Kathleen's Story

by Lurlene McDaniel

  Yet in spite of the mess she was facing, the thoughts occupied Kathleen’s mind most that morning were of Carson’s kisses the night before. Just the memory made her feel hot all over. Only yesterday she had been a kissing amateur; today she felt like a bona fide expert in the art of the kiss. Practice did make perfect, after all.

  She basked in the glow of the memory until she heard the unmistakable sounds of her mother banging around in the kitchen. With a sigh, Kathleen tossed off her covers, slipped on cutoffs and a tee, and padded into the kitchen. She watched her mother from the doorway attempting to make coffee and finally said, “Good morning, Mom. Can I help?”

  Mary Ellen flashed her a cold look. “I can do it.”

  Although the kitchen was wheelchair adapted, Mary Ellen kept bumping into counters. When she spilled coffee filters all over the floor, Kathleen went and picked them up. “Why wreck the place just because you’re mad at me?”

  “Don’t speak to me that way.”

  Kathleen placed a filter in the coffee machine and scooped coffee into it. “Mom, I don’t know what else to say except I’m sorry.”

  “Why do you even bother to have a phone if you don’t keep it with you?”

  “I—I don’t know. What with the hospital party and all, I just forgot.” She guiltily remembered that she’d left it in the car without meaning to.

  “And why were you driving Raina’s car? Why didn’t she go to the store? Especially if you had cramps? And why is it in our driveway this morning?”

  Kathleen cringed. She knew she would not be able to continue the lie, yet to confess the truth now seemed even worse. “Listen, I—”

  The ringing of the phone saved her. Kathleen grabbed the portable receiver while her mother gave her a disgusted look. It was Raina wanting to know about her car.

  “Mom and I are having breakfast, but I’m sure you can stop by in a little bit,” Kathleen said pleasantly, hoping Raina picked up on her underlying message. I can’t talk now.

  Raina said, “Can’t you drive it over later?”

  “I wouldn’t count on it.”

  Raina sighed. “All right. I’ll have my mom drop me there. She’s not going in till noon today. Will I be allowed in the house?”

  “Yes. No one’s mad at you.” Kathleen told Raina goodbye, then said to her mother, “Raina’s coming over later. Can I fix you some breakfast?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Mom…you should eat.”

  When the coffee was ready, her mother poured herself a cup, put it on a tray laid across her lap and rolled toward the doorway. At the door, she tossed over her shoulder, “Maybe I’ll just have a bowl of ice cream for breakfast.”

  “Has she forgiven you yet?” Raina asked. She was sitting on the floor in Kathleen’s room while Kathleen sorted through her dresser drawers, tossing out piles of clothing that she’d decided she hated.

  “She’s still pretty bummed,” Kathleen said.

  “Does she yell? My mom yells. We have a screaming match, then kiss and make up.”

  “No. She sulks. And she gets depressed.” Kathleen ran out of fevered energy for her project and dropped onto her bed. “I hate upsetting her because I feel guilty about hurting her. She can’t take a lot of emotional upheaval, you know. It’s difficult for her. Not good for her MS.” Kathleen turned toward Raina. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Ask away.”

  “Do you ever miss having a father around?”

  The question drew Raina up short because it was so unexpected. Although she and Kathleen were both fatherless, they had rarely talked about it. “Not anymore. It used to bother me. When I was in elementary school and we had parents’ night and kids would show up with two parents, that bothered me. By sixth grade, I started to notice that there were other single mothers, so I decided it wasn’t so bad. Plus I don’t ever remember a dad in the house. I was a baby when mine cut out.”

  Raina rose, walked to the framed photo of Kathleen’s father and picked it up. “But you knew your dad, so I guess it’s different for you.”

  “Very different,” Kathleen said, a catch in her voice. “Mom and I both miss him. It’s like a dark hole in our lives.”

  Raina’s heart went out to her friend. “I don’t even know what my dad looks like. Mom burned their wedding pictures and she told me he hated cameras, so…” She shrugged. “And if I sometimes think about him popping back into our lives, I remember Holly and Hunter’s dad. I don’t think I could stand someone barking orders at me the way he does to them.”

  Their perception of Holly’s father was different. Kathleen didn’t see him as dictatorial, but as concerned and caring. “He’s not so bad,” she said. “You know how Holly exaggerates.”

  Raina set the photo back on the bedside table. “I used to fantasize about my dad trying to come back into my life. I pictured him coming to the front door and begging Mom and me to take him back and both of us slamming the door in his face.”

  “I just think about all the things we can’t ever do together,” Kathleen confessed. “I’ll never dance with my father.”

  Silence settled in the room like a shroud. Kathleen shivered.

  Raina stretched her arms above her head. “Well, we’ve certainly dug ourselves a pity pit, haven’t we!”

  They looked at one another and laughed self-consciously. “My fault,” Kathleen said.

  “Then let’s talk about something happy. How about your date with Carson? I haven’t heard any details yet.”

  The memory again flooded Kathleen with warmth. “When we got to his house, he took me upstairs to a second-floor balcony overlooking the pool. And we watched the fireworks. They came right up over the trees. It was like our own private show.”

  Raina looked incredulous. “That’s it? You watched fireworks?”

  Kathleen sent her a sidelong glance. “Then we made some fireworks of our own.”

  Raina jumped her friend, put her hands around her throat in mock strangulation and shook her. “You dog! Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? Like, you made out with him?”

  Kathleen laughed and escaped Raina’s hold. “For hours,” she said. “I thought I was going to sizzle and pop like a firecracker.”

  “For hours?” Raina looked uneasy.

  “Don’t panic. He was a good boy…kept his hands to himself.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “I wouldn’t have let him…you know, go any further.”

  The two girls fell silent. “That’s good,” Raina finally said. “He should respect you.”

  Kathleen’s face softened. She reached over and laid her hands atop Raina’s. “Like Hunter respects you,” she said. “I won’t forget how important it is to be respected.”

  “Please don’t ever forget,” Raina whispered.

  “So what would you say if I told you I had a boyfriend at the hospital?” Holly posed her question at the dinner table one night while her family were passing bowls of vegetables to one another.

  Her father stopped in the middle of dropping green beans onto his plate and eyed his daughter. “I’d say thanks for telling us and then no, you can’t have a boyfriend. Not at fifteen.”

  “But Dad—” Holly was careful to insert a whine of exasperation in her voice while flashing Hunter a look that said, “Play along.”

  Hunter looked confused but said nothing.

  “No dating,” Mike said firmly. “Did you know about this, Evelyn?”

  Holly’s mother shook her head. “She’s never said a word to me.”

  “Hunter?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve been on a missions trip, remember?”

  “Ben’s a very nice guy,” Holly said. “How can you judge him without meeting him?”

  “I’m not judging this Ben,” her father said. “I’m telling you that you can’t date him.”

  “Well, too late. We’ve already had a date,” Holly huffed.

  “When?” her mother asked. “We would never have given you permis
sion.”

  “I didn’t ask. It was a function at the hospital. You know, that July Fourth party. I didn’t think I had to ask permission to go downstairs to a party with him.”

  “I thought you were in the volunteer program to help the hospital, not to meet boys.” Her mother’s voice held a reprimand.

  “Maybe you should meet him before saying no,” Hunter suggested. Holly had told him all about Ben while he had unpacked from his trip.

  Holly flashed him a pouty look. She wasn’t finished having her fun with their parents yet. She said, “Hunter’s right. Dad, why don’t you meet Ben before you make me give him up?”

  “I don’t think meeting him is going to change my mind.”

  “Of course not. You’ve already closed your mind,” Holly said. “Why don’t you trust me?”

  “It’s nothing to do with trust,” Evelyn started.

  “Then why?”

  Mike pursed his lips. “Okay, let’s stop this argument before it starts. I’ll come meet him.”

  Holly smiled slyly. “Good. How about Thursday? I have a break at three. Ben and I’ll meet you in the cafeteria.” She had already received permission from the floor nurse to take Ben to the hospital cafeteria for a snack following his afternoon chemo treatment. Because chemotherapy was often so hard on children, the staff went to extra lengths to ease their discomfort and offer them anything they wanted or were able to eat. She already knew how much Ben loved chocolate cake and had promised him a piece.

  “Your father’s at work,” Evelyn began.

  “I can leave early.” Holly’s father was the leading salesman for his company and had flexible hours.

  “Then you can meet Ben. You can too, Mom.”

  Evelyn shook her head. “Your father can handle this one.”

  “Your loss,” Holly said, and returned to her meal.

  Holly stayed with Ben during his chemo treatment in the room set aside for the infusion procedure. She talked to him and read to him during the hour-long process, having promised Mrs. Graham and her friends that she’d be by his side through the ordeal since his mother couldn’t, even if it meant going in on days she wasn’t working as a volunteer. Holly’s presence lessened Ben’s apprehension, so it was an easy promise to keep.

  “He really likes you,” Sue, the charge nurse on the pediatric oncology floor, told her. “Thank you for taking the time to work with him.”

  On Thursday, while Ben was in the infusion chair with the IV line dripping chemo into the shunt implanted in his small chest, she asked, “We still going for chocolate cake?”

  He was fiddling with an electronic toy, scoring points in a Spider-Man game. “I guess. If I don’t get sick.”

  “My daddy wants to meet you, so I invited him to have cake with us.”

  “Me?”

  “He heard we went out on a date.”

  Ben’s little forehead furrowed. “He’s not mad at me, is he?”

  Holly patted his arm. “No way! He just wants to meet this guy Ben I keep talking about.”

  “You talk about me?” This seemed to please him.

  “All the time.”

  “Okay. I’ll try hard not to get sick,” Ben said, returning to his game.

  Holly smiled to herself, eager to see the expression on her father’s face when he met the boy in her life!

  fourteen

  HOLLY BOUGHT BEN the biggest piece of chocolate cake on the cafeteria line. She placed his wheelchair by a sunny window in a back corner and sat facing the doorway, and while he dove into the cake, she waited for her father. As soon as she saw him, she stood and waved him over. As he came alongside the table, looking at Ben and then looking perplexed, she said, “Dad, this is Ben Keller,” with a beaming smile.

  Ben looked up and said, “Hi.” Chocolate was smeared all over his mouth, and cake crumbs had fallen onto his hospital-issue pj’s.

  Holly watched comprehension spread across her father’s face. He offered Ben a sheepish smile and held out his hand. “Glad to meet you, Ben.”

  Ben glanced toward Holly, who said, “Go on and shake his hand. He won’t bite.”

  Ben let his fork drop onto the plate and held out his small hand. Holly’s father grasped it warmly. “Holly told me the two of you went on a date.”

  Ben nodded. “We ate ice cream. I like Holly. She’s nice to me.”

  Holly saw Mike’s gaze travel to the gap in Ben’s pajama top that revealed the tape used to flatten the shunt to his thin chest, then to the hospital ID bracelet that hung loosely on his wrist. “That cake looks good. Maybe Holly will get me a piece while you and I talk.” He gave Holly a five-dollar bill. “You want something else?”

  Ben shook his head. “No, thank you. I’m getting full.”

  Holly could see that Ben was starting to look pale. “Dad, let me take Ben back to his room. I think he needs to lie down,” she said quickly.

  “I’ll wait for you,” her father said.

  “It may take me some time.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  Holly needed more than forty-five minutes to get Ben upstairs and resting in his bed because he threw up his cake and had to be cleaned and changed. “I’m sorry,” he whispered before she left. “I liked the cake a lot, but my tummy didn’t.”

  “I’ll buy you more anytime,” she told him. “Get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  When she finally rejoined her father in the cafeteria, he had hung his suit jacket on the back of his chair and was drinking a cup of coffee. “Ben got sick,” she said, pulling out a chair and sitting. “The chemo, you know. Last time he didn’t get sick. You can never tell how it’s going to go.”

  Mike Harrison studied her with his piercing dark eyes. “Why do you do that, Holly?”

  “Do what? Help Ben?”

  “No… why do you go out of your way to jerk my chain?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” She offered an innocent shrug but felt uncomfortable.

  “Sure you do. You could have just as easily told me and your mom about Ben at the dinner table. Why did you make it sound like you were involved with some high school boy when you weren’t?”

  “You just drew the wrong conclusion.”

  “No… you went out of your way to give the wrong impression.”

  Holly saw that her father wasn’t angry, which was a good thing, but he didn’t seem to be taking her little joke very well. She folded her hands in her lap. “I didn’t do it to be mean. I guess I just want you to see me like the people around this place see me.”

  “And how’s that?”

  “Trustworthy.”

  “Do you really think that your mother and I don’t trust you?”

  “Sometimes I wonder.” Although she had a laundry list of examples, she didn’t want to start an argument.

  Mike stirred his coffee. “Please don’t confuse house rules with lack of trust. We love you, Holly. We want what’s best for you. We take the responsibility of being parents very seriously.”

  “I know that. I never said you and Mom weren’t good parents. All I’m asking for is fewer restrictions. When school starts I’ll be a junior, and I still can’t pick out the clothes I want to wear.” A door of opportunity had swung open unexpectedly and Holly didn’t want to let it close while she had her father’s undivided attention.

  “Is that what this is all about? Wearing clothes we don’t approve of?”

  “Of course not. It’s about me having more freedom.”

  He didn’t say anything right away, just continued to study her, his gaze inscrutable. At long last, he spoke. “When you were little, we made you hold our hand crossing streets. You didn’t want to do that and kept tugging away. One time, you sat down in the middle of the street, screaming and trying to break free while cars started coming right at us.”

  She didn’t remember the incident but had to believe him. “What’s your point? I know how to be careful now.”

  “Trust is earned. You can’t be given it auto
matically.”

  She resisted rolling her eyes. Suddenly this was turning into a lecture instead of a discussion. “So what you’re saying is that you and Mom don’t trust me to make smart choices.”

  “It’s not black and white, Holly. And we do trust you. Up to a point.”

  She wanted to explode but remembered where she was. “Fine,” she said, swallowing her anger. “Will you please let me know when I pass the magic point and become one hundred percent trustworthy?”

  Mike took a deep breath and stood. “For starters, you can begin by not ever pulling a stunt like this one again.”

  “What stunt?”

  “Using a sick child to get your way.”

  “But I never—”

  “That little Ben isn’t a chess piece. I’m glad you’ve taken an interest in helping him, but don’t ever use anybody like that again. Manipulation isn’t attractive.” Mike picked up his suit coat from the back of the chair. “Now, I’ll see you at home later. But for what it’s worth, permission granted—you can continue to ‘date’ Ben.”

  Holly watched her father walk away, his admonition stinging like a slap across her face.

  Holly cried later that evening when she recounted the story to Hunter in his room. “It isn’t fair! I was just trying to make him see me like others do. Why did he accuse me like that? I’d never do anything to hurt Ben. I’m not using him!”

  Hunter held out a tissue box and a wastebasket. Holly grabbed several more tissues and tossed her used ones away. Hunter set the wastebasket on the floor. “I can see Dad’s side.”

  “What! How can you take his side!”

  “Don’t blow up at me. I’m a sympathetic ear, remember? Think about how it looked to Dad. He goes to the hospital thinking he’s got to face you and some boy he’s never met, prepared to tell him you aren’t allowed to date, and instead he’s facing a little five-year-old kid with cancer. That was a big shock to his system. I can see where it might have made him think you were playing a pity card to soften him up.”