I Want to Live Page 2

  Dawn picked a bit of lint off the knee of her jeans. “Kids aren’t dumb, you know. After all, it’s my disease. I have a right to know what they’re going to do to me.”

  “That’s one of the reasons I want to take you to the clinic. It’s about time I knew more, too. We’re family, Dawn, and I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever known.”

  Tears collected in her eyes, but she refused to let him know. Playfully, Dawn balled up her fist and punched him in the arm. “You’re nothing but a big, old teddy bear. How’d you get the reputation of being a big, mean football star?”

  “I have a good agent,” he said, clearing his throat. Together they sat in silence until Dawn’s eyelids began to droop.

  On Wednesday, Rob would take her to the clinic. Let me have a good report, she prayed silently. Please, God, . . . let me have a good report.

  Three

  “Good morning, Dawn. That shade of pink looks terrific on you—even if it is one of our hospital gowns. How’s school? Ready for summer vacation?” The questions came from Leslie Hughes, the animated black-haired nurse in the Oncology Clinic of the Columbus Children’s Hospital. Leslie made notations on Dawn’s chart while a lab technician drew vials of blood from a needle inserted in her arm.

  “I’m missing a history exam so I could come here today, but my teacher said I could make it up later.”

  “Who’s that gorgeous man waiting for you in the reception area?”

  Dawn flashed Leslie a wide smile. She scarcely noted the blood draining into the technician’s syringes through the plastic tubing of her Heparin lock. The device had been inserted earlier into the vein of her arm to allow them to take blood and administer drugs without repeatedly sticking her with needles throughout the day.

  “That’s Rob, my brother. He’s home on spring break. He plays football for Michigan State. He’s cute, huh?”

  Leslie rolled her eyes. “I’ll bet the girls stand in line to date him.”

  “Well, someone in the family had to get good looks.” Dawn smoothed a wrinkle from the tape holding the tube in place on her skin.

  “Dawn Rochelle! You’re as cute as a button. Aren’t you driving guys off with a stick?”

  Guys don’t fall all over girls with cancer, Mrs. Hughes, Dawn thought. “Ugh! Who’s got time for boys?” she said, wrinkling her nose.

  Leslie wrote more information on Dawn’s report, flipped shut the silver cover of the clipboard, and stood. “You will someday, Dawn, dear. Now let’s go down the hall for your lumbar puncture.”

  Dawn followed Leslie, her palms sweating. She hated the spinal tap most of all. The resident doctor who did the procedure was very gentle, but it still always hurt. And afterward, she got the worst headache—even if she lay perfectly flat for thirty minutes as the doctor recommended.

  “Hi, Dawn. How are we doing today?” the resident greeted her warmly and helped her up to sit on the stainless steel work table.

  “Hi, yourself.” She hunched over while he parted the hospital gown and tapped along her backbone.

  “Would you like to lie down or sit up?”

  “I’d rather lie down.” She curled up into a tight ball, grasping her knees firmly to her chest.

  “You know I’ll do my best not to hurt you.”

  “I know.”

  Leslie helped hold her in position because it was crucial that she remain absolutely still during the process. Dawn felt the cool spray of a local skin anesthetic on her warm flesh. She shivered. She sensed, rather than felt, the needle slide through her lower back, between her bony vertebrae and into the fluid space of her spinal column. She felt pressure, then pain. Dawn squeezed her eyes shut, using the technique of imagining they’d taught her in the early days of her first hospital admission.

  She pictured herself walking through fields of softly blowing wildflowers. She imagined summer scents of gardenia and jasmine and breezes fluttering on her skin. In the center of the field, someone waited for her. Someone tall with deep brown eyes. Was it Jake Macka? Dawn’s eyes flew open. Her fantasy was replaced by the reality of the clinic walls. Stupid choice, she said to herself.

  “We’re all finished.” Dawn heard the resident say as she felt Leslie relax her grip. Slowly, she uncurled and rolled onto her back. Lie still, she told her body. If I lie perfectly still, maybe I won’t get a headache this time.

  Leslie leaned over and patted her face. “You handled that beautifully, Dawn. Why don’t you lie here for a while, and then I’ll come back and we’ll set up your chemo IVs?”

  “Sure.” Dawn said and closed her eyes.

  She did not have a headache when Leslie walked her down the hall to the chemo room after lunch. The room was painted a tranquil pale blue. It contained several cushioned chairs that looked like dental chairs. Beside each chair stood a metal IV stand.

  Dawn settled into a chair. Leslie flipped the plastic bag containing Dawn’s prescribed dose of medications onto a hook at the top of the stand. She inserted a needle into the bag and another into Dawn’s Heparin lock device. Then she adjusted the flow of the drip with a special clamp along the tubing. “That looks about right. Comfy?”

  Dawn watched as the cancer-fighting chemicals slowly dripped down the tube toward her vein. “Is Rob doing all right in the waiting area?”

  “I checked on him earlier and sent him out to have lunch. Want me to have him come back and visit with you?”

  “No,” Dawn said quickly. Even though he had offered to be a part of her treatment, she didn’t want him to see her all hooked up to tubes and needles.

  “Joan Clark passed by earlier and asked if you were planning on going back to camp this summer.”

  “Absolutely,” Dawn said, remembering the play therapist who’d talked her into attending camp the previous summer. “I had the best time of my life at that camp. And met some great kids there.”

  Leslie’s brow puckered, “I’m told some good-looking boys attend. Is there someone special you’re anxious to see?”

  Dawn felt her cheeks grow warm. She remembered Greg and his kiss by the lake. Her first kiss. Her only kiss. “Don’t be silly. I just want to have a good time, that’s all.” Camp had been the only “fun” thing her disease had brought her. Besides, she had to return. Hadn’t Sandy trusted her ashes from the bonfire to Dawn? If Dawn didn’t take them back, who would?

  Leslie handed her a magazine and glanced at her wristwatch. “I’d love to dig the details out of you, Miss Rochelle, but duty calls.” Dawn watched her scurry away to other patients, and she sighed. Two hours, she thought grudgingly. Two hours of sitting and thinking while the medicines seeped into her blood. She hoped Rob wasn’t going crazy in the waiting room.

  Dawn thought about Darcy. She remembered her from a photograph—a pretty girl with cascades of thick, blond hair. “I hope you appreciate my brother,” she whispered to herself. “I hope you know how lucky you are to get a guy like him.” The chemicals dripped steadily through the tube. Dawn closed her eyes and imagined that the chemicals were prowling her blood like secret police, finding and destroying any cancer cells that might be lurking in her body.

  When the long day was over, Rob walked her to the car, chatting about a little boy who dropped an ice cream cone on his sneakers. As they drove, Dawn leaned against the seat, half-listening. She felt shaky. Let me make it home, she begged silently. But she had to tell Rob to stop the car along the side of the road, where she leaned out the open door and gagged and heaved. Rob held her hand and said soothing words. He rubbed her neck and smoothed her forehead until the vomiting stopped enough to go the rest of the way home.

  Rob carried her up the stairs and tucked her under her covers. Then he put a cool cloth on her forehead. “Are you going to be all right?” he asked.

  “Of course.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Thanks, Rob. Thanks for everything.”

  “I didn’t do anything but sit and wait, Squirt. I’d give anything if I could do more. Anything.”

  D
awn attempted a smile. “Please don’t share all the details with Darcy. No use scaring her off.”

  He stroked her cheek and said, “You couldn’t scare anybody off. And Darcy’s pretty tough to put up with someone like me. Now stop your chattering and go to sleep.”

  “I’ll be better in the morning, Rob. I promise.”

  He paused at her bedroom door and asked, “I know this is a silly question, but would you like that teddy bear of yours? The scruffy-looking one—Mr. Ruggers?”

  “I’m too old for teddy bears.”

  It was a long time before she heard Rob answer. His voice was so soft she almost didn’t make out his words. He said, “You’re never too old for teddy bears, Dawn. You’re just too young for cancer.”

  Four

  DAWN dressed in jeans and a bright, flowered shirt. She brushed her auburn hair, glad that it had almost grown back to normal. A light dusting of blush and a dash of pink lip gloss completed her image. For reasons she didn’t understand, she wanted to look her absolute best when she met Darcy Collins.

  It was noon before Darcy’s car coasted into their driveway. Rob bounded down the walk and across the sun-warmed grass to open the car door. Darcy scooted out and sprang into his arms. Dawn watched them hug.

  “Come meet my favorite ‘other woman,’” she heard Rob say.

  Dawn approached shyly and nervously. She felt every bit like a gangling fourteen-year-old kid staring at a fairy princess. Darcy’s hair hung in thick cascades the color of cornsilk. She wore a sky-blue outfit that matched her eyes exactly. Her ivory face was smooth and enhanced by soft, pink highlights. A gold chain nestled at her throat.

  “Hello, Dawn. Rob’s told me so much about you. How pretty you are!” Darcy’s hand was fine-boned and delicate. Dawn touched it gingerly. Beside Rob, Darcy seemed tiny as she snuggled into the hollow of his arm.

  “Nice to meet you, too,” Dawn mumbled.

  Her parents appeared, and another round of introductions occurred. Finally, they went inside the house.

  “It’s so good to finally meet you all. Rob wanted me to come over at Christmas,” Darcy explained in the cozy kitchen as the family sipped tea and nibbled on homemade chocolate chip cookies. “But we were in Aspen skiing.”

  Dawn slipped Rob a sidelong glance. Skiing in Aspen? He winked sheepishly. Dawn remembered Debbie, Rob’s girlfriend through high school. Simple, bubbly, with brown hair, a smattering of freckles and a big, open smile. Girls like Darcy came from a different universe.

  “What’s your area of interest at college?” Mr. Rochelle asked, stirring his tea. Dawn noted that her mom had put out the good china even for the informal get-together.

  “You mean besides me?” Rob quipped. Darcy flashed him a smile, and Dawn saw straight, white, perfectly even teeth. “I’m majoring in communications—television, actually. I’ve always wanted to work on-camera.”

  “As a news anchor?” Mrs. Rochelle asked.

  “Maybe. I’m also studying journalism.”

  “Don’t you think she’d make a great sportscaster?” Rob jumped in. “All the men would tune in just to watch her read the scores.”

  Darcy punched Rob playfully. “I’d like to think they’d tune in because of my ability, not my looks.”

  “With your looks, who needs ability?”

  Everyone but Dawn laughed. She felt left out. And that made her feel guilty.

  Later, when Rob carried Darcy’s things into the den, Dawn started up the stairs. But Darcy stopped her. “Just a minute, Dawn. I have something for you.”

  Hesitantly, Dawn entered the room where Darcy was rummaging through her suitcase. “Now where is that box? Here it is. I hope you like it.” She held out a silver foil-wrapped gift tied with a baby-blue bow.

  Dawn fumbled with the paper. “Thanks. You didn’t have to get me a present.” Inside was a fist-sized teddy bear made of crystal. Dawn cupped it in her palm.

  “Rob said you collected them,” Darcy explained. “I hope you don’t have another like it.”

  Dawn shook her head. Her shelves were full of fluffy, stuffed, inexpensive teddies. “I—I . . . it’s beautiful.” Sunlight shimmered through the chiseled glass, sending rainbows of light around the room.

  “I’m glad you like it.” Darcy smiled quickly and then turned to finish unpacking. “I hope we can get to know each other better and become friends.”

  “Ah—sure. That’s what I’d like, too.” She watched for a few awkward moments while Darcy hung her clothes on hangers.

  “I had no idea what Rob might want to do, so I brought one of everything in my closet. When we go back to my house, my parents have planned this big party. . .” Darcy stopped and blushed. “Oh, I wasn’t supposed to mention that. Would you excuse me, Dawn, before I spill the beans?”

  “Yeah, I was going to lie down for a while anyway.”

  Darcy whirled. “Are you sick?” She looked alarmed.

  “No. Just a routine nap.” Dawn said.

  Darcy let out her breath, and color returned to her cheeks. “Well, I’ll see you at dinner then.”

  “At dinner,” Dawn confirmed, retreating to her room with relief. She set the crystal bear on the table next to her wicker headboard and stared at it. Her thumbprint had smudged its potbelly. Teddy bears were supposed to be soft and cuddly and cute. The crystal one was beautiful, but so lifeless.

  Dawn sighed and curled into a ball on her bed.

  “. . . spill the beans.” Isn’t that what Darcy had said? Spill the beans about what? She wondered.

  * * * * *

  “You landed on Park Place. I own it, and that will cost you one hundred dollars,” Rhonda said, picking up the dice for her turn at the Monopoly game.

  Dawn counted out the money, listening to the March rain against her bedroom window.

  Both girls lay stomach-down on the floor, stretched out on either side of the board. Bottles of root beer and a bowl of popcorn sat beside them.

  “Earth to Dawn. Earth to Dawn. Come in please, Dawn.”

  Dawn startled. “Excuse me?”

  “You seem to be in the twilight zone today. What gives?”

  “Sorry. You’re right. I don’t have my mind on the game.”

  “So what are you thinking about?”

  “Darcy. What do you think of her?”

  Rhonda sat up and rested backward on her elbows. “Well, she’s not ugly.”

  “Thanks for the news flash. We’re having a special dinner for her and Rob tonight. Mom’s doing a rib roast and baked potatoes. She’s even using the good silver and china. Rob bought a centerpiece of red roses, too.”

  “Sounds romantic.”

  “Sounds mysterious.”

  “But isn’t this Darcy’s last night here? Won’t she be going home and taking Rob with her tomorrow?”

  Dawn nodded.

  “So what’s the big deal? Maybe your Mom’s just trying to treat her extra nice. Don’t you like her?”

  Dawn rolled over and planted her elbow on a floor cushion and laid her head against her hand. “It’s not that I don’t like her. It’s just that maybe she’s too perfect for our family. I’ll bet she’s never even had a hangnail!” Now Dawn felt petty. Darcy couldn’t help it that nothing bad had happened to her.

  “It doesn’t seem fair, does it?” Rhonda’s instant understanding surprised Dawn. She looked at Rhonda and wondered why she’d never really thought of her as a good friend before.

  “I sound mean, don’t I?”

  Rhonda shrugged her shoulders. “Some of the girls at school have wondered the same things, Dawn. Why did you get sick? Why not one of us? For that matter, why not me?”

  Dawn blushed, thinking about her friends talking about her. She was embarrassed to think that she’d been the topic of conversation. “I—I wish you all wouldn’t discuss me . . .”

  “It was never in a bad way,” Rhonda added quickly. “Kids feel sorry for you, that’s all. And you can’t help wondering why it had to happen at all.�
� The two sat in silence for a few minutes. “I wish it would all go away for you,” Rhonda said.

  Dawn smiled. “I wish so, too. But I don’t think it’s going to go away.”

  “What do you think’s going to happen?” Rhonda leaned forward. Concern and fear showed in her face.

  Dawn waited for a moment. Then she said, “I think I’m going to stay in remission for five years, grow up, and make a million dollars selling my story to television networks.”

  Rhonda grinned. “Maybe Darcy can play your mother.”

  They both began laughing, rolling around on the floor and scattering the Monopoly game every which way.

  The conversation she and Rhonda had kept running through Dawn’s head, even at the dinner table that night, which she had to admit looked magnificent. The table was draped in her mother’s Irish linen cloth and aglow with tall candles. Rob had dressed in a dark suit, and Darcy wore a silk dress and pearl earrings with matching strands of pearls. Dawn had dressed up, too, but felt dowdy and drab amid the others.

  “I guess you’ve wondered why I asked for tonight to be special, Mom and Dad,” Rob finally said, interrupting Dawn’s thoughts.

  Dawn’s heart thudded.

  Darcy and Rob exchanged glances. Rob took Darcy’s left hand and held it up for all of them to see. A diamond glittered off her third finger. “I’ve asked Darcy to marry me. And she said, ‘Yes’.”

  Five

  FOR a moment no one spoke. Then everybody spoke at once. There was a round of hugs and a babble of questions. Married! Dawn could scarcely absorb it. Rob—her big brother, her only brother—was getting married.

  “What do you think, Squirt?”

  “I—I think it’s great!” Deep down, she meant it. All her funny feelings about Darcy evaporated. “That means I’ll be an aunt.”

  “Whoa, slow down.” Mrs. Rochelle said. “Let’s get them married first.”

  Dawn blushed furiously. What a stupid thing to say! she thought to herself.

  “Have you set a date?” her father asked.