A Time to Die (11 page)

“Are you all right?” Vince asked.

“I thought you weren’t going to ask me that every five minutes,” she countered.

“I’m not.”

“Then stop it right now.”

“Sorry.”

She felt bad about snapping at him, but he was beginning to sound like her parents. “Are
you
all right?”

Vince took her hand. “I’ve never been better. The monster sleeps.”

Lucky
, she thought. Eric jogged up beside them.
“Let’s get our tickets. Do you want to see a comedy, horror, or what?”

Kara hesitated. “Listen, I don’t really feel like sitting through a movie—any movie at all.”

“Are you sick?” Vince asked, looking anxious.

“I can get the car,” Eric added.

In exasperation, Kara put her hands on her hips and glared at Vince and Eric. “Now, listen, I’m not a breakable doll. I’ve been sick, but Dr. McGee wouldn’t have let me out if he didn’t think I could handle it. I don’t need the two of you fussing over me.”

“I think we’re in trouble,” Eric said to Vince.

“She looks so small and defenseless, too,” Vince replied.

“Like a pit bull,” Eric said.

Kara flashed a sheepish grin. “Okay. I know you mean well. But this is my first day of freedom in a month. I’ve changed my mind, and I really don’t want to be sitting in a dark theater.”

“So what do you want to do?” Vince asked.

“I’d like to go to the food court and get ice cream with gobs of fudge sauce.”

“She’s hungry?” Eric asked Vince.

“Don’t knock it,” Vince insisted.

Kara wasn’t really hungry, but she wanted to be with Vince and Eric and share time talking with them. She wasn’t sure if she’d tell them about her anonymous letter, but she needed to talk. They went to the center of the mall and found a table. Kara waited while Vince and Eric bought ice cream concoctions and brought them to her. She
scooped up a mouthful of the fudge sauce and smiled at both boys, who were watching her. “It’s delicious,” she said. Maybe her appetite would return faster than it had in the past following hospitalizations.

Christmas music played in the background, and twinkle lights hung on trees and bushes in the planters. “The Christmas season starts earlier every year,” Vince said between bites of his banana split. “But I never do my shopping until Christmas Eve, anyway.”

“I usually wait until the day after,” Eric kidded. “It’s cheaper.”

Kara shook her head at them. “What Scrooges you both are. Christmas is fabulous. I love Christmas trees and presents and all the trimmings. What’s Santa going to bring you guys this year?”

“I don’t want much of anything,” Vince said. “Maybe some compact discs and a new sweater or two.”

“Speak for yourself,” Eric interrupted. “I want Santa to help me get my car painted. A paint job—a good one—costs a mint.”

“Boy, you two think small,” Kara chided. “I want a trip around the world, expensive jewelry, a new wardrobe, and a night out dancing I’ll never forget.”

Eric tipped back in his chair. “As long as we’re talking fantasyland, then I want my own car dealership so I can sell Ferraris, Lamborghinis, and restored classics.”

“Boring,” Vince said with a wave of his hand. “That’s hard work. I’d like to star in the next Arnold Schwarzenegger film.” When Eric and Kara laughed, he added, “Okay, I’ll settle for directing his next film.” Vince paused. “What the heck, I’d like to
be
Arnold.”

By now, Kara and Eric were laughing hard. “Not even Santa can bring that to pass.”

Vince stood. “You don’t think Santa can do this? Come on. He’s right over there. Let’s go ask him.” Vince pointed across the mall to the area where long lines of children were waiting to meet Santa.

“Good idea,” Kara said, starting toward the end of the line.

Eric and Vince dogged after her. They stood in line, despite the stares of small children, and when they reached Santa, who was perched on a painted gold throne, they had their pictures taken with him.

Vince glanced at his watch. “Only an hour left of freedom, Kara. Where to now?”

Kara didn’t want to think about returning to the hospital, even though she was tired and short of breath. She wished the afternoon could go on forever. She wanted to tell everyone who passed them, “I’m so happy! Isn’t life wonderful?” She’d decided against telling Vince and Eric about the letter she’d received, but she had an idea now that pleased her.

On the way back to the car, they passed a video
arcade and decided to stop. They played three-way games of Laser Tag, and when Kara grew tired, she sat and watched Vince and Eric pile up points, vying for top score.

They’d just finished playing every game in the arcade, when Eric noticed a machine that required a player to try to lift a toy with a robot hand and drop it into a slot for retrieval. “Think I can do it in three tries?” he asked.

“I never could,” Vince admitted. “I’m telling you, it eats quarters like candy.”

Eric eyed the large glass case, jammed with toys. “How hard can it be? Which one do you want, Kara?”

She studied the jumble of stuffed toys and pointed to a red satin heart-shaped pillow trimmed in white lace. “That looks pretty tacky, but I love it. Can you get it for me?”

Vince lent Eric a quarter, and when the machine hummed to life, Eric artfully maneuvered the robot hand directly over the pillow, lowered it carefully, and made a grab for it. He missed. Kara groaned. “Have faith,” Eric muttered, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“No way he can do it on a single quarter,” said a boy who had come over to watch.

Kara crossed her fingers, and Eric lowered the arm and squeezed the robot tongs via the remote control again.

“Two strikes,” another boy said when he missed the second time.

“Last try,” Vince warned. “Come on, man, you can do it.”

Eric carefully repositioned the arm, lowered it one final time, and snagged the edge of the lace. The kids gasped as he ever so slowly inched it over to the retrieval slot. The pillow dangled, hung by a thread, then fell neatly into the hole. The audience cheered as Eric scooped it out, raised his arms like a victorious prizefighter, then presented it to Kara with a flourish.

She laughed and cuddled the satin prize to her cheek. “It’s perfect,” she told him.

He grabbed her, lifted her off the floor, and whirled her around. From the corner of her eyes, she caught Vince’s face, his smile looking tight. When Eric put her down, she went over and put her arms around him. “Your quarter made it possible.”

Ten minutes later, they started back to the hospital. The rain had stopped, and puddles reflected sunlight from the late afternoon sky as they crossed from the parking lot to the hospital entrance. Back in her room, Kara turned to Eric and Vince. “It was a perfect day. Thank you.”

Once they left, a sense of melancholy stole over her. More than anything, she longed to go with them. She wanted out of the hospital. She wanted to spend Thanksgiving at home. She wanted so many things. An hour before, she’d been on top of the world, and now she felt in the depths of depression.

She thought about the One Last Wish money,
hidden in her drawer. “Soon,” she promised herself. She’d tell her parents, because now she had a plan. She held the small satin heart against her face while tears of loneliness slid slowly down her cheeks.

K
ARA AWOKE TO
the aroma of roasting turkey. She stretched, luxuriating in the feel of her own bed, the surroundings of her own room. She was glad to be home, even if she couldn’t stay long. Dr. McGee had released her for the holiday, but had asked that she return on Monday.

“But why?” She’d felt dismayed. “I thought I was better.”

“We’ve licked this infection, but we’ve discovered another problem. I’ve already been over it with your parents. I told them I would explain it to you.”

Kara swallowed hard. Her father had come to sign her out and take her home. “Tell me,” Kara told Dr. McGee.

“The last round of X rays showed that the right
side of your heart is enlarged. It’s a condition called cor pulmonale. Lung damage from the CF means less oxygen is getting into your blood. That’s making your heart work harder and increasing your blood pressure.”

“My heart—that sounds serious.”

“It is,” Dr. McGee admitted frankly. “I’ve asked a cardiologist to consult on your case.”

Kara looked around her bedroom and shoved the conversation out of her mind. She concentrated on the aromas of turkey and pumpkin pie. A tightness constricted her chest, and she wondered if she’d ever wake up and not feel she needed air the way a person dying of thirst craves water.

Elyse and her family were away for the weekend, but Vince checked in with an early call. “I want to come see you, but Mom’s being a pain,” he told Kara. “She won’t let any of us go anywhere. I think it’s some crazy thing she has about us all being together on holidays. She acts as if each holiday’s our last one.”

“No problem,” Kara told him, understanding perfectly his mother’s fears. Her mother treated holidays in the same way. Family time was everything. “Come over sometime this weekend.”

Kara had thought about inviting Christy and Eric to join them, but before she could, Christy had confided, “I promised I’d work for a fellow therapist who wants to take a long weekend. I don’t have to check in till four, so I’m fixing turkey with all the trimmings. You know, Eric and I
haven’t had Thanksgiving together in three years, and I hope we’ll be able to talk. Besides, if I cook, I’ll have leftovers. Believe me, my kid brother can eat!” Christy had added with a laugh.

Kara and her parents ate their Thanksgiving meal early in the day. Her mother had fixed enough food to feed half the city’s homeless. Kara felt sorry that she could only nibble, but she’d been on liquid supplements and intravenous fluids so long that even small quantities of solid food—as tasty as her mother’s cooking was—filled her up. She spent the rest of the day curled up on the sofa watching football games on TV with her dad while her mother sat beside her, sewing a needlepoint cushion.

That night, as her mother finished administering her thumps, Kara climbed into bed and kissed her mother on the cheek. “This was a perfect Thanksgiving. I hope we have more just like it.”

“You sound rather sentimental,” her mother said as she sat down on the bed. “Not that I mind,” she added hastily, “but it’s not like you.”

“I’m glad to be home. I’m glad you and Dad are my parents. I was thinking that maybe I didn’t tell you often enough how much you mean to me.” She wanted to confide in her mother about the One Last Wish letter, but the timing didn’t seem right. Besides, Kara felt tired, not up to a long discussion about it.

Her mother stroked Kara’s hair. “I’m glad you’re our daughter.”

“Are you sorry you didn’t have more children?”

“Yes, sometimes, but Dad and I made the right choice for us.”

Kara realized why she had been an only child. CF was passed to children by two parents who were both carriers of a special recessive gene. While neither parent had the disease, they could pass it on to their children. Her parents always faced the risk of having other CF children, and she understood why they never took the chance.

Kara gazed thoughtfully at her mother. “I would love to have a baby one day. Wouldn’t you like grandkids, Mom?”

“No time soon,” her mother said with a laugh. “You have plenty of time to get married and have kids. Don’t rush it.”

Kara wanted to believe her. She looked into her mother’s eyes and saw sadness. Both of them knew the medical odds facing Kara’s future. “Don’t worry. I haven’t even got a steady boyfriend,” Kara said quickly, not wanting to see her mother depressed. “Maybe I never will.” Kara considered bringing up the incredible news of the letter she received, but found herself holding back.

“Vince likes you.”

“I like Vince, but not in that way.”

“You’ll find someone special,” her mother assured her. “It takes time.”

Time
, Kara thought. Everything always comes back to having more time.

    When the doorbell rang Friday morning Kara was surprised, then thrilled. Eric dropped by unexpectedly.
He met her parents, and after a few minutes of fidgeting while they chatted, he took a deep breath and asked, “Could Kara and I do something together? Christy took more overtime at the hospital. I don’t want to spend the day alone.”

More than anything, Kara wanted to be with Eric. “I’d love to go,” she said quickly. Her mother was hesitant, but her father flashed a “leave her be” look. Kara left with a promise to be home at a reasonable hour. One of them would have to get up to administer her thumps, but Eric didn’t need to know about that.

Eric headed out of the city down winding country highways, the radio playing and the car heater keeping them toasty warm. Kara watched the rolling Tennessee countryside slip past, and even though the hills were brown and dry, she thought they looked beautiful. Eric pulled over, and they found a footpath and slowly walked through the woods. In spite of her heavy jacket, she shivered. Eric put his arm around her and pulled her close. His big, warm body protected her from the chill, and she hated to go back to the car.