Erin Bennett 1&2 - The End of Forever

by Lurlene McDaniel

  David nudged his way through the masses, scooped Erin up in his arms, and twirled her around. “Not too shabby, ‘Maria.’ So what do you say we change and head for the cast party?”

  “I—uh—I’m not going.”

  He looked stricken. “What?”

  “No … I can’t go.”

  “Why?”

  “My folks are sort of paranoid, and they want me to come straight home. Cast parties have a bad reputation in our family. We were having a cast party the night Amy had the accident.” Erin knew she was telling a half truth. She was the one who didn’t want to go.

  “Look, Erin, this might not be the time to bring it up, but you’ve been dodging me ever since the Spring Fling dance.”

  “That’s not true,” she protested. but knew it was.

  David pulled her to a more secluded area of the stage and took her by the shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

  “I told you.”

  “What’s wrong between you and me? I mean, when we were on the beach together, you were so open and honest.”

  “I sort of lost it that night, David. It wasn’t supposed to be that way. Too much pressure—the play and all.”

  “Well, the plays over.”

  Erin’s heart thudded, and she avoided his eyes. “I know. And that means that I won’t be seeing much of you anymore.”

  “But I want to see you.”

  “Look, David, think about it. School will be out in a few more weeks, and this summer I’m probably going away, and even if I don’t, I will be going to FSU in the fall. What’s the point of us seeing each other?”

  “What’s the point? The point is, I care about you, Erin, and I want to be with you. I thought you were beginning to care about me too.”

  “Oh, I do like you.” She said it too quickly, and David gave her a skeptical glance. “I just don’t want to start something I can’t finish.”

  “Like dating me?”

  “You’ll always be a special friend.” What a stupid, juvenile remark, she told herself as soon as the words were out. Nothing was going the way Erin had planned. She didn’t want to hurt David, and she didn’t want to feel about him the wav she did either. She glanced around. “Everybody’s starting to leave. I—uh—I’d better get going.”

  David took her arm. His hurt expression had been replaced with one of determination. “You need me, Erin. No matter what you say otherwise, it’s as simple as that.”

  She blinked, speechless. Of all the conceited, arrogant—she jerked her arm free. “I’m getting out of this city as soon as I can. I don’t need anybody.” His grin started, and he backed up slowly. “You think that’s funny?” she shouted.

  “I told you once that clowns see the humor in everything. The good and the bad.”

  “Well then, go ahead and laugh!” Erin was furious. She watched him walk away, and the last thing she heard was his whistling.

  Erin moped around the house Sunday afternoon, feeling lost. She’d done her homework, TV was boring, her father was gone for the day, and her mother was driving her crazy with dumb questions about dumb things. She still wasn’t over her argument with David either. And as much as she hated to admit it, she missed him and wished she hadn’t handled things so badly the night before.

  She was grateful when the phone rang. “Erin? It’s me, Beth.” Her friend’s voice sounded small and tight.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “We got the call this morning. They have a kidney for my mother. I’m at the hospital right now, and they’re prepping her for surgery. Can you olease come and wait with me?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  For Erin, walking back into the seventh-floor waiting room at the hospital was like stepping through a time warp. Memories of the days she spent by Amy’s side overwhelmed her, and she almost fled, but out of the sea of anxious faces of people waiting for news of family and friends, she heard Beth call her.

  Quickly Erin swallowed her emotions and took a chair next to her friend. “Any news yet?” she asked.

  “They just started the surgery. It’ll take several hours.”

  “Last time they flew her to Gainesville. Why not this time?”

  “She has another doctor. And this hospital has a transplant team now too. It’s better they don’t have to fly her out this time anyway so we can all be near her. Jason’s at the next-door neighbor’s,” she explained. “He’s not real aware of what’s going on because he’s only six. He just knows Mom’s sick and the operation is supposed to make her better.”

  Erin was struck with the irony of the situation. Here was Beth trying to be an anchor for her family, while Erin felt more like a burden to hers. Her sister had lingered in a coma, trapped in a mysterious universe between life and death; Beth’s mother was still alive, but if the transplant wasn’t successful, then she would be dead too.

  “I think Amy would have approved of us donating her organs,” Erin said slowly, recalling how bitterly opposed she’d been to the idea at the time. But agreeing to donation meant turning off the machines and admitting that Amy was dead. Erin supposed that that was the part that had been the hardest for her.

  “I checked the place on my driver’s license to be a donor if I die in an accident,” Beth said. “It seems sort of wasteful to bury a body whose organs could go to help somebody who’s still alive.”

  The direction of the conversation was giving Erin the creeps, so she asked if anyone wanted a soda and then went to the machine. “I don’t want to be here,” she mumbled to herself as she opened the canned drink. There was an ache deep inside her throat she couldn’t wash away with the soda. She saw a pay phone on the wall and thought about the time she’d called Travis and he’d come to the hospital to visit Amy. Of course, he couldn’t deal with being in the cubicle with her comatose sister, and so he left and never visited again. Erin hadn’t forgiven him for that either.

  “David,” she whispered, and suddenly she wanted him with her. She needed his smile and positive attitude. She dialed his number from the pay phone. and once she explained where she was and what she was doing there, he said, “I’ll be right over.”

  He arrived within thirty minutes, and the familiar sight of him strolling into the area—hands thrust into the pockets of his baggy Bermudas, and his shirt looking as if it needed to be ironed—made her want to run up and throw her arms around him. Of course, she didn’t.

  “Thanks for coming,” Erin said.

  He flipped his blond hair off his forehead and flashed the smile she knew so well. “Thanks for asking.”

  In no time he’d tracked down the board game Aggravation from one of the nurses, and soon all of them were huddled around the board in a corner of the waiting area. Beth’s sister Willa rolled the dice, landed on David’s game piece, and sent him home to start all over again. She giggled and clapped her hands.

  “I’m a terrible loser,” David told the little girl, then reached over and produced her game piece magically from behind her ear.

  Willa stared at the empty spot on the board where her playing piece had been. “How’d you do that?”

  “You mean this?” David pulled Beth’s game piece from behind her other ear. “Or this?” He opened a closed fist, and there lay Erin’s and Jill’s Aggravation marbles.

  By now Willa’s eyes were shining. “That’s neat!”

  David turned to Erin. “See, I told you women under the age of ten love me.”

  “I never doubted it,” Erin said with a laugh.

  “Its the ones over ten I have all my problems with.” He turned back to an awestruck Willa and asked, “Would you like a dog?” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a balloon. Moments later he’d blown it up and sculpted it into a dachshund.

  By now a small crowd had collected. He made other balloon animals and passed them out, and when someone handed him a deck of cards, he performed several amazing sleight-of-hand tricks.

  Finally he announced, “Thats about it, folks.” The small gathering applaud
ed. It surprised Erin to see that an hour had passed. He took her elbow and asked, “How about we go down to the cafeteria for some supper?”

  Beth urged them to go, and once downstairs David bought their dinners and found a table near a long row of windows. Outside, twilight had fallen. “Thanks for breaking the monotony up there,” Erin told him. “You really took peoples minds off their worries.”

  I’m a natural show-off, remember? Collecting an audience is my strong suit.”

  “Still, you made everybody forget their gloom and doom.” She took a bite of her hamburger. “You also do a pretty good show—but don’t let it go to your head.”

  David feigned a fainting spell. “I can’t believe it! Erin thinks I’m a good act.”

  “Don’t be a wise guy.”

  “Well, it so happens that I’ve got some news for you about my plans this summer. Since you’re going off to dance school, I’m trying to get into clown school.”

  Erin looked blank. “ ’Clown school? You can take classes for clowning?’ ”

  “It’s part of the Ringling Circus’s permanent quarters down in Sarasota, and it puts out some of the worlds top clowns. I haven’t been accepted yet, but since you’ll be gone, why stick around here? The summer program starts in June, after the Special Olympics. You sure I can’t persuade you to help out at the games?”

  “Not this year. And by the way, going away to Wolftrap isn’t a sure thing for me either. Dr. Richardson has to okay it and persuade my parents I’m well enough to go.”

  “Why wouldn’t she?”

  “The headaches. I’m a lot better,” Erin added quickly. “But even if I was one hundred percent, my parents are dragging their feet about my going. They hate to let me out of their sight.”

  “Like the night of the cast party?”

  Erin swallowed, remembering how she’d hurt David’s feelings by not going. “They’re practically smothering me to death, David. In fact, we’re all supposed to meet in Dr. Richardson’s office this Saturday to talk about the course of my treatment and all.”

  “What treatment?” Beth asked, startling them both.

  “We didn’t hear you come up,” Erin said. “Is everything all right?”

  “Moms out of surgery, and they’ve taken her down to ICU. Her doctor says it went real well, and that the new kidney is functioning fine. ’Course, the next few days will tell us a lot more. Now, why are you going to a doctor? You never told me you were sick. I couldn’t take it if you were sick too, Erin.”

  “No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Erin said.

  “Here, sit down.” David pulled out a chair for her.

  Erin had never meant for anybody to know she was seeing a therapist, and now both David and Beth knew. She took a deep breath and told Beth about the headaches and the visits to Dr. Richardson.

  Beth listened intently. “Gosh, Erin. I never would have guessed. I mean, I thought you had it all together. You seem so sure of yourself and so composed. I was the one who was falling apart.”

  “Well, looks can be deceiving,” she confessed. David reached out and took her hand, and the simple gesture almost unraveled her. “Sometimes I guess we all need somebody to share things with.”

  “I know it helps me now to talk things out with the social worker,” Beth admitted. “But before her, I had you to share my feelings with.”

  “And I never felt like I was much help to you.”

  “That’s not true. I’ll never forget the day we ended up shopping for your prom dress. It was fun, and I sure needed the break.”

  Davids grip tightened, and he said, “Look, if everything’s all right for you and your sisters now, Erin and I will go. We’ve both got school tomorrow.”

  “Oh, sure,” Beth said. She hugged Erin when they all stood up. “I’ll never forget the two of you being here for us.”

  “Call me and let me know how your mom’s doing,” Erin said, suddenly light-headed.

  Beth promised, then hurried away. David put his arm around Erin, and she let him lead her out of the hospital and into the parking lot. Night had fallen, but the air was humid and muggy. She smelled rain. “You’re not feeling good, are you?” he asked.

  “How did you know?”

  His arm tightened. “I’m clairvoyant. And besides, your face is the color of a sheet.”

  “Oh, David.” She leaned against him. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get well.”

  “I’ll drive you home.”

  “But my car—”

  “I’ll get it back to you later tonight.”

  Thunder rumbled, and the breeze picked up. She clung to David, and when large drops of water began to spatter, she didn’t even care. He pulled her under a covered walkway. “We’ll have to wait until it lets up,” he said. “Then we’ll make a dash to my car.”

  She rested her cheek on his chest and listened as the drumming rain mingled with the sound of his heartbeat. The scents of wet grass and asphalt blended with the scent of his soap and cologne. With her arms locked around his waist, Erin looked up into David’s face. Light from the parking-lot lamps bathed him in gold. David made a circle with his open hand in front of her face, then ran his thumb along her jaw. The signed gesture told her, pretty girl. Her pulse fluttered, racing with the rhythm of the rain. She closed her eyes as he cupped her chin and kissed her tenderly on the lips.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Dr. Richardson’s office seemed smaller to Erin now that her mother and father were with her. They were sitting on a sofa, with Erin in a chair next to it, and Dr. Richardson in a chair in front of them.

  “I don’t see why we have to be here,” Mrs. Bennett said.

  “Because we want to help Erin,” Mr. Bennett told her, as if she were a not-too-bright child.

  Erin felt a tightness clamp like bands around her temples. Surely her parents wouldn’t have a fight right in front of the counselor!

  Dr. Richardson said, “I know you’ve been concerned about Erin’s headaches. When one person hurts, the whole family hurts. Can you tell me how her headaches affected you?”

  Mrs. Bennett said, “We’ve done everything we could—we’ve spent a fortune on tests—and frankly, I don’t believe she’s a whole lot better now in spite of her therapy sessions.”

  “But I am better!” Erin blurted. “They don’t come on nearly as often.”

  “But you still have them,” her mother said.

  “Erin wants to take a dance scholarship this summer,” Mr. Bennett commented, as if the exchange between Erin and his wife hadn’t occurred. “And she wants to go away to college in the fall, but with these headaches and all—”

  Mrs. Bennett interrupted. “I don’t see how that’s possible. She’d be far away, and if she got sick, who would take care of her?” Erin’s heart ached because she wasn’t sure how she’d survive if she couldn’t go away. “She’s all we have you know, and—”

  “You have each other,” Erin exclaimed. Her parents stared directly at the counselor, as if she hadn’t spoken.

  “Erin doesn’t understand how nervous we get over her moving away. She needs me when she’s sick.… Why, she can barely function.”

  “But sometimes I feel like I’m in the way,” Erin said, twisting her hands in her lap as the pressure mounted inside her head. “You have your store and all.”

  “My work helps me. It keeps me busy and my mind on other things.”

  “If you didn’t have the store, and didn’t have to worry about Erin’s headaches, what do you think life would be like?” Dr. Richardson asked.

  Mrs. Bennett toyed with an earring and stared evasively into space. “I’m sure you understand what a difficult year this has been for all of us.”

  “Because your daughter died?”

  “Yes, because my daughter died! Whenever Erin’s sick, whenever I’m busy at the store, I don’t have time to—to—” She stooped, and Dr. Richardson let the silence stretch until Erin began to perspire. She wanted someone to jump in and finis
h her mothers sentence for her sake. “Well, it’s just easier to go on from day to day if I’m busy.”

  “Dad works a lot too,” Erin said.

  “Do you work a lot?” Dr. Richardson asked.

  Mr. Bennett cleared his throat. “I’ve found work to be therapeutic. I keep occupied.”

  “He retreats,” Mrs. Bennett said. “Theres a difference.” He glared at her, as if she’d exposed him in some way

  The therapist turned to Erin. “And what do you do?”

  “I’ve already told you—I go to school, dance, and work in Moms store. We all keep busy.”

  “And what do you do together as a family?”

  “Not much.”

  “Why?”

  Erin sat on her hands. “We’re not a family anymore.”

  Her mother gasped. “How can you say such a thing? Of course we’re a family.”

  “When Amy was alive, we did things together. Now we don’t. We don’t sit around the table and eat and laugh like we used to either.” Amy used to make them all laugh. Erin supposed that there was nothing left to laugh about now. She thought of David’s clowning and of how he made her laugh.

  “But things are different now,” Dr. Richardson said. “You’re all trying to find ways of dealing with the great loss you’ve experienced. It seems to me as though you haven’t given yourselves time to grieve fully.”

  “We’ve grieved,” Mrs. Bennett said, holding her head erect and blinking. “Now we’re just trying to go on with life.”

  “Grieving is a process with many stages,” Dr. Richardson said. “Its intricate and involved, and I want to help you through it. You’re wise to use therapy to support the family while you work your way through the thoughts and feelings about Amy’s death.”

  Erin squirmed in her chair. She didn’t want to talk about Amy’s death. She wanted Dr. Richardson to convince her parents that she was well enough to move away. “So why don’t they want me to go away this summer? It’s like they’re punishing me.”