A Short Walk Home (3 page)

“What kind of information are you referring to?” I asked. I had already told her everything I knew about Logan’s condition; as far as I was concerned, we were in the dark to virtually equal degrees.

“I want to know how many boys with the same amount of damage as Logan have been transplanted in the past decade. I also need to know their success rates. In my opinion, that’s the most important thing we can know moving forward.”

Not having this information readily on hand, I immediately called Paul and asked him to touch base with Jaymee with this information. He told me she would have what she wanted within minutes—he seemed to understand exactly what she was looking for.

The phone rang again a few minutes later. Jaymee had spoken with Paul. “Don’t buy the tickets. There really is no point.” Jaymee’s mood was difficult to judge. Her serious tone was gone, but what had replaced it was unrecognizable.

“Over 80 percent of those boys with similar amounts of damage have died from transplant-related complications.” This news didn’t faze me much. In light of Logan’s terrible prognosis, this really came as no surprise.

But Jaymee was adamant. “We are
not
going. The way I see it, we would leave here a family of four, only to return a few months later a family of three. I understand ALD, David. I watched my
father slowly die from it. What’s more, I have listened to you for the past five years. I’ve watched you advise the families of those with ALD, and I feel the time has come to follow our own advice.

“You tell everyone that regardless of the course they choose to pursue, they must put their child’s quality of life
first
. And that is what I want us to do. We love him, so let’s
show
him that. Let him go to bed every night with no doubt at all just how much he is loved. This is what I want, and I hope that you will support me.” I could close my eyes and see the tear running down her cheek as she spoke.

I tried to collect myself before speaking. “Jaymee, as much as I had hoped that he would have a chance, if this is what Logan needs, then he will have it. I’m sorry, baby. I’m just so sorry that things are going to go this way. Between your dad, uncle, and cousins, you have lost too much to this disease. I’m just sorry that we did not realize this sooner. I am still stunned. I love you Jaymee, and I promise to do my best to give you what you need. I’ll talk to you in a while.” I hung up. I really did not know what else to say.

When Logan returned from camp that afternoon, I just sat and watched him. I observed every move, every motion. My mind was racing, without any clear destination in sight. I suppose that my intimate knowledge of ALD made me look for the things that were not yet there; the changes that had yet to begin.

That night before bed, I eased my way into his room and just looked at him. As he slept, my mind jumped days, even months forward. I found myself choking up for a moment, and had to turn away. After returning to my room and getting into bed, I let out a tremendous sigh. Our sweet, innocent little boy had no idea what would happen next.

And in a way, I envied him that.

“H
ELLO
?”

“Ms. Godfrey? This is David Cry, with The ALD Foundation. I wanted to discuss the email you sent me.”

“Wow. I just sent it last night, and you’re already getting back to me? Thank you so much!”

Jaymee Godfrey, a single mother from Akron, Ohio, had been referred to me after her son, Logan, was born with the predisposition to develop ALD. Believing that I could address Jaymee’s questions in a more meaningful way than they could, officials with the Stop ALD Foundation had advised her to reach out to me. I will be forever grateful to them for sending Jaymee in my direction.

Jaymee had already witnessed the loss of her father, her uncle, and two cousins, and her anxiety at Logan’s diagnosis showed in her writing.

“I understand that you are concerned about your son,” I began, after exchanging pleasantries. “I want to help guide you through this, by answering whatever questions you may have and providing support as you need it.”

“I was wondering just what I should be looking for,” she said, her tone that of a concerned mother.

“Well, that
is
a bit complicated. Nothing is going to really jump out at you, but there
are
things that you can do. He should be tested for Addison’s disease, first of all. That’s a condition where his body does not produce enough adrenaline. He would be excessively tired or run down, and you would see a darkening of his pigmentation.” I quickly rattled off the standard list of things to check for.

“Really? You mean he’d look like he has a tan?”

“Even in the dead of winter. It’s a clear sign,” I said, trying to reassure Jaymee with an authoritative tone.

Over the next few months, Jaymee and I continued to speak. It was clear to both of us that there was a connection between us, despite the fact that we were separated by just over a thousand miles. Before long, Jaymee and I were talking every day. We got to know one another very well, albeit slowly, and before I knew it, something romantic seemed possible. That’s when everything changed.

“David? It’s Jaymee.” She sounded stressed and nervous. “I need to let you know something. Just before we met, I broke up with someone. We had dated for a while, and things … did not work out. But, well … we’ve been talking and we’re going to try and see if things will be better this time. I had to call to let you know because, if we’re really going to try, I … don’t think that you and I should talk anymore. I’m sorry but, I feel that if we continued to talk, it would be a tremendous … distraction. I hope that you can understand.” She was practically whispering by the time she finished speaking. To me, it seemed this decision had not been an easy one for her; there was still regret on her part at breaking off our friendship.

“Jaymee, I would never want to stand in the way of your happiness.” And surprisingly enough, I really meant that. “I wish nothing but the best for you. Of course, if anything changes, I would enjoy having the chance to speak with you again. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you.” Inside, of course, my instincts were screaming at me, at her; telling her not to get back together with him, telling me to say something, but I couldn’t. Had I lived down the street, or at least close by, it would have been different. But the distance was too great an obstacle to overcome.

“Of course, if you have questions about anything concerning Logan, simply send me an email and I will help you any way I can.” I did my best to leave the door open, at least a crack.

“Thank you, David. For everything.”

I felt a sting when she hung up. But it wasn’t a minute later that my instincts kicked back in. I’d be hearing from her again. I was sure of it.

It took only five weeks.

“David? It’s Jaymee. Things didn’t work out so … if you’re still willing, I would like for us to continue talking?”

“I’d like to say I’m sorry that things didn’t work out, but I’m really not.” I didn’t
want
to sound like an arrogant ass, but I really liked her.

“You know, the last time we spoke, I was actually hoping that you’d ask me not to get back together with him.” Her honesty was refreshing.

“Jaymee, you needed to know. Who am I to stand in the way of that?” And I was serious; I had been through enough bad relationships to learn that if something is going to work, sometimes you just have to let it.

From that day forward, we talked. We spoke in the morning. We spoke throughout the day. We spoke every evening, and I said goodnight to her every night before I went to sleep. We learned things about each other in a relationship without expectations, without pressure. We weren’t going out on dates, and were comfortable proceeding at a smoother, easier pace. At least, for the time being.

But after many months of daily sharing, I decided it was time to shake things up. I called up Jaymee. “Are you ready?” I asked.

Jaymee could hear the excitement in my voice. “Ready? Ready for what exactly?”

“I land at the Akron airport at 2:30 on Friday.” I tried to play it off cool and confident, but to this day I’m unsure whether I ever fooled her.

“Oh David, I’m so excited!” The genuine happiness in her voice was all I needed to turn my false bravado into real hope.

When it came to relationships, I was still a bit of a novice. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say I was a novice when it came to
healthy
relationships. Most of the “relationships” I had been involved in were caustic, ridiculous situations. I seemed to draw women with problems like moths to a flame. I had dated borderline personalities, bulimics, women riddled with anxiety, and even a bipolar or two. I guess my primary problem is that I cannot resist a good-looking woman who’s interested in me.

One standout actually admitted that my physical limitations were my most attractive feature; I made her feel less self-conscious and burdensome because I “had problems of my own.” True, my legs don’t work perfectly; but that does not mean that there is anything at all wrong with my mind. Frankly, my illness has made me a stronger, more resolute person.

But in Jaymee, I had found the proverbial “girl next door.”
Of course, she had by no means had an easy life; she’d traveled through miles of crap to get to where she was. But that was an attractive feature in and of itself. Jaymee’s mother had left her and her sister with her dad when she was 4. Her father, who had a variety of ideas as to the best way to raise children, was an inconsistent caregiver, on a constant search for a better life. Jaymee lived in multiple states throughout their childhood, and grew up somewhat poor as they followed their father on his nomadic search for answers. Although her father cared for her, theirs was a contentious relationship until she left to reunite with her mother at age 16. But living with her mother was a whole new challenge, as her mom exposed her to some of the darker sides of life. Riddled with addictions, her mom was unpredictable and unreliable. As a result, Jaymee left home to continue school and try to salvage a life for herself after barely a year with her mom. She had Logan at 21, but her relationship with Logan’s father was all but over by the time Logan celebrated his first birthday.

This was the young woman I was going to meet. Living her life on her own and highly independent, she had allowed me in, and you better believe I felt honored.

I arrived in Akron as scheduled, but when I got down to the baggage claim, Jaymee wasn’t there. I sat down, looked around, and started to get that unsettled feeling deep down. I spotted a sign for the hotel next door, and began seriously considering it as my backup plan. Just as I was resigning myself to sleeping on a hotel mattress, suddenly everything went black. I felt the warmth of breath and a kiss on the cheek. It turned out that Jaymee had hidden away, and had just been watching me squirm for a minute. Sensing my discomfort, she had decided to put her hands over my eyes and surprise me.

I pulled her close, feeling so happy to finally meet her face
to face. We went to dinner before spending the rest of the night talking. It had become something we were very good at. The next night we had dinner at her friend’s house, and we spent Sunday morning alternately enjoying each other’s company and wishing I did not have to leave.

Fortunately, I missed my plane and was “forced” into meeting her then-5-year-old son, Logan. After dinner that night, he and I set about making cookies in the kitchen. Once finished, I began taking them off the pan to place them on a wire rack, and when Logan asked to help, he gently placed his hand on top of mine as we removed the cookies together. When I glanced back over at Jaymee, she was sitting on the couch with a smile on her face and tears of happiness streaming down her cheeks. I think I made a good impression.

All too soon, Monday morning came and I was off. Back home in New Orleans, the very first thing I did was make a call to my oldest friend—Chef John Besh.

“Chef? It’s Cry. I need your help.” “I quickly explained my situation. “Jaymee is flying in on the 29th. Her birthday is the 30th. I’ve decided; I want to ask her to marry me, and want to do it at your restaurant. Can you help me?” I knew I was doing the right thing. So did John, though he gave me a hard time about it anyway.

“Marry you? What, does she need a green card? No wait, I forgot; that was the
last
one you were involved with. My bad.”

“John, I …” But of course he cut me off.

“David, of
course
I will help you. I will do anything you want me to. So, what are you thinking?”

We hashed out all the details, and a few days later I paid him a visit to put the plan in place. Just like that, everything was ready—I was going to ask Jaymee to spend the rest of her life with me,
just 15 days after meeting me for the first time. I’d taken some risks in life, but this one topped them all. It was my most fervent hope that things would work out well—for both of us.

The day of Jaymee’s arrival came before I knew it. The day she flew in, we spent some time in New Orleans, getting her acquainted with the city. We visited my parents and generally spent the day enjoying our time together. It was a nice time, mirroring the time we’d spent in her hometown, but the days still seemed to drag on forever. All I could think about was the proposal.