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Authors: Lurlene McDaniel

Kathleen's Story (10 page)

BOOK: Kathleen's Story
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fifteen

K
ATHLEEN WALKED ON
eggshells around her mother for a week, doing penance for her July Fourth escapade. Her mother made no other comments about it, which Kathleen found frustrating. She had fallen out of favor with her mother and she couldn’t gauge when she would be forgiven. She felt that they were off balance, out of sync. Perhaps Raina’s way was better—yell at each other and get it over with once and for all. Dragging out punishment didn’t do her or her mother any good.

To her surprise, Carson called her every night. She longed to be with him. He said he understood when she told him she needed to hang around her house a little while longer. Nor did he act impatient because she wouldn’t break her self-imposed exile. Yet when a week had passed, he showed up on her doorstep holding a pizza box and a carton of sodas. “How about me treating you and your mother to dinner tonight?” he said when Kathleen opened the front door.

“Who’s here, Kathleen?” Mary Ellen rolled into the foyer. “Oh,” she said, seeing Carson. “Hello there.”

“Carson Kiefer,” he said, introducing himself and offering one of his heart-stopping smiles. “I’m one of Kathleen’s friends from the hospital. I brought dinner. And a bag of movies from the video store. Interested?”

Mary Ellen glanced from Kathleen to Carson. “You two can eat without me.”

Carson shook his head. “No way. I brought the super king-size, so there’s plenty for the three of us. More than enough.”

Mary Ellen hesitated and Kathleen held her breath, waiting for the answer. “Are you sure?” she asked.

“Positive.”

“Well… all right. I’d like to join you.”

Buoyed by her mother’s receptiveness, Kathleen sprang into action. “I’ll make us a salad to go with it. Come on in.”

He stepped into the foyer. “No need. I had the pizza place put all that girly stuff on this baby.”

“Girly stuff?” Kathleen asked.

“You know, green peppers, olives, mushrooms. Us guys like the other food group— sausage, pepperoni, ham—but I thought, ‘Hey, why not toss on some veggies for the women?’”

Mary Ellen laughed. “Go make a salad, Kathleen. I’ll set the table. The pizza smells delicious.”

In the kitchen, Kathleen grabbed salad fixings from the refrigerator and a large wooden bowl and began tearing up lettuce leaves. Her mother drifted to the table and set out placemats and plates. To Kathleen’s surprise, Carson set to work chopping celery and carrots. “I’ll do that,” she said.

“What—you think I’ve never made a salad before? Why, I’m known as the Salad King at my house.”

“But you’re a guest.”

“I don’t want to be a guest,” he said. “I want to be one of the help.”

In no time, the bowl was heaped with greens and diced vegetables, the pizza was sitting on the table and cola had been poured into tall ice-filled glasses. They sat down and helped themselves to the food. Carson kept up a stream of hospital stories that made them laugh, and Kathleen couldn’t help noticing that her mother was eating more than she had in days, which thrilled her. Her own appetite had improved too, and she felt grateful for Carson’s impromptu visit.

When they were finished with the meal, Kathleen asked, “What movies did you bring?”

“A bunch. There’s some mushy girl flicks, some action ones with cool car chases, and some mysteries—but not the kind with blood and stuff,” he added quickly. “Wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I just checked out ten.”

“Ten!” Kathleen gaped at him, and he shrugged.

“Let’s try one of the action ones,” Mary Ellen said. “I see enough of the mushy girl movies.”

“Sounds good to me,” he said.

Mary Ellen asked, “Do you like being a Pink Angel, Carson?”

He looked pained. “Wish they’d call us something else. I don’t like pink and I’m no angel.” He grinned impishly and winked, making Mary Ellen laugh. “The program’s okay,” he added more seriously. “Got a whole lot better for me once I got together with Kathleen.”

Kathleen flushed with pleasure. “In other words, Mom, he was so bored that I started to look good to him.”

“Not true,” he countered. “She looked good to me from day one, but she avoided me like I had a serious virus.”

He couldn’t have made Kathleen feel better. For whatever reason, Carson was going public with his affection for her and she loved hearing it.

They went into the living room for the movie. Except for the sofa, there was one wingback chair that Kathleen thought highly uncomfortable. Mary Ellen’s nest in the corner of the sofa looked well worn and momentarily embarrassed Kathleen. Compared to Carson’s home, hers had to look shabby to him. “Mom’s got the
sofa,” she whispered to Carson. “I’ll get some big pillows and we’ll hit the floor.”

“Suits me,” he told her.

Kathleen went to help her mother from her wheelchair to the sofa and was shocked when she struggled to her feet. “I can do this,” she said, and took the few steps to the sofa cushions. Carson had also advanced to help, but Mary Ellen waved him off. “My legs are weak, but I can still use them.”

As her mother settled into the pillows and spread the blanket across her lap, it occurred to Kathleen that her mother didn’t want to appear helpless to Carson. She couldn’t figure why. Mary Ellen certainly allowed Kathleen to help her. In fact, Mary Ellen had days when she seemed virtually helpless and called on Kathleen continually for aid.

They watched the movie, not that Kathleen followed the plot. It was enough to be sprawled out on the floor next to Carson. When it was over, Mary Ellen climbed back into her chair unaided and said good night.

“Um—do you want me to come to your room with you?” Kathleen asked. She usually helped her mother get into bed.

“I can manage,” her mother said cheerfully. “You and Carson watch another movie. Just check on me before you go to bed, all right? Carson,
thank you for dinner tonight, and for your company.”

“We’ll do it again.”

Mystified by her mother’s rediscovered abilities, Kathleen watched her leave the room, listening to the whir of her electric chair as she headed down the hall. With a confused shake of her head, she asked Carson, “You want popcorn?”

“Sure.”

They went to the kitchen and Kathleen shoved a bag into the microwave.

“You went quiet,” he said. “Something wrong?”

She quickly smiled. “Nothing. It was just good to see Mom having a good time.”

“Watching a movie on the VCR is a good time?” Carson looked baffled. “What does she usually do for fun?”

“Not much.”

“Any friends?”

“A few, but she rarely leaves the house anymore.”

“And so you stay with her all the time?”

“I’m all she has.” Kathleen felt defensive. Her life and her obligations were too complicated to explain to a boy who had almost unlimited freedom as long as he stayed out of trouble.

“What about
your
life?”

Hadn’t her mother’s doctor asked the same
thing a few weeks ago? “I’m fine with my life. There’s no lock on the door, you know. I come and go like you do at your house.” Except that they both knew this wasn’t entirely true.

“What does she do all day when you’re in school or at the hospital?”

“Reads. Watches TV. Oh, and she puts together scrapbooks. She used to work in an office, but not anymore.” She used to do a lot of other things, but the MS had slowly robbed her of her motor skills.

“Doesn’t seem very time-consuming,” he observed.

“It is for someone with MS,” she said testily.

The microwave went off and Kathleen jerked out the bag of popcorn, then dropped it as hot steam from one end of the bag burned her. “Ouch!” She put her stinging finger into her mouth.

He stooped and picked up the bag, put it on the counter, then pulled her close and held her. She struggled for a moment but stopped when he stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry,” he said, without clarifying what he was sorry about.

“You’re not feeling sorry for me, are you? Because I don’t feel sorry for me and neither should you.”

He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “How can I feel sorry for anyone who defends herself like a cornered cat?”

“So now I’m a hissing cat?”

“I’d better shut up before I dig myself into a deeper hole.” He kissed her mouth. “Show me your room,” he said in her ear.

“Why?”

“I want to see Kathleen’s lair.”

Her heart began to hammer. Her room was on the opposite side of the house from her mother’s. An intercom connected the two rooms in case Mary Ellen needed her in the night. “It’s just a room. And messy too.”

“I don’t care how messy. I want to see your space so that I can picture you when I close my eyes at night.”

She took him into her bedroom. “I’m going to repaint it,” she said once he’d closed the door behind them.

“What color?”

“Lime green, I think.”

He went to her bed, and she was glad that she’d taken the time to make it that morning. He picked up her pillow and smoothed it with his hand. She experienced a fluttery feeling in her stomach because there was something intimate and sexy about his stroking her pillow. She imagined that he was touching her. “What do you think?” she asked.

He pressed her pillow to his face, inhaling. “About what?”

“The color, lime green. For the walls.”

“I think you could choose any color and it would be perfect. You shouldn’t be afraid to experiment, you know. It might be fun.”

His eyes looked smoky and dark. She’d never had a boy look at her like that before and she found it exciting, a little bit dangerous. She said, “You make it sound frivolous, like it doesn’t matter.”

“It should always matter.”

She wondered if they really were talking about paint colors anymore. “What if…I…don’t like it?”

“Repaint.”

“Seems like a lot of extra work. I’d like to get it right the first time.” She said it like a confession and felt the familiar color creep across her face. She had told him something very personal about herself, unsure whether he would catch on.

“The first time,” he repeated. A flash of understanding crossed his face. “Yes. It should be right the first time.”

They stared at each other, only inches apart. She felt vulnerable and exposed, scared too. Without saying the words, he had told her that he wanted to take her to bed. And she had told him she had not had sex before and that she wanted to wait until the time was right.

He placed her pillow back on the bed. “I have an idea. Let’s pick out a bunch of colors and paint a swatch of each one on the wall. Then
we’ll decide which one you like the best. It’s the only way to choose, you know. To see all the colors next to each other.”

He was telling her he wouldn’t push her, that he would wait for her to decide what she wanted to have happen between them. “That will take some patience,” she said.

“Patience is a good thing when you want to get it just right,” he said.

She nodded and slipped into his arms and they stood that way, locked in an embrace, for a long, long time.

sixteen

K
ATHLEEN WAITED UNTIL
she, Raina and Holly were alone in the elevator moving toward the volunteer assignment room before she casually mentioned that Carson had brought over pizza and movies the night before.

“Is that why that slap-happy look is all over your face?” Raina asked.

“Could be.”

“And we rode all the way here talking about my boring life because you didn’t see fit to mention this in the car?” Holly asked.

“Well, I didn’t want to monopolize the conversation.”

Holly looked at Raina, who poked Kathleen in the shoulder forcefully with her forefinger. “Something happened between you two, didn’t it?”

Kathleen stepped out of the elevator and into the hallway leading to the volunteer room. “Could be.”

The others immediately flanked her. “Spill it,” Raina said.

“My mother had dinner with us, but after she went to bed, he asked to see my bedroom. I let him check it out.”

“The two of you were alone in your bedroom?” Holly’s eyes were saucer-wide. “What happened? Details. I want details.”

“We talked,” Kathleen said with an innocent smile.

“That’s it?” Raina asked.

Holly hissed in exasperation. “Don’t you know I live through you vicariously? I look to your life to be exciting, because mine sure isn’t.” She threw Raina a glance. “And who wants to hear about her escapades with my
brother
—ugh!”

“We just talked,” Kathleen said. They had entered the volunteer room and she picked up a pencil and scribbled her name on the sign-up sheet. “Back down to Administration,” she said, reading her day’s assignment.

“What did you talk about?” Impatience brimmed in Raina’s voice. “Do we have to pry every word out of you?”

Kathleen backed out of the doorway. “Paint chips.” She grinned, then turned and jogged quickly toward the elevator.

“Paint chips?” Raina and Holly said in unison, looking at each other.

“What’s that mean?” Holly asked.

“I think she’s been
sniffing
paint,” Raina said crossly while scribbling her name on the sign-up sheet. “She’s doing this deliberately, you know. Keeping us in suspense all day long.”

“Oh, let her keep her little secret another few hours. She’ll come clean when she’s ready,” Holly said. “I’m on Pediatrics today. How about you?”

“They’ve put me in the medical library.” Raina sighed. “Bor-r-r-ring.”

Holly offered a sympathetic expression and hurried off to the pediatric floor. She would get the whole story out of Kathleen on the ride home today if she had to sit on her. She arrived in Pediatrics in time for the morning art program, but before she could get started helping to take children into the playroom, Mrs. Graham signaled her into her office. “Yes, ma’am?” Holly said once she’d stepped through the doorway.

The director went behind her desk and began shuffling papers. “Connie wants you over in the cancer wing. It’s about Ben.”

Holly’s heart skipped a beat. Ben wasn’t scheduled for a treatment that day. “What’s wrong?”

Mrs. Graham looked startled. “Oh, gracious, I didn’t mean to scare you. Ben’s just fine. But his mother is visiting. And she very much wants to meet you.”

*  *  *

Beth-Ann Keller was small, and though obviously pregnant, thin with light brown hair pulled into a long ponytail and eyes the same pretty blue as Ben’s. She wore a skirt and a blouse that looked long out of fashion, and sat in a wheelchair. Holly introduced herself, and Beth-Ann smiled shyly. “I’ve been wishing to meet you,” she said with a Southern accent. “You’re all Ben talks about. Says he’s your boyfriend.”

Holly grinned self-consciously. “Ben’s a doll, and I really like him, Mrs. Keller. The boyfriend thing is kind of a joke between us.”

“Except for doctors and such, everybody calls me Beth-Ann, so you do too, all right?” She patted her abdomen. “I had to come in for a checkup today and of course to see my little Ben.”

“Is everything all right?” Holly realized it was none of her business and that she shouldn’t have asked, but Beth-Ann nodded.

“I’m still on bed rest, but the new baby’s growing real good. He’s just having a little trouble staying put. Wants to come out and get acquainted before it’s time to. I wanted to say hi and thank you for taking such good care of Ben. It’s real hard leaving him to go through this by himself.”

“I’m glad to do it. Like I said, Ben’s a sweetie.”

“When they told us Ben would have to come back here, I just sat down and cried my heart out.
I knew I couldn’t stay with him like the last time…what with the new baby and all. It’s hard enough for my little Ben to have to go through all that chemo, but to do it alone, without his mama with him…well, that was more than his daddy and I could stand.”

Watching Beth-Ann’s face, feeling her desire to be with her son, Holly felt a lump rise into her throat. “He’s been through a lot, but he’s very good about it. Hardly ever cries. I go with him for every treatment. I don’t want him to be alone either.”

“I know. You see, I prayed real hard to the Lord Jesus that he would send my Ben a special angel to watch over him. And he did.” Her smile glowed and Holly felt her face redden.

“I’m no angel,” she said.

“All angels don’t have wings and sit around the throne of heaven,” Beth-Ann said with a practical shake of her head. “Some angels walk around right here on earth and help others. So you’re an angel to Ben’s daddy and me. To my mama too. She came down from Alabama to help out and to take care of me so I can stay in bed mostly. We all think right highly of you.”

Beth-Ann’s lavish praise was embarrassing Holly. “I do it for Ben.”

“He likes the books you read to him, the stories and all. He don’t have many books at home. He’s a smart little boy. Oh, just so you’ll know, I
talked with his doctor a while ago and he says that Ben’s responding real nicely to the chemo. He’s thinking he might be able to send him back home next month.”

“Really? That’s great news! I’m so glad you told me. I’ll have to go back to school at the end of August.”

Beth-Ann looked anxious. “You quitting?”

“No way. I’ll still be in the volunteer program, I just don’t know my new hours yet.”

“Then I’m just going to pray to the good Lord that Ben will be well enough to come home before you go back to school. That way, neither one of you will feel like you’re letting the other one down.”

Holly found Beth-Ann’s simple solution heartwarming. Faith like hers put Holly to shame, and she promised herself that she’d pray harder for Ben.

Just then, a heavyset woman came into the waiting room. Beth-Ann called, “Mama, come meet Holly. She’s the one Ben keeps talking about.”

After another round of introductions, Holly said she had to get back to work. Beth-Ann’s mother said that the courtesy van was waiting out front for the two-hour trip back to their home in Crystal River and they should be going. Beth-Ann pushed herself up. “I have to go kiss my boy goodbye.” Her eyes filled.

Knowing Ben would be saddened by his mother’s leaving, Holly said, “Tell him I’ll come by and eat lunch with him. And that I’ll bring him a big piece of chocolate cake.”

“That boy loves chocolate cake,” Beth-Ann’s mother said.

“Will you be able to come back soon?” Holly asked.

“My doctor wants to see me in three weeks, but getting a ride is hard. Just happened to hear that the van was coming today, or we’d have had to take a cab.”

“That’s a costly two-hour ride,” Ben’s grandmother said.

Holly’s heart went out to them.

“Thank you again for watching out for Ben.”

“I have to,” Holly called as they started out the door. “He’s my only boyfriend.”

On the ride home, Kathleen told her friends her bedroom story about Carson. Since she didn’t think she’d be able to convey the underlying message about sex, she decided to leave it out and only emphasize the part about repainting her walls.

“So now he’s your decorator?” Raina asked.

“No, but I thought it was the safest thing to talk about alone with him in my bedroom.”

“What did you decide?” Holly asked.

“I’m thinking lime green.”

Holly launched into a description of her meeting with Ben’s mother, and Kathleen felt relieved. She truly hadn’t wanted a grilling about Carson and didn’t want input from either Holly or Raina about being cautious before kicking it up to the next level.
If there is a next level
, she reminded herself. With less than a month to go before school started and with the two of them attending different schools, she had no way of knowing whether Carson would remain interested in her. Especially when Stephanie attended Bryce Academy, same as Carson.

Kathleen arrived home to find Mary Ellen feeling depressed and weepy. Remembering how much her mother had enjoyed the meal with Carson, she asked, “Why don’t we go out for dinner tonight, Mom? Nothing fancy.”

“I’m tired. I don’t feel like it.”

Kathleen felt the weight of her mother’s depression closing in on her, dispelling her happier mood. “You know, Mom, you might feel better if you got out more. Your doctor wants you to check out the MS support group. I’ll be glad to take you sometime. You might like it.”

“Please don’t tell me what I need. I feel lousy and I’m in no mood for a lecture.”

Kathleen’s feelings were hurt. “I didn’t mean to lecture you. It’s just that you seemed to have a good time the other night when Carson came over. I just thought—”

“Stop.” Mary Ellen looked on the verge of tears. “I—I can’t take this right now. I know you mean well, but you have no idea how difficult it is for me to just get up every day.”

“I work in a hospital, remember? I see people checking in a whole lot worse off than you are,” Kathleen said, feeling her temper rise. “I know you have problems, but sometimes it just doesn’t seem like you’re interested in helping yourself.”

Mary Ellen’s face crumpled. “I don’t need this, Kathleen. I really don’t.”

Kathleen watched her mother back up her chair and start toward the living-room door. It infuriated her when her mother wouldn’t talk to her. Lately, it seemed that every time she challenged her, Mary Ellen ran away. “Why can’t we ever talk? Why can’t you try to change things for yourself? Maybe you feel bad all the time because you don’t do anything anymore.” Kathleen yelled after her but she was talking to empty space now because her mother had fled. Kathleen was furious. How could Mary Ellen have reduced her into a screaming shrew so quickly? That wasn’t the way she wanted to be. Not when just minutes before, she’d been so happy. She went to her room, slammed the door and was looking for something to throw when her cell phone rang. She dumped her purse on the bed, found her phone and saw Carson’s number.

“Hi,” she said, with forced cheerfulness.

“Hi yourself. You sound out of breath.”

“Just rushing around my room. What’s up?”

“The grand duke and duchess of the Kiefer manor have requested an audience with the two of us.”

“Who? What are you talking about?”

He blew out a deep breath. “My parents want you to come to the house for dinner next Saturday night. And they won’t take no for an answer.”

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