The cancer clinic was near the big hospital in the middle of town. On the outside, the place looked cheerful, with low-cut boxwoods stretching down the brick exterior all the way around the front and a sidewalk lined with pretty, blooming flowers of all the colors in the rainbow.
Inside, it was a much different story; rows of identical, pale blue easy chairs pushed against the wall, each one with a patient sitting in them, and each patient hooked up to an unnatural, neon-yellow bag of fluid that slowly dripped out the poison that doctors hoped would cure them. What little natural light there was came from narrow, slit-like windows situated at the top of one wall. The rest was a steady, reliable glow from the rows of fluorescents arranged overhead. A few nurses walked around quietly, checking connections or talking amongst themselves.
There were dozens of televisions that hung down from the ceiling so the patients that weren’t sleeping could watch something to pass the time and large bins placed around the room held loads of old magazines to read. The scent of bleach and cleaner hung in the air and reminded me of a nursing home I’d spent a few weeks interning at during spring semester. It was difficult to get past the depressing atmosphere of the place and being there made me feel out of sorts.
“This isn’t so bad,” I said, trying to encourage myself along with mother, who was busily clicking the buttons on a remote control. “Nicer than the one I toured in school.”
“I ain’t never spent so much time watching television in all my life, honey. It feels downright lazy sitting ‘round like this, when there’s so much work to be done at the house.”
“It’s not lazy. You’ve got cancer, momma.”
She only held up one hand and waved my comment off, like cancer wasn’t a big deal at all and clean dishes were the height of importance. When the nurse came by to hook her up, mother looked away with a sick expression while the woman went about the work of flushing out the tubing and attaching the thin hose full of medication to her arm.
“Mary Katherine, ain’t no use in you wasting your entire day sitting here with little ol’ me.” Mother unzipped her purse, which never left her shoulder outside the house, and she handed me a crumpled hundred dollar bill. “Take the car and go on down to Folson’s. The cupboards are nearly bare and your father ain’t much for shopping. That ought to be enough to get some groceries for the house.”
I looked up at the friendly nurse and she gave me a slight nod, as if to say that wasn’t a bad idea and that she’d leave too if she could.
“Momma, are you sure? Won’t you get bored sitting here all alone?”
“I’m sure. Got my stories here to keep me company. Go on now.”
I felt bad about leaving her there, but I couldn’t help being a bit relieved to get out of that depressing place. A quick shopping trip would be a nice distraction, and I hadn’t really been out in public anyway since I left the hospital weeks ago. Some chocolate would be especially nice, and Folson’s had an entire counter full of freshly-made desserts. Maybe mother would be able to stomach a few bites of something sweet, and if she couldn’t, I knew I could!
Midday meant few other shoppers, which was perfect. I browsed down the aisles, dodging the workers as they loaded up the shelves with new items, and picked up things I had noticed we needed at the house. At the deli counter I spent the most time, eyeing peanut butter cookies, scratch made apple and blueberry pies, and a triple-layer fudge cake with so much icing I had to wonder how it didn’t fall flat under its own weight.
While I was enraptured by the delicious calorie bombs behind the glass, another customer began browsing beside me. I didn’t pay her much mind until we both turned and caught eyes, and then I instantly recognized her.
Cindy Reid. She was dressed in a thin, monochromatic sports vest with a matching pleated skirt that barely covered the tops of her thighs. Her long, near-blindingly blonde hair had been tied back into a conservative ponytail that bounced on the back of her head and the visor she wore covered the front. She looked every bit like she had just been out playing tennis for the day at the country club. I thought such a proposition absurd, because breaking a sweat was far too unfashionable for her.
I’d known her well during high school and she didn’t seem to have changed one bit. We’d spent as much time getting into trouble back then as we had bickering with each other, so I guess a stranger might think us as friends at a glance, even though we definitely weren’t. Her family had roots in Kirkland and they owned the largest phosphate plant in the entire region, which also made them one of the richest families to ever set foot in eastern North Carolina.
She was still thin and attractive, and obviously not afraid to flaunt it. Not a strand of hair was ever out of place on her head and the clothes she wore were always the most expensive, something that drew the ire of many girls that walked the halls of our school. They’d even nicknamed her ‘Cindy-rella’, and most of them spent the entirety of high school wishing the clock would strike twelve.
We had what I would call a pretend friendship during those years. She didn’t want to leave any of the pretty girls out of her clique, and I didn’t want to be on the receiving end of her wrath. Mostly that involved being able to avoid the more vicious rumors she spread about everyone she didn’t like or weren’t in her little club. Our bickering was almost always related to the boys we wanted to date, and Hale was no exception. Cindy had tried everything she could think of to get her claws in him, even after we started dating. For whatever reason, not being able to have him only made her want him more.
Well, I thought. Now she can have him.
Cindy looked even more surprised to see me than I was to find her in such a low-budget type of place. Before I could say a word she let out an excitable shout. “Kat Atwater! Hey, you!” Then, she rushed forward with a series of skittering little steps and gave me a huge, uninvited hug. “Girl, this town just ain’t been the same without you here! How long has it been?”
“Almost four years Cindy, if you can believe it.” I pointed to her outfit and tried to smile. “Looks like you’ve been staying…active.”
She beamed at the backhanded compliment. “Oh, you know! Miss Kirkland has gotta keep her figure.” Then she gave a little frown and shook her head as she looked at me, unimpressively decked out in a pair of old Reeboks, some cutoff shorts, and a boring print t-shirt I’d bought from Wal-Mart. “You know I hate seeing people let themselves go, Kat.”
“So,” I said, hoping she would go away but not having any luck, “What brings you here? Did the maid stop making grocery runs?”
She snapped her head back and answered, “Oh, you’ve still got that sense of humor, I see! But no, I’m just here to pick up a treat for someone very near and dear to my heart.”
“Yourself, you mean,” I groaned under my breath.
“What’d you say dear?”
“Nothing. Just picking out something for my mother. The chocolate one looks nice, doesn’t it?” I offered, although a sour taste was developing in my mouth.
“It’s not bad. I put in a custom order, of course.”
I looked around, hoping someone would hurry up and come take my order. Standing there with Cindy was beginning to make me feel ill. Down at the other end of the deli counter, the only clerk that appeared to be working was still haggling with a woman that looked every bit of a hundred or more and wouldn’t accept her turkey until it was cut into paper-thin slices.
“Of course. Who could think of buying something right off the shelf?” I said.
“Uh huh,” she answered, ignoring my jab, and said conspiratorially, “I heard all about what happened, with the crash that is. Terrible, just terrible. I sure was glad to hear that you were all right.”
“You were?”
She sucked air between her teeth. “Sure I was, silly.” Cindy raised her hand and waved it to get the clerk’s attention before turning back to me and lowering her voice. “Is it true what I heard? That some man pulled you out and saved you?”
I
nodded and tried not to frown. I’d been so wrapped up in my own recovery and taking care of mother, I hadn’t gotten the chance to find out anything else about Shane. “He was sitting next to me on the bus before the wreck. If he hadn’t been there…I don’t want to think about what might have happened.”
“How come I didn’t hear about him in the news? Something like that, they’re usually all over it. An honest to God hero, and all they talk about is the Bucks game or what the mayor is up to this week, like anyone cares about that stuff.”
“I don’t know,” I answered with a shrug. “He didn’t seem like the kind of guy that wanted attention.”
“I know one man that always loved getting your attention,” Cindy said and gave me a devious wink. “But I hear that ain’t the case anymore. Not too big of a surprise, really.”
I shrugged and turned my attention back to the wondrous confections arranged under the deli counter glass to avoid showing any emotion. As mad as I was at Hale, seeing how happy Cindy was to throw our breakup in my face had me seeing red.
“You know, I should stop by his place tonight on my way home, just to see how he’s handling your unfortunate recent circumstances. I know right where it is, been there myself more times than I can count since you went off to school and left him here by his lonesome.”
“What? We just broke up-” I pushed the words out through gritted teeth.
“Should I pick him up something for that sweet tooth of his? You know how he loves something sweet. Maybe some strawberries and some whipped cream?” My face was burning as she licked her lips and continued, “Mmmm…that sure sounds good, doesn’t it?”
Instead of losing my cool and punching her right in the jaw, I grabbed my shopping cart, swung it around angrily, and stomped away from the sound of her sickening voice. The triple-layer fudge cake would have to wait. If I had to listen to Cindy Reid’s dirty, flapping lips for one single moment longer, she’d be wearing the damn thing.
Seven
“That girl is and always has been jealous of you,” mother said when I filled her in on my chance encounter with Cindy. “Been like that since you two was youngin’s.”
“Then why do I feel like the jealous one?” I grumbled, conveniently leaving out the part where Cindy told me that she’d been sleeping with Hale behind my back while I was away at school.
“It’s just that money, it sure ain’t her character. You don’t want to be like that, Mary Katherine. Little Cindy Reid ain’t never pulled a weed from a patch of ground, nor shucked an ear of corn in her whole blasted life. She jus’ sits back with her hand out, and when she puffs them big ol’ lips out and flips that fancy blonde hair around, most is content to look past her crooked smile and give her what she wants.”
Mother uncrossed her arms and pulled the visor down as we rolled through the last light out of Wilmington and towards the afternoon sun. It was nice to know not everyone in town was fooled by that stuck-up snob. As mother straightened her hair in the mirror, sparse gray strands of it would stick to the moisture in her fingers and fall into her lap. “Lord help me...I’m gon’ be bald-headed as that fella in them commercials ‘fore it’s all said and done.”
“Do you think Hale would-” I paused, sure of what she’d say, but I completed my thought anyway, “…do anything with her?”
She blew out expressively and rolled her eyes. “Hale? Wouldn’t surprise me, honey.”
“I saw his truck out by Daddy’s garage this morning. He’s volunteered to help out with the equipment for free since Dale said he was getting too old to work on it anymore.”
“That ain’t why he’s doin’ it, little girl. You know he’s jus’ tryin’ to get you to take him back. Thinks he can go at it through the back way, I spec.” She looked over at me and raised a brow. “From the looks of it, it’s already workin’.”
I shook my head. No. She was wrong.
“I still haven’t forgiven him, Momma. Even if I do, I’m done with Hale Ellis.”
The rest of the drive was mostly uneventful, and the old Lincoln handled the bumpy gravel driveway leading up to our property with ease. Once we’d arrived at the house, my sister Abby came bounding off the porch to greet us.
She’d inherited mother’s golden-honey hair, which she’d braided along the sides and tied together into one long ponytail, and her eyes shone with the same sparkling deep blue of our father. Most folks didn’t peg us as sisters right off the bat, since we’d gotten almost the exact opposite features. Still, she was just as precocious as I had been at that age and we did share the same dimples when we smiled, so it didn’t take long for strangers to catch on to our relation.
Abby was wearing a short, faded green dress with strips of white trim along the edges that I instantly recognized. It had belonged to me at one time, but it was now relegated to the pile of hand-me-downs that grew steadily larger in her closet. The dress fit her well enough, so it had become part of her collection. She was nearly as tall as I was and could probably go through and pick out the clothes I’d left behind in my room if she wanted.
As she raced to mother’s side of the car, Abby had to turn her head to avoid the dust that followed us in. When it settled, she pulled open the door and helped mother out and up the front steps ahead of me.
“I got it now, sugar,” mother said to her as she eased into one of the wooden chairs surrounding the kitchen table.
“Can I go to Katie’s house?” Abby shot back quickly. “Miss Highlander is taking her to the mall after dinner and she invited me.”
“You’re gonna let that money burn a hole in your pocket, ain’t ya?” Mother said to Abby and then turned to me, “She earns a few dollars sweeping up or doing some chores and out she goes to spend it.”
“That sounds familiar, except you and Daddy never gave me an allowance,” I said and set down the bag of groceries I was carrying. Hanging out the top of the bag was a plastic-wrapped box of generic vanilla wafers. They were a sad replacement for the triple chocolate cake I’d had my eye on at the deli counter. “I had to save up Christmas money, or birthday money.”
“Or whatever your granny slipped you when we went for a visit,” mother reminded me.
“So, can I go?” Abby said impatiently. “Please?”
“I s’pose. Go help your sister get the rest of the groceries out of the trunk first.”
At that, Abby dashed through the screen door like a bolt of lightning, letting it bang loudly behind her. Moments later, she returned with her arms full of groceries and chucked them with difficulty onto the counter beside me. She was still out of breath and red in the face by the time I finished putting the all away.
“That’s the last of ‘em,” Abby said pridefully. “Got ‘em all in one trip.”
“Thank you, dear,” mother answered.
“Did you close the trunk?” I asked, while balling up the empty plastic bags into one another.
Abby blew out and rolled her eyes. “No. I couldn’t get it.”
“Well, get out there and shut it. Never know when it might rain.”
“Not today,” she answered on her way back to the door, going more slowly this time. “Daddy says it’s as dry as the Sahara out there. Been like that for weeks. Gon’ be like that all next week, too.” Before she reached the handle, Abby turned on her heels and scooped up some papers from the table next to it. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I picked up the mail while ya’ll was gone,” she said, and handed me a thick stack of envelopes.
The first few that I thumbed through were from the hospital or one of the many doctors mother had gone to for treatment. I wondered how much longer my parents could afford to keep paying Abby an allowance, much less keep the power on, now that medical bills had begun to arrive.
I wished that I could wave a magic wand and make all the bills go away. What little money I had leftover from my student loans after tuition, books, and uniform scrubs went to paying my rent back in Watauga. If I had to give it up, I would, but for the time being I would st
ay positive. Soon enough I’d be back to studying in my cramped single-bedroom apartment in the mountains.
After helping mother to bed for a nap, I changed into my riding clothes. It would be nice to get away from people for a while. I needed to get outside and into the fresh air while it was still warm and the leaves had yet to fall. My leg felt strong enough to ride and the persistent ache had almost completely vanished. It was time to pay a long-overdue visit to Zip and Ruby.
Both horses were so glad to see me that I could hardly stop either of them from nuzzling their fuzzy, whiskery faces against my neck or biting at the rolled-up sleeves on my plaid shirt to try and get me to keep petting them. Since Ruby seemed to prefer grazing in the meadow over riding, I let her out and wiped down one of the brown leather saddles hanging under the loft and took Zip out for a ride instead.
His slick black coat glistened in the late afternoon sun as he turned this way and that, anxious to go. Zip was always my favorite; steady, reliable in the way he moved, and he could run so fast over the smooth, flat plain of the meadow that you had to hold on to the harness with both hands for fear of sliding off the back of the saddle.
I took him along the outskirts of the meadow at a light trot to warm him up, right along the border of our farm and the Johnson’s apple orchard. He always loved it around this time of year because occasionally he could find a plump, ripe one that had rolled far enough under the fence to snatch up. Without slowing down, Zip would sweep his big head down and scoop up an apple and eat it on the go. When it was time to run, though, running was all he focused on.
“Let’s go,” I called out and tapped the heel of my boots against his hindquarters. The effect was almost instant. Zip jolted forward, ignoring all the apples that might have fallen, and raced down the borderline at full speed, tearing apart the ground with his hooves. I flattened myself against him, feeling the wind race over my back and in my hair, blowing with it all the troubled thoughts that clouded my mind.
Love Lift Me Page 6
