Courage Tree (30 page)

“Man, you are just…You don’t quit, do you? You develop some secret formula, and that gives you permission to break all the rules.”

“I know it must seem that way to you, Joe,” Lucas said. “And maybe you’re right. Maybe I do think that what I’m doing is important enough to allow me to break a rule or two. But the fact is, I got Schaefer to believe in P.R.E.-5. Actually, he and I had planned to do the study under both our names, using his first to give it credibility. But when I found out about Sophie…well, she wouldn’t have been allowed in the
study if I had been one of the researchers, since she’d be a relative.”

“You are absolutely crazy.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Lucas grinned. “I think you’re in for a surprise. Schaefer’s having a press conference this afternoon to announce the two-month results of the study. The results are excellent, across the board. Better than even I had expected.”

“I won’t believe it until I hear someone other than Schaefer—or you—say that the stuff has some merit.”

“I think you should watch the press conference then.” Lucas still wore his grin.

“Will it be on the news?” Joe asked.

“Should be. Definitely.”

“Even if the herbal stuff is the miracle you think it is, I’m still bothered by the way you used Janine,” Joe said. “I realize that you’re not above using anyone if it means advancing your research, or whatever. But you played with her emotions in order to get Sophie into your study.”

“No,” Lucas said. “I fell in love with Janine. For real.”

Joe rubbed his chin with his hand. He wasn’t sure whether to believe Lucas on that point or not. He wasn’t even sure that he wanted it to be the truth. “And how do you explain the porn you had in your recycling?” he asked.

“I don’t know what you could be talking about,” Lucas said. “I just had old mail and newspapers in the recycling. Oh!” He looked as though he remembered something. “Medical journals, maybe? There might have been medical journals in there. Pediatric journals. Could that be what you saw?”

Yes, it certainly could have been. Instantly, the image of the nude child returned to him, and only then did Joe recall that the photograph had been in black and white and rather clinical in its pose.

“I don’t know,” he said, unwilling to give up his anger toward Lucas so easily.

“Your skepticism is completely understandable, Joe,” Lucas said. “I was never playing with a full deck.”

Joe looked at him. “My mother,” he said. “I’d like to hear more about her.”

Lucas smiled. “She’d like to hear more about you, too,” he said. “She—”

“Joe?”

Both men turned toward the door at the sound of Janine’s voice. Joe stood up.

“Hi, Janine,” he said, getting to his feet. “I just stopped in to thank Lucas for helping us search for Sophie.”

“Oh,” she said, but she wore a suspicious expression on her face, and he was certain she didn’t believe him. Then she looked at Lucas, and Joe saw the concern in her eyes, the affection, the sort of loving gaze that she’d never had for him.

He started toward the hallway, touching her arm as he passed her. In the doorway, he turned around to look at them. Janine was standing next to Lucas’s chair, and she waved, but it wasn’t Janine he’d turned around to see. He’d just needed to take one more look at the man who claimed to be his brother.

“Y
ou’re so quiet today,” Paula said. “And you’ve barely touched your dinner.”

Joe was at her town house, sitting next to her on the sofa, watching the six o’clock news in the hope that it would cover Schaefer’s press conference. He looked guiltily at the TV tray in front of him, at the steak Paula had grilled especially for him; she would never eat red meat, herself. But he had no appetite, no interest in food. And no ability to think about anything but his conversation with Lucas that afternoon.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m not very hungry right now.”

“Do you want to try a different channel?” Paula asked.

“No,” he said. “This is fine.” He cut a chunk from the steak. It was perfectly cooked, medium rare, and he raised it to his mouth only to stop it halfway, as the newscaster began to speak again.

“And there’s hope on the horizon for children with kidney failure,” the man said, a lilt in his voice, as though he actually cared. “That story next.”

Joe rested his fork on the side of his plate and reached for
the remote to turn up the volume. He’d told Paula that Schaefer was going to have a press conference this afternoon, but he’d said nothing about his conversation with Lucas. He had to sit with that news himself awhile before he could talk about it with anyone else. That secret conversation still felt as though he’d dreamed it.

“What do you think he’s going to say?” Paula asked.

“I’m not sure,” Joe said. “And with Sophie gone, I’m not even sure what to hope for.”

Footage began of the press conference, which had been held at Children’s Hospital. Schaefer was at the podium, with several men and one woman sitting at long tables on either side of him.

Schaefer spoke in his vaguely Boston accent as he described the study. A film was shown of several of his young patients receiving Herbalina—which he called by the more scientific name Joe had heard Lucas use that afternoon: P.R.E.-5. Except for the fact that they were hooked up to IVs, the children looked hale and hearty, and they joked with their parents, with Schaefer and with the camera crew.

“We certainly had hope this treatment would…uh, work, but it has far exceeded our expectations,” the little man said in the halting style Joe remembered from the one antagonistic conversation he’d had with him before Sophie began the study. “Of the seventeen patients starting P.R.E.-5 treatment just, uh, two months ago, normal kidney function has been restored in two of them, and all the others have significantly reduced their dependence on dialysis.”

A pediatric nephrologist from Children’s Hospital took the podium, and Joe recognized him as one of the many physicians who had, at one time or another, consulted on Sophie’s medical treatment. He was one of the doctors, as a matter of fact, who had tried to dissuade Janine from enrolling Sophie in the study.

“I will be the first to admit that I had no faith in this un
orthodox treatment,” the doctor said. “But as of this time, having examined fifteen of Dr. Schaefer’s patients, I have to say that their improvement is not only astonishing, but it also seems to be accompanied by very few, if any, side effects. It’s time that we took a more serious look at P.R.E.-5, and move this ground-breaking research to a larger scale.”

Other speakers took to the podium, but the message was the same in every case: amazement that P.R.E.-5 was working, admiration for the unassuming little man they thought to be its creator, and a readiness to move forward with the next stage of the research.

Joe was literally shaking by the time the footage was over. His body felt out of his control, and somehow Paula knew. She hit the mute button on the remote, knelt next to him on the sofa, and wrapped her arms around him.

He let his head fall against her shoulder. “It was going to work,” he said through his tears. “Sophie really was getting better. She would have been all right. She would have…” He shook his head, unable to speak any longer. Lucas had been telling him the truth. His tangled web of lies had been woven for a noble purpose. And he’d risked everything to be able to have Sophie in the study of a treatment he believed in.

“God,” Joe said, “the grief I gave Janine over this!”

Paula held him tightly, as if to stop his shaking. “You didn’t know,” she said. “Who could have? You operated on the best information available. You took the recommendations of Sophie’s doctors. What more could you do, Joey?”

“You yourself thought I should give the herbal stuff more credit,” he said.

“Oh, I don’t know, Joe,” Paula said. “I can truly understand why you would think that strange little guy had no idea what he was talking about.”

“He doesn’t.”

She leaned away from him. “But you just said—”

Joe loosened her arms from around him and shifted away
from her so that he could look into her eyes. “You wondered why I’ve been so quiet today,” he began.

“Yes.”

“Well, I had a long visit with Lucas this morning.”

She looked puzzled. “And…?”

“And it turns out that
Lucas
is the brains behind the study.”

“Lucas? What do you mean?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Joe stood up and ran his hands through his hair. “Lucas is the brains. And he would have been Sophie’s savior, too. Just like he’s been Janine’s advocate against me, and against her parents. Against us blockheads. And my big contribution was to stand in Janine’s way and make her life miserable. You said it yourself. She got her support from Lucas. She got jack from me.” He groaned, pressing his hands to his temples. “I can’t believe all the things I’ve misinterpreted!”

“I’m lost,” Paula said. “What are you talking about?” She sat on the sofa, staring up at him, the expression on her face one of both confusion and worry.

He sat down next to her again. “You know that Lucas has renal failure,” he said.

“Yes, and I still think that’s a weird coincidence that he—”

“He’s not actually a gardener.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s a botany professor,” Joe said, “and I guess he played around with some herbs and came up with Herbalina, which he thought would help pediatric patients. He knew no one would pay attention to him if he wanted to head the research, so he found Schaefer to do it for him. Schaefer’s just a front.”

“But isn’t that a bizarre coincidence, that Lucas happened to take the Ayr Creek job, with Sophie living in the cottage there?”

“It was no coincidence,” Joe said. He drew in a long breath, then let everything Lucas had told him that morning spill out of him. He described the loss of Lucas’s own daughter, his
discovery that he had a half brother named Joe, and his manipulation of every law in the books to get Sophie into the study. By the time he’d finished talking, Paula was crying.

“Why are
you
crying?” he asked.

“Because I hurt for you.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “Thank you.”

“And I love you.”

He looked at her, surprised by the emotion, the ardor in her voice.

“I love you, too,” he said.

“No, Joe. I mean I
love
you,” she said. “Not just as a friend, which I know is how
you
mean it.”

He studied her face—the fine lines around her eyes, the freckle on her left nostril, the one lock of dark hair that never stayed in place above her ear. She was dear to him. But it was true that he had never thought of her as anything more than a very close friend.

“You know you’re very special to me, don’t you?” he asked, knowing those words were a weak response to her admission.

“Yes, I do. And I’ve watched you yearn for Janine,” she said. “It’s hurt me, because I wanted it to be me you were yearning for.”

“I’ve always been honest with you,” he said. “I mean, I never gave you reason to—”

“No, you’ve made it clear we were just friends. But that hasn’t stopped me from wanting more. Or from loving you.”

Joe shook his head. “I’m not even sure I know what love is anymore,” he said, frustrated.

“You do.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you showed it to me when my mom died,” she said. “You came over to be with me in the middle of the night. You skipped work and your golf game and dropped everything for me. You drove down to Florida with me, so I wouldn’t have to make the trip alone, and you worried about me when I
didn’t eat. I felt very, truly…loved. So, I don’t believe you when you say you don’t know what love is. I think you are positively over-flowing with it, Joey. For Sophie. For Janine. And even for me.”

He thought back to the moment Paula had called him to tell him that her mother had died. He’d felt her pain across the phone line, felt it deep in his bones, deep enough that it had brought tears to his eyes. He would have done anything in his power to save her from that hurt.

“Come here, Paula,” he said, pulling her close to him again. He held her tightly, feeling himself fill with gratitude and admiration for her, and he wondered if she just might be right about him, after all.

“W
e’re all so sorry about Sophie,” the nurse said when Joe checked in at the reception desk in Schaefer’s office Tuesday morning. She had red hair, the same shade as Sophie’s, and he couldn’t stop staring at it.

“Thanks,” he said. “And thanks for squeezing me in today.”

“No problem. I know Dr. Schaefer would want to extend his condolences to you in person.” She peered over her shoulder to look down a long hallway. “I can take you back right now,” she said. “The kids are getting their Herbalina IVs, and he’s in his office.”

He followed her through the waiting room door and down the hall, remembering the only other time he’d set foot in this office. He’d left yelling then, cursing this fool of a doctor for taking advantage of Janine and making a guinea pig out of Sophie. God, he’d been a pompous ass.

But Dr. Schaefer did not seem one to hold grudges. He stood up and reached across his desk to shake Joe’s hand, and the smile he wore was kind and sympathetic.

“Mr. Donohue,” he began. Motioning to one of the chairs
in the room with his small, wiry hand. “Please, uh, have a seat.”

Joe took a seat on the other side of Schaefer’s broad walnut desk.

“I’m sorry about Sophie,” Schaefer said. “It’s an incredible tragedy. Just when she was getting well.”

Joe nodded. “And I know now that she
was
getting well.”

“Yes.” Schaefer nodded. “I spoke with Lucas. He called from the hospital and told me that you know everything.”

“I was…shocked,” Joe said. “I still am.”

“You understand the need to keep what you know to yourself, don’t you?” Schaefer looked worried.

“Yes, I do.” Joe shifted in his seat. He’d come to this meeting with several questions on his mind, questions that had kept him awake most of the night, and he was anxious to get to them. “Do you think Sophie would have been cured if she’d been able to continue with the…P.R.E.-5?” he asked.

“I’m not sure about cured.” Schaefer played with the silver fountain pen on his desk, rolling it an inch to the left, an inch to the right. “But I believe we could have gotten her disease under very good control. And I believe that Lucas was on to something, and if he’d only had the chance, he could have played around with his formula, or maybe with the way it was, uh, administered, and in time, he would have come up with both a cure for the kids and a way to make it work with adults. That’s where he was headed.”

“Well, he can still do that, right?” Joe asked. “You’re talking in the past tense.”

Schaefer shook his head. “Did he tell you how sick he is?”

“He needs frequent dialysis. An eventual transplant, I suppose?”

“They took him off the transplant list.”

“Why would they do that? Because he’s too sick?” He remembered that Sophie needed to be in otherwise good health before they would allow her to receive Janine’s kidney.

“No. He’s stabilizing. Physically, he’d be able to tolerate a transplant. But they took him off the list because he’s, uh, handled his treatment very irresponsibly of late. He’s missed dialysis treatments, he’s rushed through them. Taken too many risks with his life, when other candidates follow their treatment to the letter.”

“Why did he do that?”

Schaefer chuckled softly to himself, and Joe felt slightly mocked. “First, because he put so many hours into trying to find a cure for pediatric renal failure while pretending to be a gardener,” he said with more than a touch of sarcasm. “But more recently, because he’s put so many hours into trying to find your daughter.”

Joe felt chastened. “He should have taken care of himself first,” he said. “He won’t be much good to anyone else if he’s not able to do the research.”

Schaefer fingered the pen on his desk, and it was a moment before he spoke again. “Do you know what it’s like to put the needs of other people ahead of your own, Mr. Donohue?” he asked.

Joe narrowed his eyes at the verbal barb. “Yes, I do,” he said, his anger rising. “I was a good father to Sophie, damn it.”

“I don’t doubt that, and I’m sorry.” Schaefer looked suddenly contrite. “I’m stepping over the, uh, the line here,” he stammered. “It’s just that Lucas Trowell is a humanitarian who loved your daughter and your ex-wife, and who hasn’t allowed himself much happiness in his own life because he cares too much about everyone else. So, I’m impatient with any criticism of him right now. And I have the National Institutes of Health breathing down my neck because they’re hot to take the P.R.E.-5 study to a higher level, and—”

“Can
you
do it?” Joe asked, leaning forward in his chair. “I mean, do you understand enough about the…the formula or whatever to be able to manage the research without Lucas?”

Schaefer shook his head. “I understand the current formula,” he said. “I understand how it works. But I don’t have a clue about the theory behind it. I don’t know how to manipulate it…to, uh,
tweak
it, as Lucas would say. And I’m worried that Lucas will never be well enough to continue doing the research behind the scenes. So I’m in a bind, and you’re hearing my frustration.”

“I understand.” Joe stood up, still stinging a bit from the doctor’s attack on his character. He’d come to this meeting with a number of questions, but one primary purpose: to know if Schaefer could continue the study without Lucas’s help. Now he had the answer.

The red-haired nurse saw him walking down the hall after leaving Schaefer’s office.

“Mr. Donohue!” she said, rushing toward him. “I wanted to catch you before you left. A few of the kids are getting their IVs right now, and their parents wanted to see you.”

“I don’t really have time.” Joe kept walking. He was not up to meeting a bunch of sick kids and their parents.

“Please. They begged me to bring you back to the Herbalina room.”

He made a show of looking at his watch, although there was nowhere he truly needed to be.

“Okay,” he said. “Just for a minute.”

She guided him down the hallway once again. The large room at the end of the hall reminded him a bit of a dialysis treatment room, but there were none of the cumbersome dialysis machines, only IV bags on poles, and four kids sitting in recliners. Three women and one man rose to their feet as he entered the room.

“Joe!” one of the women said, as though she knew him. She took his hand, squeezing it between both of hers. “We feel so terrible.”

“Sophie was such a delight,” another woman said. “We all miss her so much.”

“She was doing so well on Herbalina,” the first woman said. “It’s so unfair.”

The man shook Joe’s hand. “I’m Jack’s dad,” he said, nodding toward the small boy in the recliner. “We got to be sort of a family here. I know you didn’t think much of the study, from what Janine said, but I hope you realize now that she was making the right choice for Sophie.”

Joe nodded. “I know.”

“That was Sophie’s chair.” One of the women pointed to the recliner nearest the window. A few stuffed animals were propped up against the back of the seat. “All the kids brought stuffed animals in, you know, for Sophie when she came back. I guess we’ll eventually donate them to the hospital or something, but for now we like having them there as a reminder of her.”

Joe could only nod again; he seemed to have lost his voice. He could picture Sophie in that chair, hooked up to an IV the way these other kids were, bravely enduring yet another affront to her fragile and unreliable body.

He looked around him at the three boys and one girl. A couple of the boys smiled at him. Another read a magazine, while the little girl colored in a coloring book. Joe knew they were all smaller than their ages would suggest, but they had rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes.

And thanks to Lucas Trowell, they had every reason to hope.