Reclaiming Lily

by Patti Lacy

“No.” Joy brushed her paper. “I know you’ll do that. I’m talking about Kai. Treating her like my sister. Like she’s part of our . . . family.” Joy knotted her hands. “It’s like when I saw her . . . everything changed. I . . . like, can’t explain it, but I feel connected.”

  Nicole again checked her watch. “Well, yeah, sure. I mean, I can understand that.” She pocketed her pen and pushed back her chair. Her leg kicks became frenzied.

  Andrew found Gloria’s hand and squeezed it twice. Their code for Let’s do it.

  “Yes, Joy. We’ll do our part. We’ll make Kai feel welcome.”

  “You too, Mommy?” came out breathy. Desperate. “Do you promise?”

  Gloria’s head swam with contradictory images. Kai, helping Joy find herself. Joy finding Kai . . . and them losing her. She dug her nails into her palm. God, is this of you or not? If it is, why am I vacillating like an idiot?

  Nicole kicked.

  Andrew cleared his throat.

  Joy began to mutter in her old rebellious way.

  Gloria wiped sweaty palms on her skirt. There’s no choice. If I don’t agree, I’ll lose her. “Yes, Joy.” She stretched her lips into a smile. “You stick to your part of the bargain, I’ll stick to mine.”

  “Do you really mean it?”

  The pain in her daughter’s voice stripped Gloria of doubts. Pretense. Her fingers writhed, so desperate was she to do this right. To tell the truth, yet help her daughter. “This is all new to me. I won’t deny it’s hard.”

  Joy’s mouth gaped. Air whistled between her lips.

  Is she that shocked to see me for who I am? Unsure. Imperfect. Real? Talk about time for a change. Gloria fisted her hands and took a breath. “I’ve loved you since the first time I set eyes on you, Joy. I will always love you. I want what’s best for you, as does your daddy.” Emboldened by the calm in her spirit, Gloria smiled at her daughter. “I . . . I think Kai can help us. I really do.”

  Joy’s nostrils flared, her shoulders shook, in the way that always pulled at Gloria’s heart.

  “I was wrong to doubt Kai’s motives,” Gloria added. “Forgive me.”

  Joy’s eyes filled with tears. Then she picked up the pen, scribbled with abandon, handed the paper to Nicole, and wiped her eyes.

  “Well, all right.” Nicole stuck the form into a file folder. Hand-shaking preceded their good-byes, as if a sacrificial pledge had been signed. And it had. The enormity of their commitment, of Joy’s commitment, lodged in Gloria’s chest. We’ll all be giving one hundred and ten percent. Without you, God, it won’t happen.

  They left Nicole’s office. When they neared the lobby door, Joy held back. “Mommy?” She used her little-girl voice. “Can I talk to you?”

  As if afraid, Andrew scuttled away.

  Her eyes downcast, Joy minced forward. “I . . . I haven’t done anything.”

  Gloria’s breath spurted. Praise God. She clapped her hand over her heart. Then why did you steal come-on clothes? Who is the creep? Questions tightened her chest.

  “Like nada,” Joy mumbled. “Zip.”

  The sight of Joy’s bent head and contrite tone warded off questions. Joy just gave up her independence to share what she hasn’t given up.

  “Oh, Joy.” Gloria cupped her daughter’s face in her hands and looked into those lovely eyes. “Thanks for telling me.” A smoky smell prompted a question, but she squashed it, then stomped her foot to celebrate her small victory. They’d discuss tobacco . . . later.

  Though neither of them spoke, their shoulders grazed as they entered the lobby. Those million miles between them had just been reduced—dramatically.

  Andrew rushed forward and draped an arm around Joy, the other around Gloria. “Everything okay?”

  Gloria nodded and gave Andrew a tell-you-later hand squeeze.

  “Yeah. Like, yeah!” As if freed from her burden, Joy broke from them and skipped toward Kai, who embraced her as if they were lifelong friends, not day-old sisters. Joy waved her hands, Kai nodded, easily interpreting, accepting each move.

  Gloria’s lips tightened. They are naturals. Unlike Joy and me.

  “I’ve been thinking about how to do this.” Andrew’s breath tickled Gloria’s ear and soothed her conflicted feelings. What would she do without Andrew to think like a Christian when she wasn’t? Act like a Christian when she didn’t?

  “Kai needs to tell Joy about PKD.”

  Gloria battled prickles of fear. “Don’t you think it’ll overwhelm her if she hears about that and the new baby?”

  “Joy needs the truth. Kai’s obviously got her ear right now, so she’s the one to tell her.” Andrew scuffed the floor with his loafer. “If Joy has this PKD, a station adjustment’s only the tip of the iceberg. She’ll need a good doctor. A good sister. Plenty of support. Which God seems to have packaged in Kai.”

  Transplant. Dialysis. Snatches from that dreadful report Kai had shown them—was it only this morning?—ran through her mind. Gloria seized her husband’s arm. “Andrew, I’m scared.”

  Andrew brushed hair wisps from her face. “We’ve got to give this to God.”

  How many times had she heard that? Ignored that? She nodded mutely. It was time to listen to her husband. Her preacher. Her lover. It was time to listen to her God.

  As Gloria and Andrew made their way to the sisters, Joy threw back her head and erupted in laughter.

  A thrill cascaded through Gloria. Twenty-four karat, every syllable of bubbling glee. I haven’t heard that laugh in . . . too long.

  A sunbeam poured in the lobby window and spotlighted the sisters. Gloria shut her eyes, begging holy warmth, holy peace, to melt her fear. She’d never believed in coincidences. Kai had been led here by God, who had perfect timing.

  “Hey.” Andrew lightly cuffed her shoulder. “Back to the plan, huh? Let’s take Kai to her hotel. She probably wants to clean up.” He glanced at the chattering sisters. “We’ll go home, do the same, and then meet her downtown. Do steak. Mexican, if she wants it.”

  “Joy’s stomach . . .”

  Andrew’s face fell. “Oh, yeah. Then steak it’ll be. We’ll celebrate, Texas-style!”

  Gloria studied his face. “Are you sure we should tell . . . both of them?”

  Andrew’s eyes narrowed. “No, I’m not sure, but we just agreed—just promised—to include Kai.” He let go of Gloria. “I’ll see if that plan works for Kai.”

  Gloria felt the room whirl, as if the tornado had encored. How many years of her life had been spent in waiting? Worrying? For Daddy to come back home. For a godly man. For Joy. For Joy to fit in. She hadn’t realized until now, but she’d never accepted the present time as a gift. She had never really lived.

  As Andrew talked, Kai nodded. Joy nodded.

  Gloria joined the nodding. With God’s help, she’d fling off the smothering shroud of waiting, worrying, and live for today. Face the sorrows, the joys, the good, the bad—not only because it was right, but because she was sick to death of living the other way.

  14

  Four hours ago, a killer spun through here. Bone-tired, Kai leaned against the detention center’s brick wall and watched cars zip down the freeway. Now it’s business as usual. “Miracle.” Kai savored the taste of the strange word. Gloria had allied with her, another miracle. Oh, that more miracles were in store for Joy.

  Having declined a ride in the rolling trash bin, Kai waited for a taxi. She pulled out her cell phone to again try David. Strange, him not calling back on his day off. . . .

  She started to push 2 on the Speed Dial that David had set up for her, wishing that his arm rested about her shoulder in his intimate yet proper way. As the sun beamed warmth on her face, Kai closed her eyes and let memories carry her to Boston. . . .

  On a crisp autumn day, they’d strolled the Public Garden, a favorite—and rare—date stolen from impossible practice hours and nights on call. On a cobbled path, they’d met a little girl. Tears sparkled her wide brown eyes. A chubby fist clutched peanuts.
>
  “What’s the matter?” Kai asked.

  “The ducks fly away when I try to feed dem.” She stamped a sandaled foot. “Dey won’t even talk to me!”

  After a nod from a woman who stood protectively near, Kai knelt by the girl. “Perhaps they are busy. For that, they should be scolded. How could they not take time for a nice child like you?”

  Earnest eyes gripped Kai. “Could I put them in time out?”

  A giggle escaped. Oh, this one, full of spirit! So like Third Daughter. Kai clucked her tongue. “Well, now, that is an idea. But I have a better one.”

  The girl glanced at the woman, who nodded. A peanut fell to the ground. “Den what?”

  “Give your time to ducks that won’t leave.” Kai’s heart swelled to remember her first view of the waddling bronze ducks of Boston, so carefree, yet so sure, so safe. It was at that moment that she had fallen in love with America, where imagination so often chased, and caught up with, real life.

  “Where are those ducks that won’t leave?” the little girl demanded.

  “I’ll show you.”

  The woman shadowed the girl. Protecting? Waiting? Hoping? Kai did not know.

  Time sighed sweetly, like the leaves that fell about them. Kai and David and the little girl fed peanuts to Mrs. Mallard and her eight ducklings. Content as house pets, the ducklings seemed to nose the girl’s feet as she giggled with glee. The girl’s mother stepped close. “I don’t know your name, but thank you.” She gathered a shawl about bony shoulders. “Her father just died. We’ve had a rough time getting her to sleep, getting her to do anything. She thinks everything will fly away and leave her.” The woman shivered. “Just like those birds.”

  Kai wrote the name of a pediatric counselor on the back of her business card and reassured the woman that such behavior was normal.

  When the two left, David pulled Kai near Mrs. Mallard. “Close your eyes.”

  Kai complied and tried to smile. These Americans see unexpected surprises as good things. I will do my best to adjust to their way of thinking.

  “Hold out your hand.”

  Something smooth—plastic?—brushed against her palm. She opened her eyes. A cell phone lay in her hand. What Cheryl had insisted she get. What she had avoided. Was it not enough to have an answering service, a receptionist, a roommate efficient at message-taking? “It’s . . .”

  “I know, I know.” David tweaked her cheeks. “You’re trying to think of something nice to say.” He grabbed the phone and punched 2 on her new gift.

  Dreamy music—a nocturne?—muted the sound of their breathing. Kai’s skin tingled. She touched David’s arm. “What . . . where . . . ?”

  Laughing, David pulled that music—and another cell phone—from his pocket. He held two phones. Hers. His. Kai’s hands flew to her face. He had somehow programmed this thing, with the pressing of one button, to call her!

  “Hello.” He handed her one of the phones.

  She tried to press a digital readout.

  He laughed, then flipped open a cover. She held the phone to her ear, heard David’s gentle breathing, and locked eyes with him.

  “Hey, Kai. It’s David.”

  She could not speak. Her voice . . . her heart . . . was held captive by every tender syllable that silly gadget projected. Perhaps she did need a cell phone, after all. Just like she needed David. She glanced into eyes that echoed the love in his voice. Dared she hope that the doctor devoting his life to the care of cardiac patients would give his heart to her?

  “I am just one ring away.” David still had not blinked. Neither did Kai, so intent was she to preserve the moment. “If I am in surgery, on call, leave a message.” His voice did not waver, nor did that gaze. “As soon as humanly possible, I will get back to you.”

  The air horn of an 18-wheeler on the Texas freeway obliterated her Boston memories. Blinking, Kai flagged down the cab pulling into the center’s circular drive.

  Dear David, you have kept the promise witnessed by Boston’s elms and maples . . . until now. I have left you three messages over the span of three hours. Why, at a time when I crave the tone that lowers my blood pressure, when I need advice from one who has pulled lives from the other side, do you not answer?

  After she hopped into the cab and gave the driver her address, she again jabbed 2 on the Speed Dial. “Please leave a message,” informed a nasally voiced woman.

  The phone snapped shut, as did her hopes for time with David.

  Kai watched truckers streak by as the skyline of Fort Worth neared. She had left David not one but three messages. There was nothing more to say that could be communicated over phone lines.

  Another cabbie—this one wearing a cowboy hat.

  “Could you take me to the Longhorn Palace?”

  The man tipped his hat. His big-as-Texas smile showed missing teeth. “Hang on, ma’am!” he bellowed. “I’ll spur this baby on down the line. Getcha there in no time!”

  While Kai gripped the armrest, the man regaled her with talk of looking for eight, apparently a score in the rodeo game, and “bucking Big Red.” Kai comprehended enough to know that David would relish his stories. If only he were here. . . .

  The cab pulled into a street crowded with what the cabbie called honky-tonks and slop-slingers. More Texas talk David would enjoy.

  Glad to shut the door on unrequited hopes and crazy driving, Kai paid the cabbie and wobbled from the taxi. Christmas lights marked the perimeter of a building that resembled saloons on the sets of David’s Westerns. A life-sized Plexiglas longhorn pawed and snorted from its corral by the entrance. Kai half-expected John Wayne himself, wearing a six-gun and cowboy hat, to shove through swinging doors. Kai smiled. Rodeo Cabbie, with his wild drive, had set the tone for dinner!

  “Howdy, ma’am. Welcome to Cowtown and the Longhorn Palace.”

  Boots clomped across a planked floor as a greeter met Kai and led her inside. Laughter rose from a bar that spanned the long wall of the restaurant. A buffalo, antelope, and yet another longhorn gave her glassy-eyed stares. Kai’s abdomen tightened. How much face would she lose with the Powells if she ordered vegetarian?

  They wove through a maze of tables covered with checkered cloths and entered another room. Another. Remembering why she had come, Kai tightened her hold on her handbag. Was a room reverberating with yippees and yee-haws a place to discuss deadly disease?

  “Kai! Over here!” Joy jumped up and then plopped back into her chair, as if she’d embarrassed herself with her enthusiasm. Still, a coquettish wave of her hand reflected the easy way they had talked at the jail, the way they had anticipated each other’s gait, falling in step like . . . Kai’s throat tightened. The ways of First Daughter and me. Seeing Joy made Kai hungry for the presence of Ling, Mei, and Father, who wrote seldom and called never, as they had no phone. Oh, that we could reunite! Sooner and not later. . . .

  “Bye-bye! Enjoy y’all’s steaks!” Curls cascaded when the hostess whirled and flounced out of sight.

  Kai recalled the wall-mounted animals. I will do my best. But do not count on it, Miss Texas.

  Joy waved Kai into the chair next to hers. Across from Kai sat Andrew; across from Joy, Gloria. A cowgirl in a miniskirt and pointed-toe boots sashayed to their table and distributed menus and Mason jars filled with water.

  “We’ll need a bit of time.” Andrew, smooth as ever, chatted with the waitress. “How ’bout ah give you a holler when we’re ready?”

  “Yee-haw!” Andrew and the waitress high-fived. Joy rolled her eyes. Kai suppressed the same response and then decided to mimic Joy. America’s let-it-all-hang-out philosophy just might foster community and humor. Something this family needs.

  “Did you get a chance to kick back in your room?” Andrew stretched casually and sipped his water as if this were a social function rather than a discussion of Joy’s future. Not so different from the teahouse approach in China. A game I can play.

  “No. I called the office. They’ve survived just fine witho
ut me.”

  Andrew chuckled, then asked, “Is it a big practice?”

  One of the biggest, the best, in the country, if not the world. “Perhaps small by Texas standards.” Kai also sipped water. “We are growing, slowly but surely.”

  “How cool is it to hold people’s lives in your hands, like, every day?” Kai noticed that Joy had Nicole’s habit of bouncing her leg.

  Kai massaged fingers chilled by the frigid glass. “It is both a sorrow and a joy.”

  Gloria had begun to dig into her palms, surely fearing another sit-through of the Healing Right Hand’s history. Do not worry, mother of Joy. If—no, when—Joy hears about my gift, it will be in a more dignified place than the Longhorn Palace.

  Kai brushed at her sleeve. “That is a story for another time.”

  Andrew covered Gloria’s hand with his. Kai could not help but notice how their fingers intertwined perfectly, how, with their freckles and pale skin, it was hard to distinguish between the two. So different in this way from her and David. As his parents loved to point out.

  “A story you must hear, Joy,” Andrew said.

  “Yes.” Gloria gave a polite smile. “Kai told us many, um, interesting things.”

  Joy’s swinging foot clipped Kai in the calf. “Sorry. I’d love to hear them. Like, what’s wrong with now?”

  Andrew picked up his menu and ran his finger along its laminated edge. “There’s another thing we want to talk about.”

  Joy crossed her arms, as if to set up a barricade. Teenaged attitude, striking again?

  Andrew again took Gloria’s hand. “When we got home, we told Joy about the doctor’s visit.”

  Kai felt her face fall. They already contacted Joy’s physician about PKD?

  “Like, yeah, Kai, it’s the best—” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, Daddy.”

  Andrew swiped his forehead. “No, no, Joy. It’s . . . Hey, you tell her.”

  Joy’s face glowed. “Mom had a pregnancy test! She’s gonna have a baby! I’m gonna have a brother or a sister!”

  Kai’s skin tingled. A new life. What glory—for Gloria! Then puzzle pieces—Gloria’s paleness, haywire emotions, and nausea—interlocked. “How wonderful!” Kai thrust her arm across scattered menus for congratulatory handshakes. “When are you due?”