For Better, for Worse, Forever Page 12
Till Death Do Us Part.
0-553-57085-4
On sale now from Bantam Books.
Till Death Do Us Part
by Lurlene McDaniel
Published by
Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc.
1540 Broadway
New York, New York 10036
Copyright © 1997 by Lurlene McDaniel
All rights reserved.
An excerpt from Till Death Do Us Part by Lurlene McDaniel:
“That guy’s staring at you again, April.”
April Lancaster didn’t need Kelli to tell her that the boy on the far side of the hospital’s patient rec room was looking at her. She could almost feel his gaze. She had been in the hospital for two days and he’d been stealing glances at her every time she ventured out of her room. “Ignore him,” April whispered to Kelli. “I do.”
“But why? He’s cute. Even if he is too skinny for my taste.”
“This isn’t a social club, Kelli. It’s a hospital. I didn’t come here to meet guys.”
“Well, I say why let a good opportunity slip away?”
April shook her head. “You’re impossible.”
Her best friend grinned. “I’m only trying to cheer you up. Take your mind off this whole thing. And if you meet a cute guy in the bargain, then what’s the harm?”
April pointedly twisted in the lounge chair so that her back was to the boy. She didn’t want to be stared at, and she certainly didn’t want to meet some guy who was sick. She figured he had to be sick; why else would he be a patient in this huge New York City medical complex?
Kelli interrupted her thoughts. “What is going on with you? Medically, I mean. When can you leave?”
The last thing April wanted to do was dwell on the frightening possibilities as to why she was in the hospital. “I’m only here for testing,” she said. “I’m sure I’ll be out by the end of the week.”
“But by then spring break will be over. We leave tomorrow, and the weatherman said an inch of fresh powder is falling in Vermont as we speak. This might be the last chance for a ski trip this year.”
April and her friends had been planning the trip for weeks. It was supposed to be part of her birthday present. And since it was their senior year, it would be their final spring break together as a group. “I can’t help it,” she said gloomily. “Even if my doctor releases me earlier, my parents wouldn’t let me go.”
“Why not?”
April didn’t want to say. Not while there was so much speculation about the origins of her numbing headaches. The headaches had built in intensity for the past several months, causing her to get dizzy, even sick to her stomach. When she’d passed out from the pain in school two days earlier, her parents had hustled her out of their Long Island community and into a hospital in the city. The headaches could still be nothing.
Or they could be the other thing. The “thing” she had decided not to discuss with Kelli. “Oh, you know my parents. They fall to pieces if I have a hangnail. Besides, Dad won’t let me drive from New York to Vermont by myself.”
Kelli chewed her bottom lip. “I could wait till you’re released. Then you and I could drive up together.”
“No way.” April shook her head. “Kelli, I appreciate it, but you go on with the others.”
Kelli slumped in her chair, crossed her arms, and pouted. “It won’t be the same without you there. This is our last spring break together.”
April sighed, feeling disappointed too. “Maybe we can do something together our first spring break from college next year.”
“Fat chance. We’ll all be scattered to the ends of the earth.”
“I’m sorry,” April said softly, her eyes filling with tears.
Kelli scooted forward and seized April’s hands. “Don’t cry. I’m such a jerk for making you feel worse than you already do. Tell you what, we’ll go to the shore this summer when all this is behind you. You’ve always liked the beach better than the ski slopes anyway. I’ll talk to the others while we’re away and devise a plan. What do you say?”
“Okay. Maybe we can go right after graduation, before we have to pack up for college.” April did love the beach, the rolling ocean waves, the warm sand and bright sun. “Thanks for thinking of it, Kelli. You’re a real friend.”
Kelli beamed her a smile. “We’ll call you from the ski lodge.”
April nodded. “Don’t break a leg.”
Suddenly a male voice burst upon the two girls in the lounge. “There you are, April.”
April looked up to see Chris Albright, the senior captain of their high-school soccer team. They’d been dating for a few months, ever since Christmas, but she hadn’t expected him to pop into the hospital the day before spring break. She was glad she’d taken the time to put on her sweats and wasn’t wearing a hospital gown.
“I couldn’t find you in your room,” Chris continued. “One of the nurses told me to check in here. You feeling better?”
Chris had caught her when she’d fainted in English class. Literally.
“Nothing to report,” she said. He straddled the arm of her chair and took her hand in his. From the corner of her eye, April saw the patient who’d been ogling her lean forward. She turned her full attention to Chris. “I didn’t think I’d see you until after the break.”
“I can’t go off and leave my girlfriend holed up in the hospital.”
Kelli, who was out of Chris’s line of vision, did an exaggerated swoon that made April giggle. Chris was the catch of their school. April was nuts about him, but she tried not to show it. Clingy girlfriends were a turnoff.
“What’s so funny?” Chris asked.
“Nothing. I’m just glad to see you.” She laced her fingers through his.
“What’s up, Kelli?” Chris asked.
“I came to say goodbye too,” Kelli told him. “Actually I was trying to persuade April to sneak away with me and leave her doctor a note about coming back after spring break.”
“Makes sense to me,” Chris said. “Have they told you anything yet?”
April told Chris what she’d told Kelli. Once again she omitted the information that she didn’t want anyone to know. The headaches can’t be related, she told herself. “So, I guess I’m stuck here until they complete all the tests,” she finished aloud.
“What kind of doctor have you got?” Chris wanted to know.
“A neurologist.” She leaned forward. “Personally, I think all this is a ploy to find out if I really have a brain.”
Kelli rolled her eyes and Chris scoffed. “Right,” he said. “You’re on the dean’s list every reporting period. I don’t think brain loss is your problem.”
They all laughed and April felt better. More than anything she wanted to be out of the hospital and back in the familiar world of school and friends and graduation plans. Graduation was only nine weeks away. Stupid headaches!
“Listen, I’d better run,” Kelli said, standing. “I want to catch the train before rush hour.”
“Thanks for visiting.” April longed to be leaving with her friend.
“I’ll call you.” Kelli bent and hugged her goodbye. She whispered in April’s ear, “I know three’s a crowd,” and darted out the door.
Chris eased into Kelli’s vacated chair. “I miss you, April.”
“I miss you too.”
“You scared everybody when you blacked out in class.”
“Did I ever thank you for catching me before I hit the floor?”
He glanced self-consciously around the room. “Is there any place less public than here?”
“My room.”
“Let’s go.” He helped her to her feet.
The room spun and she clung to him. “It takes me a minute to get my balance whenever I change positions.”
He looked concerned and put his arm around her waist. As they walked back to her room, April felt the gaze of the guy on the far side of the lounge area following them. She snuggled closer to Chris
.
Once in the privacy of her room, Chris took her in his arms and kissed her. “I hate to leave you for a whole week.” The soccer team was playing a tournament in Pennsylvania over the break.
“Go have a good time. But not too good a time.”
He stayed for another hour before he kissed her goodbye.
Alone, she felt the gloom return. It would be another couple of hours before her parents would arrive. Stop acting like a baby, she told herself. This isn’t like before. You’re seventeen now, not five.
She was sitting up in her bed clicking through the TV channels with the remote control when someone rapped on her door. “Come in,” she called.
The door slowly opened, and the boy from the rec room stood there. “Hi,” he said with a sunny grin.
“Do I know you?” she asked.
“Mark Gianni.” He held out his hand.
She took it cautiously. His grip was warm, his palm rough. He was tall and had curling dark brown hair and intense deep brown eyes. But Kelli had been right. He was thin, almost gaunt. “And you’re here because …?” She allowed the sentence to trail.
“Because I want you to know that you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. And I thought I should introduce myself. I mean, we should get to know each other. Since you’re the girl I intend to marry.”