Kathleen's Story

by Lurlene McDaniel

  The city had three clubs for the teen crowd, but a person had to be seventeen or older to get in, so Kathleen had never been inside one. “I’m not seventeen,” she said.

  “No problem. I’ll get you an ID.”

  She felt immature. What should she say to that? The truth? That she’d be scared stupid to use a fake ID? She was rescued by a waiter who showed up to take their order. She scanned the menu quickly, realizing that although she’d looked it over once, she couldn’t remember a single item offered. She ordered the dish at the top of the menu, hoping she’d like it.

  Carson ordered and the waiter left. “Not everyone likes calamari,” Carson said.

  “Calamari?”

  “Squid.”

  Kathleen straightened. Is that what she’d ordered? “Um…well, I thought I’d give it a try.”

  “If you don’t like it, just order something else.” His smile, etched in candlelight, sent a shiver through her.

  “It’ll be fine,” she mumbled, wondering if he was regretting asking her out. She didn’t wonder long.

  “Hello, Carson. I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” The girl’s voice caused Kathleen’s insides to turn cold. She glanced over her shoulder to see that Stephanie Marlow had come up behind her chair.

  nine

  STEPHANIE STEPPED AROUND to the side of the table and Kathleen all but wilted as she was once again struck by the girl’s beauty. Stephanie was dressed in something long and shimmery that clung to every curve of her lean, perfect body. Her black hair was pulled back in a sophisticated bun that nestled at the nape of her neck; her flawless face and smooth, silky skin glowed in the candlelight.

  “Hey, Steffie.” Carson rocked back in his chair. Kathleen tried to read his expression, wondering if he was pleased to see Stephanie, but his eyes held no clue for her. He said, “I thought you were out of town.”

  “Plans change.” Stephanie was pointedly ignoring Kathleen.

  “You remember Kathleen,” Carson said.

  Steffie’s gaze cut to Kathleen, who hoped she could paste a pleasant expression on her face. “The little volunteer from the hospital? Yes, I remember her.”

  Kathleen felt as if she’d been slapped. The little volunteer? She opened her mouth to say something that might take Stephanie down a notch, but Stephanie had turned her attention back to Carson. “I was supposed to do a shoot in the Keys this week, but it was postponed because of the hurricane floundering around in the Caribbean. There’s rain headed for Key West.”

  “Too bad,” Carson said.

  Kathleen was left to wonder what he thought was “too bad.”

  “Are you here with your parents?” he asked.

  “Don’t be silly. Dad’s out of town on business and Mom’s in South America.” The tone of her voice sounded cold. “No, I’m just here with me.”

  Kathleen wondered if Stephanie always dressed so elegantly for dinner alone. Maybe she’d hoped to run into Carson.

  “How about tennis tomorrow?” Stephanie asked.

  “Do I look busy to you, Stef?” Carson nodded toward Kathleen.

  Undaunted, Stephanie said, “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you play, Kathleen? I can find someone else and we can play doubles.”

  “I’m busy tomorrow,” Kathleen said, not about to admit that she didn’t play tennis.

  “Maybe later in the week, then.” Stephanie’s cool gaze held Kathleen’s, making her feel as insignificant as dust particles.

  “And then I work as a volunteer.” Kathleen emphasized the word work, hoping to make tennis seem frivolous by comparison.

  The waiter appeared with their meals and set each on the table. Kathleen stared at the donut-shaped rings that must surely be her calamari and wanted to gag. Wouldn’t that make Stephanie’s day!

  “I think you got mine,” Carson said, and swapped his plate of buffalo wings for her fried squid. He looked up at Stephanie. “Can we talk about tennis some other time? We’d like to eat.”

  “Of course,” Stephanie said with a shrug. “I’ll call you. Ciao.”

  She walked away, the heels of her strappy sandals clicking on the patio brick. Heads turned as she wove through the maze of tables. Kathleen sighed. “I don’t think she likes me.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Steffie doesn’t like anybody.”

  “She likes you,” Kathleen said quietly.

  Carson’s gaze zeroed in on Kathleen’s face. “She’s nice to me because we have a history.”

  Every cell in Kathleen’s brain was screaming, “What kind of history?” but she didn’t ask. Instead she said, “It was nice of you to change our plates, but I can take back my fried squid.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m broadening my horizons.”

  He exchanged their plates. She stabbed one of the small rings and popped it into her mouth. It was firm and chewy but left a much better taste in her mouth than the conversation with Stephanie Marlow.

  When they’d finished dinner, Carson drove Kathleen home. Disappointed because the date had ended so early, she exited the car as soon as he turned off the engine. What had she expected? He had taken her to dinner and now the date was over. End of story. “Wait up,” he said, falling into step beside her. “I’ll walk you to your door.”

  As they approached her front porch, she saw that her mother had “thoughtfully” left the light on for her. It seemed as bright as the noonday sun.

  Carson stopped her just short of the porch and the shining light. Her heartbeat quickened. Was he going to kiss her? She wanted him to, but she was scared. She’d seen so many TV shows where the teens were coy and confident and knew just what to say and just how to kiss and be kissed. On TV, in their scripted worlds, kissing looked so smooth and easy. But she had precious little experience with kissing. It had happened to her maybe three times, twice during party games and once when a boy did it on a dare from another. Now, looking up at Carson’s face in the moonlight, she knew he was no amateur.

  “You’re shivering,” he said.

  “Just a little,” she lied. Nerves, she thought.

  He repositioned the sweater on her shoulders, smoothed a tendril of her hair. “I would like to kiss you,” he said. “But I’m not going to.”

  Shocked, she took a step away and said the first thing that popped into her mind. “Do you think I’ll taste like calamari?”

  He laughed and she felt so stupid that all she wanted to do was turn and run.

  He pulled her close, rested his forehead against hers. “It’s about anticipation,” he said. “That’s part of the dance.”

  “What dance?”

  “The getting-to-know-you dance. You see, most of the time, people move too fast. And when you move too fast, you miss a lot.”

  His eyes were shrouded in shadow, and his breath felt warm on her cheek. Her knees went weak. “Slow’s good.”

  He slid her sweater off one shoulder, bent and pressed his mouth to her bare skin. He ran his tongue along the ridge of her collarbone to the base of her throat.

  Her insides turned to liquid and she closed her eyes, reveling in feelings of pure seduction.

  “Delicious,” he whispered. “I knew you would be.” He brushed her earlobe with his mouth, then stepped away. “Until next time.”

  Her eyes opened and she fought to control her breathing, her desire to throw her arms around him. She watched him walk to his car and drive off. She watched long after he was gone and the sounds of the night had settled around her. She stood just beyond the brightness of the porch light, her body trembling, abandoned in the moonlight, with only the faintest whisper of an evening breeze moving over her hair and body like a lover’s hands.

  “And he didn’t kiss you, kiss you? What’s up with that?” Holly sat on the floor of Kathleen’s bedroom, disappointment dripping from her questions.

  “It’s called patience,” Raina fired at Holly. “Will you get some of it, please?”

  Kathleen was embarrassed. It was difficult to implement th
e new policy of telling her two best friends everything. At least she hadn’t had to spill the details to her mother. Although Mary Ellen had looked at her expectantly when she’d come in the night before, and again at breakfast, Kathleen hadn’t shared anything beyond “I had a good time.”

  Raina, sitting next to Holly on the floor, turned her attention back to Kathleen, lounging on the bed. “I’m glad he wasn’t all over you—it shows respect. As for that Steffie, I’d have ‘accidentally’ knocked my water glass down the front of her.”

  “She probably would have melted,” Holly said, making the others laugh. When they were younger, they’d watched The Wizard of Oz so many times together that they could quote every line.

  “So now what?” Kathleen asked.

  “You wait,” Raina said. “Let him chase you.”

  “What if he doesn’t?”

  “He has so far. I doubt he’ll stop this soon into the dance,” Raina said.

  Doubt nibbled at Kathleen. What could she offer him? When compared to Stephanie, who led a glamorous life as a model, she was pretty boring. Maybe Carson was just toying with her. If so, she swore she wasn’t going to let him know how he affected her. How he left her weak-kneed and starry-eyed, like a silly twit. Nohow. No way.

  “I wish someone would chase me,” Holly grumbled.

  Kathleen and Raina exchanged glances. With perfect timing, they pounced on Holly, who screeched and fell backward. Then they tickled her mercilessly, rolling around on the floor and squealing like small children.

  “Must you go?” Raina was sitting on a swing in a vacant schoolyard and Hunter was standing in front of her, his hands wrapped around hers on the swing’s chains. He had just gotten off work from the fast-food restaurant across the street and she’d driven there to see him before he went home. And he had just told her that he was going off on a ten-day mission project with the youth group of his church beginning the July 4th weekend.

  “It’s for a good cause, Raina. Our youth group is going to help build a youth center out in Arizona on a reservation. My minister called me personally and asked me to come. The time will pass like that.” He snapped his fingers. “You’ll hardly know I’m gone.”

  “Not true,” she said, still feeling the keen edge of disappointment. She was missing him already.

  “The kids have been raising money all year for this trip.” His church had a large youth group.

  “But why do you have to go?”

  “They need the extra hands. Some of the kids who were signed up to go changed their minds. Plus Pastor Eckloes thinks I’m a good influence on the younger kids. Go figure.” When she didn’t smile, he lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “You could come along.”

  “I’m already doing a volunteer job, remember? And what about your job? Won’t you lose it if you take off for so long?”

  “I’ve already asked the manager. He said it was okay, that he’d cover my shift. The job will be waiting when I get back.”

  “Are you still doing the camp counselor thing in August too?”

  “It’s my first time being a counselor and I promised. Plus I like the camp.”

  “Another week you’ll be gone,” she grumbled. “I thought we’d have almost the whole summer together. These trips spoil everything.”

  He slipped his arms around her and she laid her cheek against his shirt. “Think positive. Think of all the muscles I’ll build swinging a hammer every day.”

  “I like you the way you are.”

  “All soft and flabby?”

  Of course he was anything but soft and flabby. She could feel the hardness of his body through his clothing. She tightened her arms around his waist. But she knew his mind was made up and there was no use arguing about it. He was going. The aroma of deep-fried foods clung to the fabric of his shirt. “You smell like French fries,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.

  He kissed the top of her head. “And you smell like summer flowers. Have I told you how much I love summer flowers?”

  Raina went all soft inside. She pushed herself away and looked up at him. “How am I going to stay mad at you when you say things like that to me?”

  “I don’t want you to be mad at me. I want you to be happy.”

  “I know I’m being selfish. You like helping at your church the same way I like helping at the hospital. I’m sorry I was crabby.”

  “It’s okay. And don’t think for a minute that I won’t miss you like crazy, because I will. I’ll have a laptop with me and we can e-mail. Maybe I’ll buy a few postcards and write you.”

  Raina gave him a reassuring smile and together they walked to the parking lot to go their separate ways in separate cars. In her heart, however, she felt resentful toward the minister who had asked to take him away.

  Two days later, driving home from the hospital and after dropping Kathleen off, Raina shared her frustration with Holly. She finished her gripe with “I was already hating him going off to summer camp. I wish he wouldn’t go on the missions trip. I mean, why? The youth group is huge. There are plenty of others who can put nails into boards.”

  “It’s not just about nailing boards,” Holly said. “It’s the whole being-together-as-a-church-family thing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we don’t just do this kind of stuff to help others—which is important, of course. We do it to serve God.”

  God was an abstract concept to Raina, religion an invention of men to find answers for the unexplainable. “Can’t God serve himself? I mean if he’s God and all…why does he even need people?”

  Holly looked askance at her. “People are his hands here on earth.”

  Raina didn’t roll her eyes, but she felt like doing so. “Sounds more like people are his puppets. I just don’t get it.” Holly’s light brown eyes scanned Raina’s profile, and Raina felt her friend’s gaze as she drove. “What!” she said, irritated. “Do you have something to say?”

  “It’s hard to explain because it’s all mixed in with faith. Faith, not slavery, motivates people to serve God. Faith is what makes Hunter tick. It’s what drives him and makes him who he is.”

  To Raina, the implication was clear—because she had no faith, she could not possibly understand Hunter. That made her angry. She loved Hunter Harrison, and he loved her. In many ways, she was closer to Hunter than to any other person on earth! How could a silly thing like his church get between them? She dropped the topic because she and Holly wouldn’t come to any agreement about their different opinions that day. Hunter was who he was; Raina was who she was. They had differences, but their love would bind them together forever. Of that, she was certain.

  ten

  “HOLLY, MAY I talk to you in my office?” Mrs. Graham was Holly’s supervisor on the pediatric floor. Her request caught Holly completely off guard. She’d just signed on to the floor and was heading into the playroom for morning art therapy when Mrs. Graham stopped her.

  “Now, or later?” Holly racked her brain to figure out what she might have done to earn a visit to the supervisor’s office.

  “Right now,” Mrs. Graham said.

  With a pounding heart, Holly followed Mrs. Graham into her tiny cubicle, where she shut the door and gestured to a chair. Mrs. Graham went behind a desk piled with papers and file folders. Seeing the messy desk helped Holly breathe easier. Mrs. Graham probably wanted her to file and straighten her work space.

  “You like working with the little kids, don’t you?”

  “Yes. A lot.” No filing today, Holly thought. Mrs. Graham obviously had something else on her mind.

  “I see that you’ve signed up to help with the July Fourth ice cream social.” The party was only two days away.

  “Yes. So have my two best friends.”

  Mrs. Graham steepled her fingers together. “Since I can’t be there, I’ve been thinking of asking you to take on a special project at the party for me. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you were the right person for the job.”


  “Whatever you want, I’ll be glad to do.”

  “You have a choice about this project, Holly. You don’t have to do it just because I ask. It goes beyond, shall we say, your regular duties.”

  Intrigued, Holly asked, “Um—what is it? Mop floors? Churn ice cream?”

  Mrs. Graham smiled. “No, dear. It’s a people project.”

  By now, curiosity was oozing out of Holly’s pores. “Okay.”

  “I would like your help with a very special child.”

  “Special” usually meant difficult. Holly riffled mentally through the list of kids on the floor, and while some were cranky in their various stages of recovery, none of them seemed difficult to her. “Who?”

  “His name is Ben Keller. He’s just five years old. And he’s in the cancer wing.”

  Holly sat up even straighter. “But I thought—”

  “I know. We don’t normally allow first-time volunteers to help in that area, but I’ve spoken to Connie and told her I thought you could deal with it. She also said you’d told her that you were planning to continue on as a Pink Angel after school started.”

  “I am.” Holly nodded vigorously. “I love the program.” Her original motive of working through the upcoming school year merely to avoid taking a science course wasn’t important any longer.

  “Let me tell you a little about Ben before you meet him.” Mrs. Graham leaned back, looking more relaxed. “He was first diagnosed with a rare form of cancer when he was three. I was his nurse and let me tell you, he won my heart. He was in the hospital for four months before we achieved remission, and by then everyone on the floor had fallen in love with him. I mean, most patients don’t stay here that long for treatments, but his circumstances were unusual.”

  Mrs. Graham shifted in her chair. “His family lives about two and a half hours east of Tampa in Crystal River. His father drives a semi and is on the road a lot. His mother is very sweet and very young. When Ben got his diagnosis, his mother stayed at the hospital almost round the clock and was here for most of his treatments. The staff sort of adopted Ben and his mother. It happens—you just get involved sometimes, even when you know you shouldn’t.