Till Death Do Us Part

by Lurlene McDaniel

  “Don't put words in my mouth. I didn't ask you to stop seeing him. I only questioned his motives.”

  “His motives?”

  “Well, I wasn't born yesterday,” her mother said in exasperation. “I know that young men don't always have pure and noble intentions.”

  “Are you saying you don't trust him? Or worse, that you don't trust me?”

  “Of course I trust you. I've always trusted you. But you're … well … vulnerable now. You just said so.”

  April slumped back into her chair. “I can't believe we're having this conversation. I can't believe you're prying into my life.”

  “I'm not prying. I'm only making an observation.”

  “It hurts my feelings that you think Mark's an opportunist. He isn't after anything. He cares about me, and I don't think you should look for ulterior motives. It isn't fair.”

  April's mother sighed. “I don't want to fight with you, honey. I know what you're going through isn't easy. It isn't easy for your father and me either. You're our only child. A child we'd once given up hope of ever having. I think what's happened to you is one of life's crudest tricks.”

  “You feel tricked? How?”

  “I'm no stranger to problems, April. I'm not naive enough to think that anybody goes through life without bumps and lumps. But after all we went through to conceive you, I thought the worst was over.” Her mother shook her head. “Your father and I wanted you so badly and when we got you, we believed that you were a gift from heaven.”

  “Do you wish you never had me?”

  “How can you even ask such a thing? You mean everything to us and we're so proud of you. I hate seeing you suffer. I'd give anything if it were me instead of you.”

  “But it is happening to me. I hate radiation. I hate knowing that something horrible is growing inside my head. It scares me.”

  “I'm scared too,” her mother said quiedy.

  “And that's where Mark comes in,” April added. “He makes me happy. He makes me feel less afraid. He makes me feel—” she started to say “loved” but stopped herself. Love was such a strong word. She wasn't sure that was how she felt about him yet. “He just makes me feel good about myself,” she finished lamely.

  “Then I won't hassle you about him. Because I want to see you happy.”

  Looking into her mother's eyes, April reconnected with the strong bond that had always existed between them. It had always been just the three of them, tightly knit with one another—Hugh and Janice and April—sometimes not knowing where one left off and the other began. Certainly she'd felt smothered by them occasionally. And she'd gone through phases of feeling awkward and embarrassed around them with her friends. But she had never defied them, or resented them, or wished she'd had other parents.

  But something was happening between her and Mark. Something she couldn't explain but could only feel. Like a ship drifting away from a dock, her parents were diminishing in importance in her life. Her parents couldn't go with her. It was a journey she had to make without them.

  “Don't these things look dorky?”

  Kelli stood with April in April's bedroom, staring into a full-length mirror. They were both dressed in their caps and gowns. Graduation was only a week away.

  “Pretty dorky,” April agreed.

  “So where are Armani and Chanel when you need them? Why haven't they tackled this fashion-design problem? I mean, anybody can create a dress or a suit, but a fashionable cap and gown—now, that's a challenge.”

  April chuckled. “These do make us look like cows, don't they?” She lifted the hem of her gown.

  “And these hats! Why don't we just wear waffles on our heads? Then at least we could eat them after the ceremony.”

  April unzipped the navy blue gown and tossed it aside. “You know we have to go through with it. My father's already got the camcorder battery charged and reservations for dinner in the city.”

  “You aren't coming to Blair's party?” Kelli sounded disappointed.

  “No.”

  “But why? It's going to be a blast.”

  “I don't mean to be a drag, Kelli, but I'm still not up to speed yet.” April had completed radiation and it had left her feeling drained and tired. Now she wanted to rest and reorganize her life. And be with Mark. But she hesitated to say that to Kelli. “I feel as if I've missed out on the last six weeks of my life. And trying to fit back in at a party isn't going to help.”

  “But everybody's missed you. I thought that once you were finished with your radiation you'd be right back into the swing of things.”

  “It's not that easy, Kelli.” She did feel bad about isolating herself from her old friends, but it had been necessary. Unlike Mark, who'd desperately wanted to belong when he was growing up, April had belonged, but now wanted to be apart. She couldn't explain it. She hardly understood it herself. “High school's over. Nothing's going to be the same again anyway, so why should I try and recapture the past?”

  “What about the plans we made for this summer? Do you want to chuck them too?”

  “What plans?”

  Kelli looked hurt. “The beach plans. When you missed the ski trip, you said you'd like to take a beach trip with the gang.”

  April thought about the beach, the warm sand and lapping waves. She did want to go. “I want to hit the beach.”

  Kelli's face broke into a grin. “I'll plan everything. I'll get the group together and we'll pick a week and find a place down the coast. I hear the beaches in North Carolina are fabulous. Why don't I check it out?”

  “Go right ahead,” April said with a smile. Her parents wouldn't object to her going. They knew her school friends and how much she enjoyed the ocean. And she figured that Mark wouldn't mind either. After all, it was only for a week.

  But with a start she realized that there was one more person who had to okay her plans. Her doctor would have to give his permission too. Radiation might be over, but she still wasn't free to take charge of her future. It troubled her. The tiny blob at the base of her skull controlled her choices. And that was the most disturbing thing of all.

  Happy graduation, honey. Here's a little something from your mom and me.” April's father opened a manila envelope and spread a handful of colorful travel brochures across the restaurant tablecloth.

  “You're giving me brochures?” she teased. “How original, Daddy.” The graduation ceremony was over. April had been one of three students in her class who received top academic honors. She had sent her college applications late, so she didn't know yet where she'd gotten in. But her academic honors, along with her high SAT scores, would improve her chances for entry into several elite schools.

  “Not brochures,” her father declared, “but a gateway to the world.”

  She studied the assortment. Greece, Hawaii, Italy, Japan, and China made an exotic fan on the tablecloth. He was offering her a trip to anywhere in the world she wanted to go. “I don't know what to say.”

  “Just pick your spot. I mean it, sweetheart. I'll take a month off and away we'll go,” her father urged.

  “How about a cruise to the Greek isles?” April's mother joined in.

  “Or the Galápagos Islands,” her father suggested. “Wouldn't you like to see the place that inspired Darwin to formulate his theory of evolution?”

  “Hold it. We can't all just take off for a month. What about your job, Dad? And Mom, what about the store? What would Caroline say?”

  “She's perfecdy capable of running the store without me. And any place we go can be a potential treasure trove for the antique store. Why, a month hardly seems long enough. Why not longer?”

  April shook her head. “Stop. Please. I appreciate the offer, but I don't want to go away right now. If I go anywhere, it'll be to the beach with my friends.”

  “But, honey, this is such a wonderful opportunity,” said her mother. “You can do both.”

  “No, I can't.”

  “But we Ve always had such a good time on trips,” her fath
er interjected. “I thought it would be our last big vacation before you pack off to college.”

  But it wasn't college that April was thinking about. It was leaving Mark for a month. When they'd spoken on the phone the night before, he had sounded hoarse and wheezy. “Just a cold,” he'd said, but she knew that for him a cold could turn into pneumonia. How could she leave him when the slightest complication could land him in the hospital? How could she expect to have a good time when she didn't know if he'd be well from day to day? The beach trip was local. She could return quickly if he had problems. If she was halfway around the world, it wouldn't be so easy.

  “Can't we save the trip?”

  “But why? You've always liked traveling with us before.” Her mother sounded hurt.

  “And I still do. Just not right now. It's my final summer before college. I'd like to hang around, get reacquainted with my friends. The last few months haven't exacdy been the most normal time of my life, you know.”

  Her parents exchanged glances; then her father said, “We don't want to pressure you into anything, April. We only thought an extended vacation would be a good way for you to put those months behind you.”

  “And,” her mother added, “a way for us all to spend time together without: the distractions of everyday life.”

  April couldn't help wondering how much her affection for Mark was entering into their decision. “I don't want to go.” She shook her head stubbornly. “Not now. Maybe some other time.”

  “But—” her mother started.

  Hugh Lancaster put a restraining hand on his wife's arm. “We can talk about it later. Tonight is supposed to be a celebration. Let's just have fiin.” He raised a glass of champagne in a toast. “To you, April. We're very proud of you.”

  “Yes, darling,” her mother said. “Very proud.”

  April smiled at them, happy that the question of traveling with them could be set aside for the time being. Tomorrow night she'd be with Mark. Mark. The person who became more important to her with each passing day. The one person she wanted to be with more than any other.

  Mark took her to the tiny Italian restaurant in his neighborhood that April had come to think of as their place. It wasn't fancy, but the food was delicious and the booths were encircled by red curtains, so they could be together in privacy. “Are you sure you feel up to eating out?” April asked.

  “I'm doing better,” Mark told her. “I'm on antibiotics and my respiratory therapist has been keeping a close watch on me. I'm going to be fine.” He grinned, but she wasn't convinced.

  “I'm not sure I believe you.”

  “Do you want me to prove it?”

  “Right here in the restaurant?”

  “The curtains are closed. We're alone.”

  “How can you?”

  He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a red balloon. “Want to watch me blow this up?”

  She stared. “Are you kidding?”

  “Do I look like I'm kidding?” He took the balloon and gave a few puffs. It swelled, but April could see the effort it was costing him. She wanted to tell him to stop. It was painful watching him huff and puff to fill the balloon with his precious breath. But she knew she couldn't stop him. He was proving something to both of them, and she knew she must wait and watch arid keep her mouth shut. At last, he tied the balloon and handed it over. “Told you I could do it.”

  Gold lettering on the balloon spelled out HAPPY GRADUATION, APRIL. A lump rose in her throat. “You couldn't have just bought me a card?”

  He smiled, his face still flushed. “I made it in my uncle's print shop. Are you impressed?”

  “Totally.” She tied the balloon to the strap of her purse.

  He reached for her hand. “After dinner, I have something else for you. It's a surprise.”

  April begged him to tell her what he was planning, but he wouldn't. She ate quickly, and when the meal was over they walked to his apartment, several blocks away. The summer city night felt steamy, and lights shone brightly from store windows. April had never been to Mark's apartment, and she was curious to see where he lived.

  “My roommate's out,” Mark said, unlocking the door. “I told him to make a night of it.”

  April's heart began to beat faster as he led her inside. The place was small and stuffy; an aging air conditioner struggled against the New York summer night. “Where's your room?”

  He gestured toward a closed door.

  “Can I see it?”

  “It's a mess.”

  “But you're still going to let me see it.”

  “Maybe later. We've got a date up on the roof right now.”

  “We can go up there in a minute. I want to see your room first.” He didn't budge. Slowly she said, “Come on, Mark. What's the big deal about me seeing your room?”

  “My room … I told you, it's a mess.”

  “So what? My room's a mess too.”

  “Because it may scare you off.”

  “Is there a dead body in it?”

  He laughed without humor. “Hardly.”

  “Then show me.”

  He led her to the door and opened it, and she stepped into his private world. At first glance, the room was ordinary. There were a bed, a dresser, a desk, and posters of beautiful racing cars on the walls. But she also saw that the top of his dresser was lined with medicine botdes. And there was a portable oxygen tank tucked into a corner near his bed. The odor of medicine hung in the air. “Welcome to my world,” he said. “Just like everybody else's. Except for the CF.”

  She walked around it slowly. The number of medicine botdes stunned her, but she tried not to show it. She stopped in front of his desk, where a computer sat beside a pile of books, most of them about medicine. “I didn't know you were planning on going to medical school,” she said.

  “I'm not. But I study everything I can about my condition. I surf the Net looking for information too. I have friends in cyberspace. You know what's really nice about cyberspace?” April shook her head. “No one can see you. So everybody's equal. People only know you by your signon name.”

  “What's yours?”

  “Speedman.”

  She chuckled. “Sounds like a superhero.”

  He stepped closer to her. “I'm no superhero. If I were, I'd be free of CF. You might say it's my personal form of kryptonite.” He took her hand. “All this medicine just keeps me going.”

  “I'm glad you showed it to me.”

  “I had to.”

  “But why? You could have hidden the bot-des.”

  “My mother cornered me last time I went to dinner. She said that if I cared about you—really cared—I should give you the total picture. Not just the fun stuff.”

  “We met in the hospital, remember? I already know you've got medical problems.”

  “More than problems, April. A lifelong condition. Barring some medical miracle, I'll never be well.”

  “Have you forgotten that I have a medical problem of my own?”

  “I don't think of you as sick. It's possible for you to get well. Not me.”

  April swallowed hard. She knew it was true. “Why did you pick tonight to tell me all this? You must have a reason.”

  Mark's gaze never left her face. “Because I'm in love with you, April. And before we go any further, I need to know how you feel about me.”

  April's heart pounded and her mouth went dry. Mark loved her. Other boys had whispered those words to her, but always in the heat of passion, when they wanted to go further physically than she'd allow them. But Mark had said “I love you” in the cool light of reason. “I—I don't know what to say.”

  “Tell me how you feel.”

  “I feel like I need to sit down.”

  He searched her face. “Come to the roof with me. I've got something special up there for you.”

  They rode an elevator to the top floor, then trudged up a stairwell, their footfalls echoing behind them. April's head spun with the bombshell Mark had delivered. He loved
her. How did she feel? She knew she cared about him. But love? She wasn't sure.

  He led her out onto the flat blacktopped roof above the city. Up there the air was cooler and the sound of the streets muffled. In the center of the roof, resting on a remnant of carpet, stood a table and two chairs. The table was draped with a cloth, and on top sat two candles, which Mark quickly lit. A small package wrapped in foil caught the candlelight and sparkled. Mark pulled out a chair for her.

  A vase filled with roses scented the night air and stars twinkled overhead in a black velvet sky, like tiny jewels. A bouquet of balloons, all imprinted with the same message as the one Mark had given her earlier, was tied to her chair.

  “You did all this for me?”

  He just smiled.

  She pointed to the balloons. “You didn't blow up all those, did you?”

  “My uncle has a helium tank.” Mark's grin was quick. “But thanks for thinking I could.”

  “Everything's perfect, Mark. Thank you.”

  “How can you say that? You haven't even opened your gift yet.”

  She fingered the small box. “You went to so much trouble.”

  “You're worth it.”

  With trembling fingers, she tore off the paper and lifted the lid of the box. Inside, on soft white cotton, lay a gold chain and a heart-shaped pendant—or rather half of a heart. The edges were jagged, as if the goldsmith had snapped it in two. Her name was engraved on the broken piece, the i in April dotted with a diamond chip.

  Pulling his chair next to hers, Mark fished his key chain from his pocket. “Here's the other half,” he said. On the chain, along with keys to his car, apartment, and garage, she saw the second half of the pendant, engraved with his name. Slowly he slid the two pieces together so that they fit neatly to form a complete golden heart. “Now it's perfect,” he said. “Two halves equal one heart. That's how I feel about us. I was just half a person until you came along.”

  Too moved to speak, afraid her voice would break, April stared at the glittering jewelry. She had no words to tell Mark how much his gesture meant. He'd made her feel more special than any person had ever made her feel. Mark took the chain, drew it around her neck, and clasped it firmly in place.