in less than fifteen minutes.”

  “Are you feeling sorry for her?”

  “Are you kidding? She’s the biggest mouth in school. She deserves to be hassled.” Terri tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Do you like Todd?”

  “He’s all right. Aren’t you interested in him?”

  “No way. The only person Todd cares about is Todd. He’s too good-looking. He has too much money. He thinks he can have anything he wants. Don’t waste your time on him, Lacey.”

  “Nothing else is happening.”

  “Boredom’s no reason to go after a guy.”

  Terri’s words brought back Katie’s from the previous summer at Jenny House when Katie had accused Lacey of leading on Jeff McKensie simply because she didn’t have anything better to do. Lacey told Terri, “Todd’s cute. I’m interested.”

  “Poor girl. I’m telling you, Todd’s no catch.”

  “Even for Monet?”

  “Especially Monet. They’re probably up there fighting right now over who gets to use the mirror first.”

  Lacey chuckled. “So who makes your pulse race from our school?”

  “Dakota.”

  Lacey searched her memory for a face to put with the name. “Do I know a Dakota?”

  “Sure. He’s my white rat in psychology lab. He’s warm and fuzzy and totally dependent on me. He’s a cheap date, and when I’m with him, he has eyes only for me. Little beady red eyes full of adoration. Yes, Dakota loves me truly.”

  “You’re silly,” Lacey said with a grin. She looked around at the party crowd again. The music had grown louder, the shrieking and laughter louder still. The pool water had sloshed all over the deck, filling the air with the scent of chlorine. Several lounge chairs were sitting on the bottom of the pool and the colored lights, which earlier had seemed so pretty, made things look garish and distorted. All at once she didn’t want to be there. “Would you like to come back to my house, make some popcorn, and watch TV? Friday is Fright Night on channel four.”

  “I’d like that better than staying here,” Terri said. “My car’s parked someplace out front.”

  “You can follow me.” Lacey led the way out of the party, wondering why she’d never developed a closer friendship with Terri, who seemed nice and fun to be with. She thought fleetingly about Todd and Monet. Perhaps Terri was right. Maybe Todd was too used to getting whatever he wanted. Ruefully, she told herself that tonight, at least, what he wanted wasn’t her.

  She found her car, waited until Terri drove up behind her, then led the way out of Todd’s neighborhood toward her own home miles away. In the rearview mirror, the lights from the party glowed against the night sky while the house where Todd lived reminded her of an amusement park.

  * * *

  Lacey awoke Saturday morning feeling sluggish and cranky. She blinked at the clock beside her headboard and saw that it was nine-thirty. Her father was picking her up for lunch and the matinee in ninety minutes. She groaned, cross with herself for sleeping so late. Why hadn’t her mother called her? Why hadn’t she remembered to set her alarm?

  Terri had stayed until after midnight, and they’d had fun watching old horror movies and eating popcorn together. When Terri went home, Lacey continued to stay up watching an all-night movie channel. She’d eaten more than she should have and that’s why she’d not awakened shaky from an insulin reaction. However, now it was too late for breakfast, since she’d be eating lunch soon. Worst of all, she’d missed her morning injection time.

  The regimentation of her diabetes was almost as bad as the shots. The only time in recent memory she’d stuck to a decent schedule had been over the summer at Jenny House. Which reminded her that she’d told Katie she would call today. Feeling overwhelmed, Lacey covered her head with her pillow and screamed. The sound was muffled, but it did make her feel better.

  She rolled out of bed, only to hear the doorbell ringing. “Now what?” Where was her mother anyway? As the bell sounded once more, she recalled her mother telling her something about working overtime in order to prepare a presentation for a new client the ad agency she worked for was wooing.

  “Terrific!” Lacey muttered under her breath. She pulled a filmy bathrobe around herself, raked her hand through her tangled blond hair, and ran for the door, shouting, “Hold on! I’m coming!”

  She yanked open the door and blinked against the glare of the bright morning sun. “What is it—?” She stopped midsentence.

  “I like your outfit.” Jeff McKensie said, eyeing her up and down. He reached out and touched her cheek. “So, Lacey, have you got a minute for an old friend? Or do I have to stand on your doorstep while you stare me down?”

  Three

  UNABLE TO DO much except stare, Lacey obediently stepped aside and let him into the foyer of her house.

  “Nice place,” Jeff said, peering into the living room. “Why don’t you close the door? You’re letting the warm air out.”

  Lacey shut the door, for although the sun was shining brightly, the January day had dawned cool and seemed destined to remain so. Recovering from the shock of seeing Jeff on her doorstep, she asked, “What are you doing in Miami? I thought you were in Colorado.”

  “I transferred to the University of Miami for winter term. It has a top-notch program for my major—architecture. If you’d written me back instead of ignoring my Christmas card, I’d have told you.”

  She ignored his barb. “Are you here just for this term?”

  “For my final two years of undergraduate work, actually. I’ve rented an apartment near the campus. I’ll show it to you sometime.”

  “How long have you been in town?”

  “Three days. I drove. Hauled all my junk in a trailer across half the United States. But I’m settled in now. Classes start Monday, so since I have a weekend to kill, I thought I’d look you up.”

  Lacey heard the sound of her heart thudding and wasn’t sure if it was thumping in joy over seeing him again, or in fear, because he was part of a world she didn’t want to be reminded of. “I didn’t know you wanted to be an architect.”

  “There’s lots you don’t know about me. Lots I want you to know.”

  The way his green eyes bore into her made color creep up her neck. She recalled the explosions of heat she’d felt when he’d kissed her in the woods near Jenny House on the Fourth of July, and suddenly realized that she was still in her nightgown and robe. She clutched the top of the robe closer to her throat. “It was nice of you to drop by but you really should have called me first,” she said in her frostiest voice. “I’m sure you’ll be happy at U of M. I’ve—uh—got a date, so I can’t talk now.”

  His eyebrow arched. “A date in the middle of the day?”

  Flustered, she realized that she’d wanted him to think the date was more than it was, but at the last moment she chickened out. “My dad’s taking me to lunch and a play. My parents split up over the holidays.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged and turned her head away, hoping he hadn’t seen the mist that had sprung to her eyes. “No big deal. It’s been coming for months. Living here for the past few years was like living in a war zone. Now that Dad’s moved out, things are much more peaceful.”

  “You might have said something about it this summer.”

  “It wasn’t anyone’s business.” She tossed her long blond hair to make her point. She didn’t want his pity, and she didn’t want him knowing too much about her. “And Jenny House was far away, so I didn’t have to think about it during the summer. Once I got home, school started. I kept busy.”

  “You wrote me one letter last September,” Jeff said. “A kissoff, if I recall. You didn’t mention it then either.”

  “I don’t owe you any explanations about my personal life, Jeff. And since you brought up the letter, I did intend
it to end contact between us.”

  “No joke,” he said without humor. “It would have worked, except I knew I was transferring colleges and since we’ll be in the same city—”

  “Miami’s a huge city. No reason for us to run into each other.”

  “You’re the only person I know here.”

  He looked lonely and maybe even homesick. She had an instantaneous picture of herself being delivered to Jenny House against her will and remembered what it felt like to be alone and abandoned far away from everything that was familiar. Except for Katie’s determination to make her a part of the group, Lacey would have had the most miserable summer of her life instead of one of her best. She felt contrite over the way she was treating him. He deserved better. “Jeff, I didn’t mean to say you’re unwelcome. It’s just that I have a life.”

  “Hey—so do I. I’m not out to crowd you. It’s just that we were friends at Jenny House. We shared a pretty deep experience with Amanda, and I guess I’m feeling that still connects us someway.”

  Amanda Burdick had been everybody’s friend, and when her leukemia had returned and she’d been hospitalized, Lacey and her friends had visited her faithfully. Lacey found it difficult to think about her. “Mandy loved you,” Lacey said, feeling a lump of loss and regret lodge in her throat.

  “And I did everything I could to make her think I loved her too. And I did love her,” Jeff added with conviction.

  “But not in the way she thought you did.”

  “She was like a sister to me. And don’t forget, she was just thirteen. I’m almost nineteen. In the best of circumstances, it would have been a bad case of puppy love.”

  “Except that the puppy died.”

  “Low blow, Lacey.” Jeff’s expression looked wounded.

  Lacey regretted her stinging words. But then, she’d always had a problem biting her tongue when she was rattled or caught off balance. And Jeff’s sudden appearance had definitely caught her off balance. And so had the memories he’d stirred up. “Sorry,” she said.

  “Can we call a truce?”

  Frustration and guilt bombarded her. Last summer, in spite of her vow to have nothing to do with a guy with medical problems, she’d begun to care about Jeff. Then Katie had dropped the news about Amanda’s crush on him. Lacey reminded herself that she’d done the right thing—she’d backed away from Jeff and kept a hands-off policy for the duration of Amanda’s illness. And once Amanda was gone, she had decided it would be best to forget Jeff completely. He would always be a hemophiliac, and she knew how horribly painful it was to lose somebody you loved. “Truce,” she said.

  He caught her hand. “Can we seal the treaty with a date? I’d like to think I had a friend in this town.”

  His touch sent a jolt through her, but she was careful not to react. She understood his feelings of loneliness, of needing company. She felt torn, but said, “I guess so. Just for old times’ sake.”

  “What else?”

  “I don’t know what I can give you, Jeff. I’m pretty busy with school and all.”

  “Don’t be afraid of me. I won’t be a bother.”

  She was afraid of falling for him again but didn’t dare let him know. “You’ll be busy with college and I’ll be busy with my life. No problem.”

  Jeff gave her a speculative look. “Then what’s the harm of spending a little time together?”

  “No harm,” she conceded. If she attempted to tell him otherwise, she’d be impossibly late.

  “Then I’ll call you later.” He grinned and reached behind him for the doorknob. “But first—” With a quick movement he pulled her into his arms, kissed her longingly, and slipped out of the house.

  It happened too fast for her to push him away. The only sensation she felt as she watched him jog toward his car was surprise. Surprise over how the warmth of his lips lingered on her mouth like sunshine. Surprise over how much she wanted to kiss him again.

  “You’re not eating much,” her father said. He and Lacey were sitting in a nice restaurant, the kind that spread double tablecloths and sported fresh flowers in clear glass vases on every tabletop. She realized that when her parents had been together they’d not gone out to fancy restaurants much.

  “I’m trying to lose a few pounds,” she said. “Too much pigging out over the holidays.”

  “You’re not fat. You have a nice shape.”

  “Maybe for Miss Piggy.”

  Her father’s face clouded with concern. “But—um—what about your diabetes? I wouldn’t want you to have problems. Is your mother helping you? Or is she avoiding her responsibilities?”

  “Mom’s doing fine, Dad. I’ve had diabetes for five years and I know what I’m doing.” She couldn’t ever remember her father taking an active role in managing her disease. He had been scared when she’d been first diagnosed, hovering over her during her initial hospitalization but turning pasty white when asked to learn how to give her an insulin injection. Her mother had learned, in case of an emergency, but it was Lacey who’d managed her illness from the very beginning.

  “I only want to make sure she’s supporting you.”

  She almost told him that neither he nor her mother knew the meaning of the word. “Support” from her mother was nagging Lacey about blood sugar testing and forbidden foods she tried sneaking. And her father’s “support” was to hide behind his newspaper when she gave herself shots or complain to his wife because he didn’t like the meals she’d prepared or her busy work schedule.

  She looked at her father and patiently said, “I’ve been taking care of my situation for years, haven’t I? So I should know what I can do and can’t do, shouldn’t I?”

  He nodded, looking relieved. “I do worry about you, honey. You believe that, don’t you?”

  “Why worry?” She answered his question with one of her own. It seemed to her that if he was so concerned about her health, he would have been more attentive, less detached. And he’d still be living at home. “I’m sixteen. I can handle my life. Besides, it’s only diabetes. It’s not like cancer or anything.”

  He reached over and squeezed her hand. “You’ve grown up so fast. Right before my eyes. I hope you’ll be all right.”

  She extricated her hand and picked up her fork. She stabbed a wedge of tomato and offered him a smile that felt stiff and forced. “I’m fine, Daddy. Perfectly fine. Don’t worry about me one little bit.”

  Four

  “WHAT DO YOU think of my place?” Jeff turned on a lamp and ushered Lacey inside his apartment.

  She glanced around a room furnished with mismatched pieces of rental furniture and top-of-the-line stereo equipment. In one corner there were stacks of books and rolled-up posters. In another, piles of clothes were heaped on cardboard boxes. A half wall separated the living room area from a tiny kitchen. All walls were painted either coral or turquoise.

  “Of course, there’s still stuff to do,” he explained as he cleared a spot on the sofa for her to sit. “I plan to buy some boards and bricks to make bookshelves along that wall.” He pointed.

  Lacey circled the room, saw a collection of framed photos, and sorted through them. They consisted of panoramic scenes of snowcapped mountains and gorgeous sun-streaked skies. “These are good.”

  “Thanks. My hobby is photography.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  He grinned. “If I’d known that’s all it took, I’d have shown you my work months ago.”

  She returned to the sofa. The cushions felt squishy, overused. “So, how many rooms do you have?”

  “Two, if you don’t count the bathroom. The bedroom’s over there.” He motioned toward a door painted lime green.

  “Who lived here before you? Someone who was colorblind? I feel like I should put on my sunglasses.”

  “Yeah, the place needs work, all right. If I buy the paint, will you help me repaint it?”

  She wanted to agree, but an alarm went off in her head. She reminded herself that she shouldn’t spend too much time
with Jeff, or she might find herself involved with him again. “I have to begin work on my school’s play. I’m doing makeup.”

  He looked disappointed. “So maybe you can help me choose a color.”

  “White,” she offered immediately. “It goes with anything.”

  After a minute of awkward silence, he jumped up. “I went to the grocery store and bought some stuff. I got you diet soda because I know you shouldn’t drink the sugar stuff.”

  She disliked being reminded of her diabetes and wasn’t sure if she should be pleased for his thoughtfulness. “I usually drink diet,” she said, “because it cuts down on calories. Who wants to be fat?”

  He returned from the shoebox-size kitchen with a glass of clear, bubbly pop and handed it to her. “Why do girls always think they’re fat when they’re not?”

  “You know what they say—you can never be too rich or too thin.” The glass was chipped, so she turned it before taking a sip.

  “Are you really trying to lose weight? What about your diabetes?”

  “Why the third degree? I didn’t come here to be grilled.” The reference to her health annoyed her.

  “I’m just asking a question,” Jeff said apologetically. “I have to think about my hemophilia before I do anything. I’m a bleeder and have to always take it into account.”

  “I’m careful, but I don’t want to sit around gabbing about it.” She was doubly glad no one at school knew, if this was the way people might treat her.

  Jeff shrugged. “So how was the play with your dad?”

  “Cats was good.”

  “And the rest of the ‘date’?”

  “We got through it.”

  He must have sensed her reluctance to discuss her feelings about her family, because he dropped the topic and asked, “What do you hear from Katie and Chelsea?”

  “I talked to them just before you picked me up. Chelsea sounded good, scared though.”

  “Scared? She’s come through the worst of it—the operation and all. Now all she has to do is start living.”