I moved to the bed, gazing down at Marilee, locked in a place that nobody could access. I knew with every fiber of my being that I had to break through. I had to somehow find her in the shell of her body that held her prisoner. I needed to bring her back to me. I didn’t know if I could go on without her. I’d heard about people who had supposedly died of heartache when a loved one had died, and up until that moment I hadn’t believed it was more than a bunch of crap. Now I knew it was more than a little possible.
I brought my lips to Marilee’s, kissing her as if she were Snow White or Sleeping Beauty. Right then I wanted to believe in fairytales, and that I could magically heal her and bring her back to me. But I knew I was only a human and magic just didn’t exist.
“I have to go for a minute,” I said, placing my shopping bag on the floor.
I didn’t wait for a response from Luanne or Harold before I left. Then I was striding down the corridor as if drawn by an invisible force. When I arrived at the place that was called a meditation room which was really just a non-denominational prayer room, I fell to my knees on the carpeted floor. I wasn’t religious, in fact I’d never prayed in my life, and that’s what made the urge to do so now so odd.
I’d always believed there was something more than what we saw on Earth, and that when people died they didn’t just go in the ground. I couldn’t believe that the energy that animated us, made us living beings, just ceased to exist when we died. I believed in the theory that energy was infinite, it definitely changed forms but it always existed. So it made sense that when a person died their energy had to go somewhere. Where exactly, was beyond me.
But right there in that place, where the walls seemed to ooze quiet, I prayed to whoever was listening that Marilee would come back to me. No one answered.
An hour later I returned to Marilee’s room. Harold and Luanne weren’t there. When I spotted their coats slung over the back of a chair I knew they weren’t very far. I cast my eyes over the paintings, studying every brush stroke, imagining Marilee’s hand moving, creating every piece. I wanted Gran to see Marilee’s work. In fact I wanted the whole world to see what she’d done so they could witness her beauty, so evident in her paintings.
Still mesmerized by the pictures, I sat in the chair at Marilee’s bedside. I threaded my fingers through hers, massaging her fingertips, wishing that she would show some sign that she was still there, but there was nothing.
“Hello Jackson,” Gran said from behind me. I startled and turned toward the door. She was dressed in her grey and black tweed wool coat that fell to just below her knees. Her hand knit dark grey hat was covered with melting snow. She pulled her leather gloves off her hands and tucked them into her pocket.
“Gran what are you doing here?” I said, standing up. Gran ambled over to me with a twinkle in her eye.
“I came to see Marilee,” she said.
She stood at my side, staring down at Marilee.
“You need to pin the Guardian Angel to her shirt Jackson,” she said.
I reached into my pocket, pulling out the tiny pin that I’d all but forgotten about. Gran took it from my hand then leaned over and pinned it to Marilee’s sky blue Johnny shirt. As usual there was no response from her. The petite angel glittered under the florescent lights. Somehow knowing it was there on her shirt made me feel better.
“I don’t know if she even believes in Angels,” I said.
Gran shook her head. “It doesn’t matter if she believes in them because they believe in her,” Gran whispered. She let her fingers graze Marilee’s forehead. I was sure she made the sign of the cross as if she were blessing her.
Gran had been brought up Christian though now she didn’t belong to any particular group since they didn’t look kindly upon fortune-telling. Which didn’t make sense to me because Gran was one of the kindest and most giving people I knew. Any religious group should have been more than happy to have her in their congregation. For her part, Gran always said she didn’t need to be part of any of it because her religion, if anyone wanted to call it that, was about doing the right thing, giving when you could. In her words one act of kindness was worth a lifetime of empty promises.
Gran flipped Marilee’s hand over and traced the lines of her palm.
“This girl isn’t finished living yet Jackson. She’s going to come back to you,” she said. The absolute conviction in her statement made my heart lurch with anticipation because Gran never said things that she didn’t believe. That meant that something in Marilee’s hand said she was going to be all right. I wanted to cling to Gran’s words as if believing in them would make them real.
Gran stepped back, wrapping her small arm around my shoulders. It made me feel safe. “Don’t ever lose hope Jackson. Hope is a priceless commodity that will see us through our darkest times.”
I nodded. Once again we stared down at Marilee as if expecting a Christmas miracle to occur. Unfortunately it didn’t happen, not that night at least. Three days later it did.
I’d been in the middle of a shift at the hospital when I heard my name over the intercom to report to the Step Down Unit. Even before the announcer had finished I was at the stairwell, taking the steps three at a time. Fear mixed with anticipation because as far as the doctors had said Marilee could still go either way. Luanne and Harold were out in the hall, waiting for me. From the expressions on their faces I knew the news was good.
“Is she awake?” I asked, breathless from running.
“See for yourself,” Harold said, pointing toward the door that led to Marilee’s room. I rushed by him. In my haste I almost barreled through him. It was lucky for both of us that he had enough forethought to move out of my way. As soon as I was in the room I knew that something had changed. As crazy as it sounded, it actually felt different. I had no idea how to explain how it felt different, only that it did.
Marilee was propped up in the bed. Her eyes were closed just like they’d been every day that had passed since she’d had her reaction. The breathing tube was gone though and that fact alone gave me hope. Before I’d made it to the bed her eyes fluttered open and she locked on me. I held my breath waiting, hoping and wishing with my very core, that she would be just like she’d been before she’d gone into a coma. The doctors had said that though her EEG, a brain scan, was good, she could still have brain damage.
“Jax,” she said, extending her arms toward me.
It seemed to take every bit of her will just to do that much. I was sure that in that moment I stopped breathing for a few seconds. It was like seeing a mirage in the desert, I wasn’t sure if it was real. How could she come back to me as quickly as she’d gone? Then she was in my arms with her face against my chest. I kissed her head, her cheeks, the tips of her ears and any part of her where my lips could reach. I never wanted to let her go again. Marilee dug her fingers into my hair, tugging my face to hers. She kissed me full on the mouth before she fell back against the pillows, spent. I leaned in, planting another kiss on each of her closed eyes.
“Never leave me again,” I murmured against her cheek.
“I’ll do my best,” she said weakly.
When I brought my eyes back up to hers I realized that she had drifted off to sleep again. I wanted her to wake up and talk to me. I had so much to tell her. I wanted to thank her for the paintings, and give her the Christmas gift I’d had there waiting for her since Christmas Eve. I wanted to tell her that I loved her over and again, until the mantra was the only thought she had. But of course she had a long recovery ahead of her. Some part of me knew that we’d been given a second chance. There would be time to tell her all the things I wanted to. Didn’t we have forever?
22. Marilee
For the twentieth time I thumbed through the book that Jax had put together for me. I never tired of looking at the snapshots and words that told the story of the people who Jax and I had helped through the Peace Project. Some day I wanted to meet them because even though the pictures told the story, being there with them wo
uld have somehow meant so much more.
“I’ve got another list of twenty. I figure I’ll start it when you’re completely back to normal,” Jax said.
“Whatever normal is,” I said, sighing.
It had been so long since I’d been just a regular healthy teenager that I didn’t know what it felt like anymore. He drew me closer to him and I snuggled in, satisfied to be with him in a place that wasn’t the hospital. It had been three weeks since my near brush with death, and even though I was still recovering I felt stronger every day.
I had been discharged from the hospital for the time being, my chemotherapy was on hold until my blood counts went back to normal. Even though I hadn’t gotten a full course of the chemotherapy it had had dramatic effects on my body, and had brought my immunity system to the brink of non-existence. I’d been on reverse isolation which meant that I was isolated from people in a reverse pressure air room that kept bugs and viruses out. Everyone who visited had to wear a long sleeved yellow gown, face masks, hair nets like in the operating room, and even gloves and booties over their shoes.
I knew that it had been for my own protection but to me it seemed more like torture than something that was set up to help me. The whole time I was in the isolation room, I ached for Jax to hold me in his arms and kiss me just like he had before. That was most definitely out of the question.
I tried to sneak a kiss from him a few times, attempting to take his mask off but he’d grabbed my hand in mid-air, essentially putting a damper on any more ideas I might have had about bypassing the rules. As he’d told me, he’d almost lost me once and wasn’t about to play Russia Roulette with my health. I absolutely got the whole hot and bothered concept because even dressed like a mummy, Jax looked hot and most definitely kissable.
“You know what I mean, when your blood is back up to where it should be,” Jax said, bringing me out of my thoughts. I nodded, running my fingers over the image of Mrs. Mori, a tiny woman with silvery hair and a proud face, that seemed to say that no matter what life had thrown at her she’d survive. Jax had managed to get a shot of her throwing birdseed in the park. The seeds formed a frozen airborne spray. Hungry pigeons swooped in mid-flight to enjoy the treats garnered. A shiver ran down my spine as it always did. Helping people felt more than good, it felt amazing.
“Well, according to my last set of blood tests, that actually might happen sooner than later,” I said.
I brought my focus to his face. He shot me a one dimpled grin that still managed to make me melt into a puddle of longing. It seemed so right for him to be there with me in my own bedroom. Any concerns I’d had about my parents accepting Jax had vanished when I’d woken up from a coma, and found that not only were Mom, Harold and Jax talking to each other, but that they actually seemed to like each other.
I wasn’t going to ask how it happened because I didn’t care, everyone getting along made things so much easier. Not to mention that Mom had gotten wind of the Peace Project and she’d made it her mission to get sponsors so we could do it on a larger scale, and eventually help even more people. I wasn’t sure I was entirely thrilled about Mom getting involved since it had been something that had been Jax and mine only. But I couldn’t very well tell her to get lost either. The more money we had, the more people we could help. Mom had even suggested we hire some people to help us, I wasn’t sure if Jax or I were that willing to let go of the reins that easily.
Jax leaned forward, tilting my head back until I was looking up at him. He covered my lips with his for a long kiss. All I could think was that right there in his arms, with nothing to do but be together, life was utterly and absolutely perfect.
The End?
If your deepest desire is for a happy ending, please stop reading now, for those of you who are willing to see something else, read on…
The Story Continues...
23. Marilee
5 Months Later
I twirled in my dress one more time, watching the rose chiffon feather out around me like a fairy princess. I knew I was acting a little juvenile, but I didn’t care. Prom was a few days away and it seemed I’d waited my whole life for this time to come. With Jax at my side I knew everything would be perfect. It certainly helped that my last battery of tests had shown that I was in remission.
After the road I’d traveled in the past ten months it seemed life had finally taken a turn for the better. My hair had grown back enough that I was pulling off a very cute pixie cut, and I’d gained enough weight that I could actually fill out the bodice of my dress. Even Mom and Harold hadn’t been as irritating as they’d used to be. And of course there was Jax, my own rock star boyfriend that my friends drooled over every time they set eyes on him.
I positioned the tiara on my head, shocked that I actually planned to wear it. Mom had bought it for me years before on the off chance that I might someday decide to put it on. Surely pigs were going to fly soon since that’s when I’d told Mom that I’d wear something as lame as a tiara. I spun around one more time, appreciating how my dress accented all my restored curves. I couldn’t wait until Jax saw it.
I was just about to take one more twirl when my phone rang. A while back I’d changed my ringtone to Creep, so that every time it played I remembered the first night I’d heard Jax sing.
“Hey,” I said, smiling into the phone.
“Hey Marilee,” he said. My stomach fluttered like it always did when I heard his voice. I wondered if he’d ever stop having that effect on me. I secretly hoped it would never go away.
“Are you coming over tonight?” I asked, not sure if he was working or not.
“No, that’s why I’m calling. I’ve got stuff to do tonight so…”
His voice trailed off. The elation I’d felt just seconds ago dissolved. I knew Jax couldn’t come over every night. He had a life away from me and with me healthy again, things had slowly dropped back into routine. It meant that Jax and I weren’t together as much as before. It was the one downside to being out of the hospital. When I’d been a patient I’d seen Jax every time he’d come to work.
“Oh,” I said, trying not to let him hear the disappointment in my voice.
“I’m sorry Marilee,” he said.
“It’s okay Jax. I’m not that self-centered to think that I’m the only person in your life,” I said.
“I’ve got to go,” he said, so abruptly that I wondered if my comment had inadvertently ticked him off.
“Jax, I was just joking, I didn’t mean…” I started to say.
“I know,” he said. The line went dead.
I stood staring down at the phone not sure what had just happened. Jax had never cut a conversation that quick, ever. It made me wonder if something was up with him. Was Gran sick?
I punched in Jax’s number. He picked up after the first ring.
“Hi?” he said.
“Is Gran okay?” I blurted out.
“Yeah she’s fine, why?” he said, curiosity in his tone. I shook my head still not sure what was going on.
“It’s just that you hung up so fast, I worried…” I started to say.
“There’s nothing to worry about, everything’s fine,” he cut in. And even though he’d said the words I didn’t believe him. Something was most definitely not fine, and I didn’t understand why he wasn’t telling me what the problem was.
“I really have to go,” he said. As before, the phone went dead.
Every part of my brain screamed to call him back, but I knew that I’d look like a pathetic cling-on loser. There was no doubt that Jax loved me, so this about face made no sense. I stared down at the phone still clutched in my hand. I vowed that no matter what, I was going to find out what was going on with him.
The next day at school I met with the Prom committee to go over the last few details about how everything was going to go. Courtney had done most of the work while I’d been in the hospital, but in the three months I’d been back at school, I’d become involved with the plans again. The Winter Wonderl
and theme had stuck. Even though I’d at first thought it was a little silly, when I’d seen all the pieces come together I’d had to admit it was going to be cool. Besides, it was my senior year and the last prom I’d go to, whatever mountains I had to move to make it that way, it had to be perfect.
When I strode into the school gym, just in the beginning stages of decorating, I was already impressed. The Prom committee had done some major fundraising while I’d been sick, so money wasn’t an issue. If all went as planned the gym would literally be transformed into a winter landscape. To me it wasn’t just a prom, it was almost like a second chance for Jax and I to have the Christmas that we’d missed together. I slung my messenger bag over my shoulder, and was making my way to the front door when my phone pinged in my purse. I retrieved it and saw that there was a text from Jax.
“Busy 2nite c u later.”
My heart dropped. It was the longest I’d ever gone without seeing him. I had no idea what I’d done or what had happened to make him ditch me two nights in a row. I wanted to call him and ask him what was up, but if he’d wanted to talk to me he would have called not texted. Even worse was that texting wasn’t our thing. Jax and I always spoke on the phone. It was a ritual between us, a way to connect because a text couldn’t replicate the sound of someone’s voice.
“K<3.” I texted back feeling hollow inside.
All the excitement I’d had about prom was gone. I just wanted to get home and away from everyone. I’d mope in my room eat Ben and Jerry’s triple fudge ice cream and try to catch up on the mound of extra homework that I was slowly picking away at. Contrary to my belief that my hospitalization would mean that I’d miss too much school to graduate, I’d been able to catch up. With the help of a tutor and the support of my teachers, I was almost there.
Tattoos: A Novel Page 22
