Reclaiming Lily

by Patti Lacy

  Kai nodded halfheartedly, not liking this new direction.

  “Like, last month, I might’ve called this fate. The stars. Karma.”

  Kai squirmed on the bench. Now it sounds like my old story.

  “Not anymore. I always wanted to believe in God, even when I . . . thought I hated Him.” Joy’s palms flattened against the ground. She leaned back. “Now I do believe. It’s like my heart opened to the possibility that He would work through things . . . if I’ll get out of the way. That’s why I have to know your plan to fight PKD—our plan.” Joy zeroed in on Kai with an intensity that shuddered Kai’s soul. This is not an easy one to dissuade once her mind is set. So I will leave while I am vulnerable to this idea of hers.

  Kai made a show of checking her watch. “I must return to my patients.” She darted her eyes about, as if concerned that nearby workers might overhear. “Now is not the time or the place for such a discussion.”

  “We’ve got to do it, Kai. Before we leave Boston.” Joy crossed her arms. “That’s tomorrow.”

  Despite being in the open air, Kai found it difficult to breathe. Joy must not partner in this thing. Not now. Perhaps not ever. She, who had planned to sacrifice for Joy, was burdensome as a lame ox. The less Joy saw of her, the better.

  “I have missed a great deal of work lately.” Kai stood and brushed off her lab coat. “This weekend, it would be best—”

  Joy jumped to her feet. Blades of grass fluttered. “Best for whom?” With a whoosh, Joy crashed into Kai. Laid her head on Kai’s shoulder. “Please, Kai,” she sobbed. “Don’t shut me out.”

  To now have Joy so near changed everything. She could no more ignore her flesh and blood than she could abandon a patient with a death rattle. She kissed Joy’s part line. “If it is permissible with your parents, I will meet you at the Common entrance at five thirty today. Remember where we started our Freedom Walk? You will have your say.”

  They parted. After completing her rounds, Kai hailed a taxi and tried to pull her emotions together. The bay glittered with hope, but Kai could not shake the feeling that she had lost control—of her present and her future. She who had made a life of attaining goal after goal felt as powerless as the sailboats in the harbor, curving and fluttering at the whim of the wind.

  The driver sped faster, faster, surely intent on dispensing with her and picking up a more profitable fare. Boats became white streaks, the water a blur of blue. Kai clung to the door handle, wishing she could dispense with this lose-lose dilemma. As a renal specialist, she had thrilled to uncover the mysteries of those amazing bean-shaped organs. She knew the ins and outs of their function. She knew the risk of infection, the odds of survival, in every documented kidney disease.

  Her mind, her training, could not allow precious Fourth Daughter to undergo a transplant. Yet in her heart, her soul, she knew she couldn’t stop her sister from pursuing her passion.

  Kai leaned back and let her thoughts wander. She was under the shade of a banyan, where she as a young girl had vowed to be a healer. As her memory unfolded, no one stepped forward to say “I forbid it.”

  The cab screeched. Kai was jerked forward. She rubbed her eyes, as if she’d just awoken from a deep sleep.

  “Can’t you hear me, ma’am? I ain’t got all day.”

  Neither do I, sir. Neither do I. With a tight smile, Kai topped off the fare with a generous tip and jumped out of the cab. Kai understood what to do to best handle her patients’ needs. But what about Joy’s needs? How should they be handled? At this moment, the answer eluded her. “God,” she prayed as she strolled past the rustling magnolias, “they say you perform miracles. I believe I have seen them.” She inhaled and begged the sweet magnolia scent to cleanse her troubled spirit. “Change Joy’s mind.” Heavy steps got her inside the atrium. “Or . . . change mine.”

  26

  A cab’s not the place for a meltdown, Gloria told herself. The driver swerved around tour buses and screeched to a halt in front of their hotel. Andrew paid him. Gloria and Joy headed to the elevator bank. Gloria jabbed the button. Neither is a hotel lobby. So cool it.

  “Are you gonna hold up for Dad?” It was classic Joy, an eyebrow peaked, her mouth quirked. She gets it.

  Let him climb the stairs! Gloria wanted to hiss . . . but didn’t. She smiled sweetly, said, “Certainly,” and prayed for guidance. This was fight number one in Parenting of Joy 102. She had to get it right.

  Andrew joined them. They rode in silence to their floor. Entered their room. Gloria sat in the love seat, near her Bible and journal. A good place. Andrew fiddled with his cell and plopped into the chair by the table. Joy flopped on her bed and tossed a pillow. “Spit it out, Mom. Something’s wrong.”

  She gets things Andrew’s clueless about. Gloria glanced at her Bible. God, help him “get it” without me “losing it.”

  “I barely slept last night for worrying about Kai.” Good. Go slow, girl. “I so appreciate all she’s done for us . . . and for you, Joy. When you shared how God’s changing your life . . .” Unable to explain further, Gloria grabbed her journal and riffled through the pages. “This is full of prayers for you, Joy.”

  Andrew had moved to sit by their daughter. Good. She’d sock it to both of them.

  Joy darted glances between her parents. “So . . . it’s all good?”

  The journal slapped shut. “There is one little thing.”

  Andrew rubbed his chin in his philosophical pose. “What, dear?”

  Gloria swallowed down her instinct to whine and imagined Kai dealing with this. “It hurt that y’all left me out of the chat about Joy’s future. Y’all had said you’d wait here for me and we’d all three talk to Kai. Later.”

  Father and daughter exchanged “Who, us?” looks. In the past, Gloria would’ve burst into tears or backtracked. Not today. She dug her nails into her palms and waited.

  “Like, it just came out so naturally . . .”

  “Yeah, babe.” Andrew avoided her eyes. “Kinda an impulse.” Was he really getting it . . . or was he just afraid she’d erupt?

  Gloria pushed aside her odd-mother-out feelings. This wasn’t about her. It was about communication, which they’d need in megadoses if Joy took the kidney donation path. “If we’re committing to this, we’ve gotta be on the same page. Like, communicate.”

  Joy played catch with her pillow. She’s nervous. Like I am. “I’m . . . I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.” Andrew put his arm around Joy. “We weren’t thinking.”

  “Hey, no problem.” Gloria felt her eyes widen. She sounded like Joy!

  “So you’re okay with it?”

  Empowered by the lovely mix of respect and love on her daughter’s face, Gloria shrugged. “Hey, like, it’s cool. We’ll see where God takes us.”

  Joy scrunched her nose. “Moth-er! You’re talking, like, so weird!”

  It’s safe. Secure. Kai felt in her pocket for the box she’d stowed in her locker during rounds. A symbol of all I hope for Joy, who’s . . . right across the street!

  Would she ever feel humdrum about Joy? She thrilled at the sight of her sister’s railroad cap, jeans jacket, pink shirt and tennis shoes. It was the same rush she used to feel when David entered the room. With effort, Kai pushed away thoughts of the heart doctor.

  Andrew, Gloria, and Joy stood waiting by the Common’s wrought iron gates. Kai tripped across the street, and Joy rushed forward to give her a hug. “Thanks for coming!”

  Kai willed away the urge to bury her face in Joy’s hair and cry in despair. Instead, she lifted her chin. “Are you ready to leave Boston?” she asked Joy’s parents.

  Gloria rested her head on Andrew’s shoulder. “We love it here!”

  Andrew nodded. “But it’s time to get home.” With arms draped about one another, the Powells resembled young marrieds on a weekend getaway. A pang of jealousy struck at their obvious contentment; Kai shoved it away.

  “We’ve got one more thing to do.” Gloria laced her fingers with Andrew
’s. “We hear you can’t come to Boston without seeing the bronze ducks. Taking your photo with them.”

  “It’s a must!” That’s what David once said, anyway. David. Her cell phone. Kai swallowed hard. Oh, the memories. “They’re—they’re in the Public Garden, not here. Just cross St. Charles. The swan boats are there as well.”

  Andrew pointed to the Common sign, several feet behind him. “How about we meet y’all back here in, say, an hour? I need photo proof of this trip for my deacons.”

  They all chuckled, like family, though Kai did not understand the joke.

  “If you want flowers,” Kai blurted, desperate to continue the community feeling, “there are tulips and redbuds.” A perfect backdrop for the all-American couple.

  “See y’all later.” With silly waves, the Powells tripped toward St. Charles. Kai felt her tension release as she smiled at Joy’s eye rolls.

  “They’re acting like teenagers,” Joy complained.

  “You are fortunate that they love one another.”

  Joy ducked her head. “I see that now. I see a lot of things.” On the strength of that admission, the sisters strolled into the Common. Beech and elms and maples trembled with new growth. Kai’s heart swelled to be showing off this city, her city, to Joy. Her sister. If only she could freeze this moment and suspend talk forever of the other thing. . . .

  In a spontaneous way, Joy linked her arm with Kai’s and lengthened her stride until the two matched each other’s gaits. Kai closed her eyes and thought of the God whom she had heard so much about lately. Thank you for this time with Joy. Somehow, some way, you are responsible. Thank you.

  Joy broke from Kai, headed toward a bench shaded by a majestic maple tree, and sat down. Sorry that their easy, natural rhythms had been broken, Kai did the same.

  Silence—and the looming presence of PKD—began to swallow nature’s beat. Kai’s chest tightened. Her hands fell into her lap. “You wanted to discuss something.”

  “Uh, yeah.” She, too, longs to reclaim our rhythm. “I’ve read up on PKD. That file you gave my parents, stuff at the hospital.”

  Kai couldn’t help but smile at the fire in Joy’s eyes. If this one’s drive and energy is harnessed for healing, the enemy diseases will tremble with fear.

  “It’s awful!” Joy shook her fists, as if PKD were walking by instead of a young mother strolling with her child. “When all they can do is dialysis or transplant . . .”

  Kai nodded. “That is what we are reduced to at present. Things will change. They must.”

  Joy pursed her lips in her stubborn pose. “Until that change, I’m doing the genetic matching. They have a transplant unit in Dallas.”

  Kai shook her head. “You have been—what do they say?—a busy mosquito.”

  A lovely tinkling sound came from Joy, so incongruous with her brash manner. “Busy bee, Kai. Slang was hard for me too.”

  Again their arms linked. They inhaled, exhaled, in unison. Rhythms gifted through genes? Kai believed it so. “We have much in common.” Kai kept her eyes on Joy. Kept her mind on their rhythms. “Much to share.”

  Joy popped upright. “Don’t you see? That’s why we’re in this PKD thing together. If I’m a match, it’s a no-brainer.” Her eyes were filled with such longing, Kai turned her gaze to the Common expanse, alive after its brush with winter. Alive . . . like young Joy.

  Kai felt her lips tighten. That is the way out. TU administrators balked at twenty-something donors, much less eighteen-year-olds. A memo from her as a renal specialist decrying Joy’s involvement would end this fiasco. Joy would never know. “You are much too young to even be considered.”

  “One year and I won’t be.”

  Kai stared at Fourth Sister. She comprehends all. Desperate to add levity, she quipped, “I was right the first time. You are a busy mosquito.”

  Joy rustled about. “The way I figure it, we’ve got time. That report puts you at thirty, forty percent function. God willing, we’ve got time.”

  Kai studied her hands. It was not right to lie to her sister.

  “You’re not going to support me in this, are you?” Joy, a pink-and-denim blur, jumped to her feet. “Are you?”

  Kai looked at Joy but no longer saw beloved Chang features. Instead, she saw the village chief who tried, because of an age-old family feud, to bar her from the university, the officials who rejected her visa application—all those who had said, “You can’t.”

  There had been an equal number who had said, “You can.” It pained her to be seen as a negative person . . . by the one she loved most in the world.

  “You can’t play God, you know.” Joy’s voice became brittle. She scuffed her toe against dirt.

  Twinges worked through Kai. If Joy resorts to her rebellious ways, I will be to blame. This situation called for careful reasoning. “How would I be playing God, to do what is prudent? To do what is best for you?”

  Joy took Kai’s hand and warmed it between her palms. “God’s behind this, don’t you see? Like, what are the odds you’d find me? That we’d survive a tornado without, like, even a broken fingernail? Can you just try, Kai? Try to trust Him on this?” Her desperation rent Kai’s heart. “I mean, how many times does He have to tell you?” Joy’s grip tightened and surged a tidal wave of emotion . . . and a question.

  “When did this revelation come to you?” Kai kept her tone light. “On Beacon Hill, did you not question God?”

  Joy’s eyes blazed with a strange light. “Yeah. Things have changed. When Mom left this morning, Dad and I talked.” Sweat slicked their hands, yet Joy held tight. “I recommitted my life to God, who never gave up on me, even when I was in that . . . dark place. It just, like . . . all clicked.”

  Joy released her hold on Kai. Snapped her fingers. “As I’ve learned about myself, I’ve kinda learned who He is. Though there’s a bunch more to figure out.” Joy possessed the rosy cheeks and electric energy of the children racing by, surely bound for the frog pond. “He’s a God of miracles. Of love. A God who has conquered death.”

  “Conquered death.” Kai battled a negative tone. “That is a God I want to meet.”

  “Then I’ll introduce you.”

  The wind rustled through the leaves as Joy began to talk. Words about God coming to earth as a peasant’s son shuddered Kai’s soul. Her skin prickled, as though another presence, greater than nature, greater than humanity, had joined them. Though she could not see it, could not touch it, the presence was there . . .

  “You can know Him, too, if you admit that He came for you. Died for you.”

  “This morning, did you admit such a thing?”

  Tears filled Joy’s eyes, which had lost their savvy look and bore the wide-eyed hope of young patients, trusting that the shot’s sting would soon be gone. “Yes. I always believed it, like, at some level. Now I’m gonna live it.”

  They sat on the bench, full of the moment of being sisters enraptured with one another . . . and something, someone else. God?

  Birds chirped. Lovers strolled. The strange sensation of another presence faded.

  Kai checked her watch, felt her eyes bulge to see that it was already six o’clock. Time itself had bowed to the strange words, the strange presence. “It is time to meet your parents, Joy. You have given me much to think about.”

  “Kai.” Again Joy gripped her hand. “Open your heart to God and His ways. Open your heart to me. Please, Kai, please!”

  “You are asking me to open my heart to things I do not understand.” Kai again let her gaze fall on the Common as she thought of David, Cheryl, the Powells. An odd image—Chinese Evangelical Church flyers she’d seen tacked on utility poles—fluttered into her mind.

  Kai faced Joy, who continued to grip her as if she were a lifeline. How strange that the sister for whom she had spanned seas and secrets had become her lifeline! That is the problem: I cannot get past the fact that only by endangering Joy can I allow Joy to do would she feels called to do!

  Joy gave her a qu
izzical, penetrating look. “I know what you’re going through, Kai. No matter what my parents said, I would not listen. This morning, it was, like, wow! God brought you to help me. Now it may be the other way around: Maybe I can help you. It blows my mind.” Joy brushed off her jeans and anchored her cap on her head. “Please. At least think about it.”

  “It is time for us to go,” Kai said, but she did not move a muscle. An unseen force had cemented her to the bench.

  “Please, Kai.” A single tear slipped down Joy’s cheek.

  Something broke in Kai, as it had when she had wiped away Joy’s first tear at the jail. She would think about it. She owed Joy that much. After she wiped away Joy’s tear, she said, “I will ponder the things you have said. For you, Joy. After all, you are a Chang. The Chang I sought. The Chang I have found.”

  “Oh, Kai.” Joy fell into Kai’s embrace. “I wish . . . it had been me instead of you.” Though Kai’s jacket muffled the words, their import squeezed her heart. Joy means it. Joy truly has a gift, a gift that has stolen my words. A gift I will treasure until . . . She shoved away images of disease, of death, and instead basked in the sunlight, in Fourth Daughter’s presence. No matter what awaits me, it is enough. If you are here, thank you, God.

  Finally Joy lifted her tear-stained face and murmured, “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling, being a doctor and all.”

  Kai nodded. “It is strange, sitting on the examining table.”

  “Could I, like, be more than your sister on this?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like maybe a medical assistant?”

  “You have the gift,” Kai whispered. “You have a healing hand. Perhaps two.” To add levity, she tried to laugh. Failed.

  Joy bowed her head. “Yeah, I know. God told me that too.”