“Anyway, that’s all over with now. Dad’s remarried, and Mom’s dating some suit from her office. They’re both happy.”
“Are you happy?” Keith ventured.
“Don’t I look happy?” She smiled broadly and crossed her eyes for effect.
“You look dorky,” he joked.
“Thanks a lot!”
Keith smoothed his hand over his bedcovers. “Were you serious about helping me out with my schoolwork?”
“You bet.”
“Then it’s a deal. You help me get through finals, and I’ll teach you how to play the guitar.”
His parents came into the room just then along with Dr. Fineman. “We’ll be taking you down for a biopsy first thing in the morning,” Dr. Fineman said.
Carrie studied his face as he spoke and noticed that his expression was professional and clinical, not at all like the silly one he’d worn at the picnic. She’d seen the look before. Her parents had worn it the night they’d told her they were divorcing, the same night her childhood had ended. It was a look that said, “Stay back,” and it made one’s eyes appear guarded, as if to seal off feelings too volatile to control, and to hold back secrets too terrible to share.
Chapter Nine
Carrie didn’t go to the hospital Thursday because Holly told her the biopsy had left Keith groggy, and Dr. Fineman wanted Keith to sleep it off. She felt at loose ends the entire afternoon and would have stayed in her room reading if Larry hadn’t been coming for supper. She watched her mother zip around the kitchen in a frenzy, acting as if royalty was arriving. Carrie set the table and made the salad while listening to her mother rattle on about Larry until she thought she’d scream.
When Mr. Wonderful did arrive, she saw how he contrasted with her father. He was slim, blond, and impeccably groomed, yet she wondered why he’d never married and had kids. He acted polite and attentive, but Carrie couldn’t change her original impression of Larry Farrell as dull and boring.
“Your mother tells me that you’re quite a good student, Carrie,” Larry said. “You’re almost a sophomore, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Have you thought about where you might apply to college?”
College? She’d barely thought past the end of the term. “No, not yet.”
“You should be giving it plenty of thought. Top colleges fill up quickly.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Her mother flashed her a warning glance that said, Don’t be rude. “You’ll have to excuse Carrie. She’s usually much more talkative, but one of her friends is in the hospital, and I’m sure that’s on her mind.”
“Nothing serious, I hope,” Larry said.
Just life and death, Carrie thought. She said, “The doctors are doing some tests.”
“I’ve been telling your mother that she needs to consider some investments so that she can contribute toward your future and her retirement,” Larry said, as if Carrie hadn’t spoken at all. “Everyone needs a nest egg, and saving even a hundred dollars a month can add up over time.” He’d cut his meat into small, neat squares and was now methodically slicing his potato.
“Let’s see,” he mused. “You’re fifteen now, and say you begin college in September, three years from now. That’s approximately thirty-nine months, and at one hundred a month, why that would be close to four thousand dollars saved.” He smiled at Faye. “That plus federal assistance would give Carrie a good start toward a top-notch education.”
“Of course, you’re right, Larry,” Mrs. Blake bubbled. “It’s hard, though, on my salary to think about saving.”
He cut himself a pat of butter and lay it directly in the center of the steaming potato. “Yes, but you’ve got a bright future at the firm, and I’m sure Carrie will be working soon. That money can be set aside.”
Carrie deliberately mashed her potato into a pulp with the back of her fork and smeared it with butter and sour cream. “I was hoping to get my own car,” she said. “Plus I buy my own clothes.”
“You’d have to weigh all the options,” he said. “A car would cost in upkeep and increase insurance rates. Still, they aren’t as high for female drivers under twenty-five as for males.”
Carrie willed butter to drip on his spotless tie. Her mother said, “I agree that saving is an excellent idea, Larry, but it’s so difficult.”
He glanced thoughtfully around the room. “You own your own home, and that’s an asset. It seems like quite a large house though. How much room can two females living alone really need?”
“I grew up here,” Carrie said, following the path of his gaze. “This is my home.”
“Yes, of course, but in three years you’ll be gone, and then what’s your mother to do? She doesn’t need to be a slave to a place like this.”
“Oh, Larry,” Faye sighed. “You’re so practical.”
Carrie felt like clamping her hands over her ears and screaming, “Stop it! Both of you shut up.” Yet it was Larry who spoke first. “One can’t get attached to objects and possessions, Faye. Possessions are assets and emotions are liabilities when it comes to the things we own.”
Carrie stood, folded her napkin, and placed it beside her plate. “I have a big test tomorrow. Mom, I really should go study for it.”
Mrs. Blake stared at her in surprise. “But we haven’t had dessert.”
Larry nodded agreeably. “Let her study, Faye. You should be glad she’s so responsible. My sister’s girl hasn’t cracked a book in two years of high school.”
Carrie escaped the dining room and sat on the top landing of the staircase in the dark. She hugged her knees and listened to the clink of silver and china and low voices. She felt like crying but wasn’t sure why. Maybe because Larry Farrell was such an idiot. Maybe because of Keith. Maybe because nothing was the same in her life anymore.
On Friday Dr. Fineman decided to run more tests, so Carrie couldn’t see Keith then, either. She spent the night at her father’s, determined to see him on Saturday. She shuffled downstairs to the kitchen close to noon and found Lynda sorting through a pile of coupons. “Where’s Dad?” Carrie asked, pouring herself some juice.
“At a job site. Then he has to clean up some paperwork at his office. In fact, that’s what I want to talk to you about.” Lynda stacked the coupons to one side. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do this summer?”
“I told Mom I want to get a job.” Carrie sipped her orange juice.
“How would you feel about working in your dad’s office? You can start Monday after school.”
“Doing what?”
“Summer is his busiest time of the year. He’s got more work than he can handle, and he’s never caught up on his paperwork. Do you know he hasn’t even sent out his snow-removal bills from last winter?”
“You’re kidding!”
“I’ve finally talked him into hiring a full-time secretary, but she’s swamped and needs help with typing and filing—stuff like that. With you helping—even part-time—by the end of the summer, she can have that office in some semblance of order.”
Carrie turned the suggestion over in her mind. “I’m not sure. It would be hard for me to get there every day.”
Lynda cleared her throat and leaned forward across the table. “Well, I had an idea about that also. Your dad misses you very much, Carrie.”
“I miss him too, but I see him whenever I can.”
“You could see him more if you lived with us this summer.”
For a moment Carrie studied her juice glass. “I live with my mother,” she said quietly.
“It would be just for the summer. Bobby misses you too. This is your home, and—”
“My mother needs me,” Carrie interrupted. “She’s busy with her job, but she’d hate living alone in our old house. I start dinner most nights when she’s running late. She always tells me how nice it is to have me waiting when she comes in.”
“Please don’t be upset. It was just an idea. Your dad and I worry abo
ut you, that’s all.”
Carrie started to get angry. “Everybody treats me like a baby. I can take care of myself, you know.”
“What if,” Lynda paused, then said more firmly, “what if you got sick again?”
“But I won’t. That’s all behind me, and except for going for bloodwork, I hardly remember that I ever had leukemia.”
“I’m sure Keith thought he was over it too.”
“What do you know?” Carrie snapped. “Or Daddy either. He was so busy warring with Mom that I could have checked into a clinic in another state and never have been missed!”
“That’s not true.”
“You weren’t even there!”
“I don’t know about having cancer, Carrie, but I do know about being the kid of divorced parents.”
Her frankness stopped Carrie cold. “Your parents were divorced?”
“When I was twelve. At least your parents have worked something out with you kids. At least your parents speak to one another. There was such hostility between my parents that my mother had to get a restraining order from the police. We couldn’t even see Dad unless under court-approved supervision.”
“I—I didn’t know.”
“It’s over now, but I know how I felt at the time. I loved them both. I often wished there were two of me so I could stay with both of them.” Lynda sighed and added, “That’s why I put off getting married for so long. I’d promised myself that I’d never get divorced, and that if I ever had a family, I’d stay at home with them.”
Carrie felt deflated; the fight had left her. “Then you know why I can’t leave Mom. Dad has you and Bobby, Mom has me.”
“But what about you?”
Carrie couldn’t answer Lynda’s question, so she ignored it. “As to working in Dad’s office, I’d like to, but I don’t see how I can manage it.”
“I’ll pick you up,” Lynda said quickly and emphatically. “We’ll create a work schedule for you, and I’ll pick you up and take you home.”
“That’s an awful lot of driving.” Carrie was mystified at Lynda’s offer. It seemed like so much trouble for her to go to. “You’d do that for me?”
“Yes,” Lynda said, her mouth set in a determined line. “For you, Carrie, and for your father too.”
Carrie nodded. “All right. I’ll work in Dad’s office. Who knows? It might be fun.” She offered Lynda a tentative smile as a sort of peace offering. She liked her stepmother and didn’t want to be at odds with her. Besides, if Lynda came from a divorced family, she understood what Carrie was feeling, and that was more than anybody else in her life understood. Even Keith.
Chapter Ten
“Any news about your friend yet?” Lynda asked as she wound her way through the Monday-afternoon traffic.
“Not yet,” Carrie said, “I’m going up to see him just as soon as I get off work today.” At least Lynda had the courtesy to ask about Keith. Her mother was so wrapped up in her job and Larry Farrell that she barely acknowledged Carrie, much less Keith. And her father was pretty much ignoring him too.
“How will you get there?”
“The bus. And I don’t care what Dad says. I’m gonna go see Keith, and that’s that.”
“You know I’d take you, but Bobby has a dentist appointment.”
Carrie felt ashamed for snapping at Lynda. It wasn’t her fault that no one in her family gave a darn about her friend.
“What’s that?” Lynda asked, eyeing the glass bowl Carrie was carefully balancing on her lap.
“A terrarium. Keith’s sort of an outdoor freak, so I got this fish tank and made a terrarium for him while he’s in the hospital. Maybe he can look at it and feel a little like he’s outside.”
“That’s thoughtful of you. I’m sure he’ll like it.”
Lynda’s comments made Carrie feel better. Why was her stepmother the only one in her family who seemed to care? “I put in plants that grow without much attention. I guess that’s what’s nice about it—terrariums take care of themselves.”
They arrived at the office, where her father’s secretary put her right to work. Lynda had been right about one thing—her father was a very disorganized person. At five o’clock he walked in the door, grimy from the construction site. She couldn’t hide her surprise and blurted, “Dad! Why are you here? Lynda said you’d be working till dark.”
“She told me you’re set on going to the hospital today. So I’m taking you.”
She stared at him, bewildered. “Why?”
“So you don’t have to ride the bus.”
“But Daddy, Keith may be in the hospital for days. You can’t take me all the time.”
“Well, I can take you today for sure. I have to pick up some stuff for the job site, and the hospital’s on the way.”
“Thanks.” She picked up the terrarium, and after climbing into his pickup, she said, “I’m capable of riding the bus, you know.”
“I know. Lynda told me I was making too big a deal out of it. She says I have to stop thinking about you as a little girl, that you’re fifteen. I have to learn to be more flexible.”
Carrie was genuinely astounded. Not only had Lynda gone to bat for her, but her father had listened. “Well, she’s right.”
“Are you two ganging up on me?”
“I hadn’t thought about it until now, but it sounds like a good idea to me.”
He groaned. “What’d I do to deserve this?”
Carrie started to talk to him then, to share her day and her impressions of his secretary and his unorganized office, and it seemed like only minutes later that the truck was pulling into the hospital parking lot. He didn’t shut off the engine. “You could come up and see Keith,” she said. “You said you liked him.”
Her father shook his head. “No, I’m too dirty. The nurses would throw me out.”
She watched his eyes shift away from the building, knowing it was more than that. What had she expected? He’d had a tough enough time visiting her, his own daughter, when she’d been sick. How could she expect him to visit a guy he hardly knew? Yet his heartlessness toward Keith irked her. Especially when she’d seen firsthand how open and caring Keith’s family was toward each other.
Suddenly she saw her father’s changed attitude in a whole new light. Maybe it was because he felt guilty about all the times he’d never visited her! They had talked about guilt in group meeting once—guilt sometimes made people act in a totally different way, going against their usual behavior. That was it, Carrie thought, feeling annoyed. Her father was feeling guilty, and now he was trying to make it up to her by taking her to the hospital and trying “to be more flexible.”
“When he’s out, ask him to come over for dinner or something.”
“Sure,” Carrie said, juggling the terrarium and shutting the truck’s door a little too hard. “Thanks for the ride.” She marched into the hospital without a backward glance, feeling entirely justified in being angry at her father. She didn’t want him to try to make it up to her. It was too late. She’d hurt too much, been through too much to forgive either him or her mother for being unable to handle her leukemia. She’d had to handle it alone. And worse—she might have to handle it alone again.
Carrie was so busy stewing inwardly that she almost collided with Hella in the lobby. “Whoops!” Carrie said, with a smile that died on her lips. Hella looked troubled, and she could hardly even look Carrie in the eye. “What’s wrong?” Carrie asked.
“It’s been a long day,” Hella said, but Carrie could sense that she was hedging.
Her pulse started thumping, and her stomach knotted. “No, it’s something else.” Hella said nothing. “It’s Keith, isn’t it?”
Hella shook her head. “You know I can’t discuss a case with you.”
“He’s not just a ‘case.’ He’s my friend.”
Hella’s expression looked torn and anguished. “Please, Carrie, don’t put me on the spot.”
She balanced the glass fish tank and announced, “I’m going up
stairs.”
Hella touched her shoulder. “Don’t bother. Dr. Fineman’s not letting anyone in his room.”
“He’d want to see me.”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
Carrie felt cold all over. “I have to know what’s going on.”
“Let me take you home. Maybe you can call his family later. They’ve been here all day—his father’s with him now—but I know Mrs. Gardner was taking the kids home.”
Carrie rode back to her dad’s with Hella, not speaking, trying to keep her mind from thinking too much. At home she put the terrarium in her room and then called Keith’s, and when Mrs. Gardner answered, she begged to come over. Mrs. Gardner hesitated but finally said, “Yes, dear. Come over. Holly needs to see you.”
Carrie paced the porch, and the minute Lynda turned into the driveway, she ran across the lawn, asking to be taken to Keith’s house. She was grateful that Lynda didn’t ask many questions, and fortunately Bobby was subdued after his visit to the dentist.
Purple shades of twilight were erasing the humid traces of day as she went to Keith’s front door and rang the bell. The house looked dark and forlorn, though flowers bloomed in large cement pots on either side of the brick porch.
Mrs. Gardner opened the door, and Carrie waved to Lynda before stepping inside. “We’re in the family room,” she said, leading the way.
Holly and the others were either on the sofa or stretched out on the floor. Carrie knew instantly that all of them had been crying. When Holly saw her, she leapt up and threw herself in Carrie’s arms, sobbing. “You’re here! Oh, I’m so glad you’re here!”
Carrie began to cry too. Mrs. Gardner stroked both their heads. “Holly, dear. Poor Carrie doesn’t even know what’s going on. Let me talk to her.” She gently peeled her daughter away, led Carrie to an overstuffed chair, and settled next to her on the armrest. She took Carrie’s hand, and Carrie could see that her eyes were red and puffy. “We got the results of Keith’s tests today.”
It didn’t take a genius to realize that the news was going to be bad. “And?” Carrie asked, her heart pounding.
Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep Page 5
