It really perked my day. Even Mom got into it and offered her opinions. She said she’d give Bailey the money to get whatever I wanted. What we didn’t say out loud is that I won’t be starting school on time. I’m trying not to think about that because we have to “wait and see” until I know how I handle my treatments. (Or is it how they handle me?)
I started the new drug combos today and I think I feel better already. (That’s the power of positive thinking!) Mom finally caved, but I know she’s not thrilled about it. Dad and I ganged up on her—unfair, but necessary. It’s MY body and MY disease. I said, “Experiment on me. Please. Just get me out of here!”
It looks like I won’t be shaving my legs for a long, long time. “Chemo hair loss” means more than saying goodbye to the hair on top of my head. My eyebrows are gone and so are my eyelashes (not to mention body hair in very private places!). Dr. Neely says it’ll grow back when chemo’s over, but for now I look smooth and round as a pumpkin. I’m glad I’m in the school’s homebound program and everyone can’t see what a freak-a-zoid I’ve become. I refuse to go to school until I look better NO MATTER WHAT.
TO: Ballerina Girl
Subject: New Meds
I’m betting this new drug will be the one! I just feel it deep inside me. I’ve got my fingers crossed for you.
Got a long letter from my dad saying how much he wants me to be a part of his family. He says that Donna’s boys are like sons to him, but I’m his REAL son and that makes him proud. I want to say, “Well, how about my REAL mother? She’s half of me too.” He can’t just take the part he wants and forget the part he doesn’t want. Life doesn’t work that way. I haven’t written him back because I honestly don’t know what to say. He expects to walk back into my life after all this time and pick up where we left off. It can’t be done. I’m not seven anymore. And he’s a different person than the one I worshiped back then.
Write soon, Jesse
TO: Jesse
Subject: Parents
I know what you’re saying. There was a time when I thought Mom and Dad knew everything, but now I know they don’t. Sometimes they look as scared as I feel. That rocked me the first time I realized it. Mom still sleeps here at night. Can you believe it? I’ve told her it’s okay for her to go home and come back the next day. She won’t. Then it hit me: She can’t make my leukemia go away and this is all she has to offer me. Her presence. So I’ve stopped telling her I’m fine without her at night. She needs to be here for reasons of her own.
Maybe your dad needs to feel like he’s still a part of your life instead of the parent who checked out and missed all those years of you growing up. Maybe he’s trying to make up for what he can’t go back and change.
Forgive me. I’ve been talking to Dr. Sanchez (the shrink) too much! I see deep meaning in everything. Too much time to lie around thinking … that’s all.
Philosophically yours, Melinda
AUDIO TRANSCRIPTION BY
DR. NEELY FOR INSERTION INTO MEDICAL FILE OF MELINDA SKYE:
Latest labs indicate that SGX-243 is working for Melinda Skye. There’s a dramatic turnaround. Her spinal fluid is clear, her white blood count is near normal, and healthy red cells are proliferating. While I’m heartened by the results, I know the treatment can’t be repeated. Let’s hope it holds. Submitted: 10:07 P.M. August 20
TO: All Concerned
Subject: Success!
Finally. The new drug is turning the tide and we’ve achieved remission, so it looks as if she’ll be able to come home before her birthday. This is a banner day. Elana and I can’t wait to get our little girl out of this place, and Melinda can’t wait to leave.
We’ve got a schedule set up for continued chemo over the next six months, but maybe the worst is over and future tests will show that Melinda’s cancer-free. I believe she’s weathered the storm and permanent remission will be achieved. She’s suffered enough and now it’s time to pick up our lives, which have been on hold ever since this nightmare began.
Thanks again for your prayers. Keep it up!
Lenny & Elana
MELINDA’S DIARY
August 25
I can’t believe I’m sitting in my own bedroom writing this. Everything looks just the way I left it before I took off to Washington, but it’s kind of unreal too. I’m so used to the hospital, the nurses’ comings and goings, the other kids, the smells of the halls, the rattle of the food carts, the doctors dropping by twice a day. The gang on my floor threw me a little party before we left—very sweet. There were balloons and cupcakes and there was a clown to entertain the little kids. I was the only teen up there and the younger kids looked up to me. Keisha, who’s six, even cried, but I promised to visit when I return for my treatments. (Maybe she’ll be out by then, I hope, I hope.)
Zorita was sitting on my bed when I got here. Bailey had tied a bow with a bell around her collar and she looked really cute. I think she’s forgiven me for leaving her for so long, because she curled up on my pillow like she used to do.
When I think over the last two months, they seem like a bad dream. But they weren’t. I know they really happened, because there’s a shunt in my chest for the upcoming chemo treatments. It’s ugly, but I can hide it under my clothes. I’m tired now and I’m going to bed with my cat.
Elana’s Journal
August 25
This will be quick. Part of me is elated to have my baby back in her room down the hall. The other part is scared witless. At the hospital, nurses were close at hand, so if Melinda had any problems I could run and get them. Here, it’s only me and Lenny. Maybe only me because Lenny travels so much.
Lenny programmed all the important phone numbers into our telephones and I have lists of emergency measures to take if something I can’t handle happens, but still it’s frightening to be the sole one in charge. I think Melinda senses my fear and ineptitude.
I pray that everything goes well. Melinda’s been through so much … TOO much for a girl who’ll be fourteen in a few days. She’s changed since June, and seems older, more stoic. I miss my little girl.
TO: Ann
Subject: Melinda’s Birthday
When I asked Melinda what she wanted for her birthday, she said, “I’d like to be cancer-free, go to Paris with a dance troupe, have boobs bigger than apricots, and see Jesse Rose.” At this time, the first three things on her list are out of reach. But seeing Jesse isn’t. If you’re willing to let him come, we’d love to fly him to Atlanta for a visit. As Lenny says, “A lot of things in Melinda’s life are out of my control, but a nonstop flight across the country for one of her friends isn’t one of them!”
I know school might have started (it has here and Melinda cried because she couldn’t go), but if you’ll let Jesse come for even a few days, Lenny and I will be ever so grateful. Please think about it and call us. If the answer’s yes, we’ll arrange everything.
Elana (with fingers crossed)
TO: Elana and Lenny
Subject: Melinda’s Birthday
How could I say no to such a heartfelt request? Besides, if I did, my son would never speak to me again! Plus, he might stow away on a plane and go anyway!
Yes, school has started, but so what? Jesse’s had a terrible summer. He talked about Melinda constantly and so wanted to see her. He had little to do after returning from New York and I felt really sorry for him moping around while I worked. Don’t tell Melinda, but he sold his skateboard and some of his baseball card collection to kids here at the apartment complex in order to send her flowers and the few presents that he’s bought for her birthday.
I wish I could make arrangements for the flight myself but I could not financially afford for him to do this. He can stay up to a week, but don’t let him wear out his welcome. And thank you. This visit will mean all the world to him.
Ann
MELINDA’S DIARY
August 30, 11 P.M.
Seeing Jesse again after all this time has been strange and wonderful at once. I�
��ve been a nervous wreck ever since Mom and Dad announced that he was coming. I was glad, but not thrilled, and I only wished they had asked me first instead of surprising me with the news. Not that I didn’t want to see him—I did. But let’s face it: I’m not at my best. Chemo has left its ugly mark. After weeks of being sick and burpy, I’m now swinging the other way: F-A-T. Dr. Neely told me this might happen (I still take a handful of pills every day plus the sucky chemo treatments), but I really didn’t think I’d look so freaky.
My face looks like a Moon Pie—round and flat, really gross. Bailey says I’m overreacting, but she’s not the one swollen up like a toad. Then I learned that Jesse was coming. I wanted to put a bag over my head. What was Mom thinking?
I was so nervous going to the airport tonight to meet Jesse’s plane that I was sick to my stomach. Dad parked the car and we walked into the terminal. The monitors flashed that Jesse’s flight from LA had landed, so we waited near the security entrance. My mouth was so dry I couldn’t even swallow. I saw him coming, because he was holding a really big teddy bear. He looks like his pictures, but taller, and his eyes are still so very, very blue. When Jesse saw me, his face turned beet red. (He was probably wishing he could get right back on the plane and head home!) We just sort of stood there staring at each other like a couple of stupid cows, then Mom started gabbing blah-blah-blah—all the way through the baggage claim, the walk to the parking lot and the whole ride back to the house! There we sat in the back of her SUV, me hugging one car door, and Jesse the other while Dad drove and Mom talked. I thought I was going to scream, “Please be quiet!” but I bit my tongue. She was ruining everything! Just talking and talking, and me and Jesse embarrassed because we really didn’t know what to say to each other—not that we had much of a chance with Mom’s mouth running. Jesse and I had “talked” through cards and e-mails, but suddenly, in person, we were strangers.
Just as I was considering opening the door and hurling myself into traffic, I felt Jesse reach across the seat in the dark and his fingers touch mine. I felt frozen in place, but his fingers warmed mine and soon I started to relax. We sat that way for the rest of the ride to the house, Jesse’s hand holding mine and Mom blabbering about everything and nothing. But by then, I didn’t care. Jesse was here. And I was with him.
Elana’s Journal
August 30
11:30 p.m.
I got under Melinda’s skin tonight with my incessant talking from the second Jesse arrived. She kept giving me furtive looks and I knew I was overdoing it, but I couldn’t seem to control my mouth. Even Lenny mentioned it to me when we were alone, saying he felt “sorry for the boy” because of my verbal bombardment. Maybe it’s the strain of the past weeks, but I vow I won’t do it again.
Seeing Melinda and Jesse together again brought back memories of the two of them in grade school. They were both so cute and practically inseparable. I loved having him around and so did Melinda. So
many memories …
She’s grown up so fast. My daughter, my child … So pretty and smart. And burdened with cancer. It’s not fair!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
To the world’s best daughter … with all our love, Mom and Dad
P.S. There’s a little surprise for you in the garage.
MELINDA’S DIARY
August 31 (My Birthday!!!!!)
This has been the best day of my life (so far)! At breakfast, I got Mom and Dad’s card and let them blindfold me and lead me out to the garage. When Mom removed the blindfold, I almost fainted. They’d had the garage converted into a dance/exercise room for me! Air-conditioning, heating, a partial wooden floor, a mirrored wall and a barre so that I can work out on my own. Also, a treadmill and StairMaster to build up my endurance. This is wonderful! Now I can go at my own pace and return to the studio when I’m in better shape. I just screeched and hugged them both. I asked Dad, “But what about the cars?” (He’s been known to obsess about his little BMW.) He said, “A little exposure to the elements never hurt a car.” And Mother said, “He’s been thinking of trading it in anyway for something more suitable for a man in his forties.” And they gave each other a little look that said they were pleased to have surprised me so totally.
Jesse tried the treadmill and the StairMaster, but he said he’d leave the barre work to me. Then Bailey came over and we had to go through the squealing and excitement again. She met Jesse and pronounced him “really cute” to me when he wasn’t around to overhear. I don’t know why I care what Bailey thinks of him, but I do. She gave me a really cool top and a beaded bracelet for gifts.
We went to Six Flags, but I was really wiped out, so I wasn’t much fun. Mom wanted to take me home, but I absolutely refused, so Dad and Jesse went on the rides together. Mom got some good pics of them and they both looked like they were having a good time. When we came home, I threw up (sure don’t want Jesse to know that part), then I crashed and slept until about seven o’clock. I crawled downstairs and they were waiting to eat. I voted for pizza, and after it came I ate a piece and felt better. Mom brought out a cake (angel food with white coconut icing, my favorite) and lit candles, and Mom, Dad and Jesse sang to me. I still can’t believe he’s really here!
Jesse and I finally got to be alone at about ten o’clock. We sat out on the porch in the swing watching fireflies.
Jesse asked, “Do you know why fireflies light up?”
“No,” I said.
“It’s the way they tell each other that they’re available,” he said. “Nice trick,” I said.
“See?” he said, pointing into the darkness where the bugs kept glowing on and off. “That one’s saying, ‘Find me, find me.’ And another is saying, ‘Here I am, here I am.’ ”
Jesse took my hand and my heart started to pound like a drum. He reached under the swing and brought out a box. (I must have been asleep when he put it there.) He said, “Happy birthday.”
I unwrapped it and held up a beautiful ballerina figurine. She’s perfect and very fragile.
“It’s made of porcelain,” he said. “That’s supposed to be nice stuff.”
I told him how much I LOVED it. I wanted to hug him, but I was too shy. Good thing too, ’cause Mom came out and said it was time for a snack (our code for “time to take more pills”).
The ballerina is on my dresser, in the place of honor she deserves, and I see her whenever I look up.
I’ve known Jesse forever … I wonder if what I felt for him tonight is l-o-v-e? Mom would say I’m too young to be in love, but I don’t know.… He’s very special to me. He makes me glo
w.
Elana’s Journal
August 31, 11 P.M.
Tonight, as I looked at Melinda and Jesse together, I saw a woman inside my child. And I saw how Jesse looks at her, with adoration, pure sweet adoration.
He doesn’t appear to see the effects of her cancer on her, which is a miracle, I think. I’m grateful that he has been so kind to her. How awful it would been if he had acted like a jerk and rejected her. How would she have accepted his rejection? It would have crushed her. If he chooses not to stay in touch once he returns to California, I’ll understand. But until that happens, I bless that boy.
If I could put the joy of this day in a bottle and save it, I would. It helps balance out those days in the hospital when all seemed bleak and lost. My child is growing up … and as her mother, I’m torn between wanting it and dreading it. I wish my mother were still alive and that I could talk to her.
Happy birthday, Melinda, my daughter, my child. I love you so very much.
TO: Mom
Subject: My Visit
I’m using Melinda’s computer to write this while she’s napping. Her mom said it’s OK, that my tapping on computer keys won’t wake her. I like being here and seeing her again. I was afraid during the flight that she’d think I was some nutty kid from a past life she’d HAD to invite just to be nice. I was afraid she didn’t really want me here but had agreed to my visit so she wouldn’t hurt her parents’ feelings. She’s told me though that she’s glad I’m here, and that she hopes we can be friends forever. Nice, huh?
I like her mom and dad as much as I ever did (although her mom talks a lot, but DON’T tell her I said so). You should see the way they fixed up their garage so that Melinda can begin dancing again! BTW, her dad’s taking us all to a Braves game Friday night (if Melinda feels like it). He’s on flight duty now, but he’ll be home tomorrow.
True Love Page 29
