All the Days of Her Life (7 page)

Immediately, Katie came to mind, then Chelsea, but to mention them might open up an area of discussion Lacey wanted to avoid. Her friends were sick, or had been sick, and that might lead Terri to wonder why Lacey knew them in the first place. “I guess you are after this.”

“Good choice. I had a best friend, Sharon, but she moved away. That was last year. We write, but it’s not the same, is it?”

“Not really,” Lacey said, rooting through her sundae
for an elusive cherry and hoping Terri didn’t ask any more questions. When your best and dearest friends were sick girls, it was difficult to talk about them.

“Sharon wants me to come see her this summer. She lives in Houston. But I need to get a job. What will you do this summer?”

Lacey thought about Jenny House, about the promise she, Katie, Chelsea, and Jillian had made to one another about meeting again at Amanda’s memorial on top of the mountain. In her mind’s eye she saw the stick tepee she’d constructed, the photograph fluttering in the breeze, the diamond stud earring Jillian had fastened to the picture. But Jillian was dead. And Chelsea’s transplanted heart could reject. For that matter, so could Katie’s.

“Excuse me. Earth to Lacey.” Terri was rapping the side of her water glass with her spoon. Lacey started. “You checked out on me,” Terri added. “Is everything all right?”

“Sure,” Lacey insisted. “My brain wandered. Probably too much food and it didn’t know how to react.”

“Well, believe it or not, even I’m on food overload.” Terri stuck her spoon into the gloppy remains of her ice cream. “But I feel better. At least my emotions do. And you? Wasn’t I right? Didn’t you need to eat your way out of that run-in with Todd? I’ll bet you haven’t thought about him once all evening.”

It was true. She’d completely forgotten about Todd. But memories of her friends crowded in and
disturbed her. They were doomed. All of them. No matter how well they did with their transplanted organs, their lifespans were shortened. So was Jeff’s.

Lacey felt sick to her stomach. The overload of food was beginning to take its toll. She was thirsty—horribly thirsty. And she had to go to the bathroom. She went at the ice cream parlor, then again the second she told Terri good night and thanks and got inside her house.

Fortunately, she was alone. Her Mother had left a note saying she’d gone out with friends. Lacey paced the floor, furious with herself for the eating binge. Terri had no way of understanding what this pigout was doing to her body. She felt dizzy and weak and her throat burned with unquenchable thirst. A dull headache throbbed behind her eyes. She didn’t know how to manipulate her insulin to take care of the excess. If only she hadn’t eaten all that sugar and fat! If only she could get rid of it all.

Then, in the darkness of the hallway, she remembered Monet in the theater bathroom.
“I was purging,”
she’d said. Of course. Vomiting was one quick, sure way to rid herself of the food. “I’ve got to do it,” Lacey told herself in the dark.

Without another thought, she hurried into the bathroom and shut the door.

A
FTER A FEW
weeks, Lacey was amazed at how incredibly simple it became to make herself throw up. For the first time in years, she was able to eat anything she wanted, anytime she wanted—just so long as she could rid her stomach of its contents before the food could actually be digested. And the freedom to eat and not gain weight made the job of juggling her insulin much simpler.

She stopped checking her blood sugars altogether. “Why worry about it?” she told herself. Purging herself of unwanted food would keep her blood sugar level, wouldn’t it? Besides, things at school had picked up. Instead of blowing her off, Todd was paying a lot more attention to her. She wasn’t sure why, but she was glad of it.

Play rehearsals had moved into their final week
and Lacey was responsible for overseeing makeup, her favorite part of theater and drama. She was applying thick stage makeup to Todd’s face, her back to the dressing mirror, when he asked, “Did you just paint your fingernails?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“You smell like that stuff girls use when they do their nails.”

She held her hands under his nose. “See, no polish.”

He shrugged. “I’ll be glad when this play’s over. It’s taken over my life.”

Lacey considered the completion of the play a mixed blessing. On one hand, it was exciting and fun, and she was with Todd every night. On the other, she was absolutely exhausted. Getting up in the mornings was a struggle. She fought off a deadened sleep that seemed leechlike, sucking her energy before she even opened her eyes.

“Ms. Kasch wants the cast onstage.” Terri said as she stuck her head through the open door.

“But I’m not finished,” Lacey explained. Her fingers felt thick and sluggish, unresponsive to her commands to hurry.

“It’s only a dress rehearsal,” Todd said, pulling the towel that protected off the collar of his clothing and tossing it on the dressing room floor.

Lacey bent over to retrieve it and was struck by a wave of dizziness.

“You all right?” Terri asked, taking hold of Lacey’s arm to steady her. Todd had already left the room.

“Fine.” Lacey offered a shaky smile while thinking,
It can’t be an insulin reaction
. She hadn’t had a reaction from low blood sugar in ages.

“You look sort of flushed,” Terri said. “You coming down with the flu or something?”

“You sound like my mother. She’s been on my case because she thinks I’m too thin.” Lacey rolled her eyes. “As if anyone can be
too
thin.”

Terri tapped her finger, thoughtfully studying Lacey. “You have lost plenty of weight. But I’ve seen you eat and you don’t exactly pick at your food.”

“I have a healthy appetite.”

“You have healthy kidneys,” Terri joked. “I’ve seen how often you exercise them.”

Lacey allowed Terri to laugh at her expense. If only Terri knew
how
active her kidneys were these days. Lacey felt as if she spent half her life in the bathroom.

After rehearsal, Lacey headed for her car, looking forward to going home and diving into her bed. Todd caught up with her in the parking lot, looping his arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck. “What’s the hurry?”

“I’m wiped out and I still have a test to study for,” she explained.

“But I need a kiss.”

She turned her mouth upward and felt his lips press hard against hers. She only wished she didn’t feel so drained so that she could have enjoyed it more. But then, she never had enjoyed Todd’s kisses as much as Jeff’s—Lacey put the brakes on the turn her thoughts had taken and slid her arms around
Todd’s neck.
Enjoy!
she told herself. Hadn’t this been what she wanted since September?

Driving home that night, Lacey noticed that her vision was blurring. “Oh, great. I’ll probably have to get glasses,” she complained aloud to her reflection in the rearview mirror. She blinked and rubbed her tired eyes. “A little sleep. All I need is a little sleep.”

She stepped inside the front door, only to be confronted by her mother. “I’ve been waiting to talk to you,” her mother said.

“Can it wait until tomorrow, Mom? I’m really tired.”

“No, it cannot wait.”

Lacey gritted her teeth and tossed her books and purse onto the catch-all bench along one wall of the foyer. “What wrong?”

“Uncle Nelson’s office called today and left a message on the answering machine. The nurse said that you’d missed your appointment—
again.”
Her mother looked angry.

Lacey groaned. She’d rescheduled her appointment twice and had totally forgotten to do it again. “I forgot,” she explained. “I’ll call and make another one tomorrow.”

“I talked to Nelson tonight. He said he hasn’t seen you for over six months. I asked him if it was important, and he almost bit my head off. He said, ‘You bet it’s important.’ He fussed at me, Lacey. My own brother criticized
me
. As if it were my fault you weren’t going in for your checkups. I’ve always let
you handle your diabetes. You said you could. But now I discover that you’re not managing it at all.”

Lacey was in no mood to argue. “The play is over this weekend. Two more rehearsals and four performances. I think I can put off my doctor’s appointment for a few more days. Cut me some slack, Mom. I’ve got a million things on my mind and I don’t need to be nagged about some stupid appointment.” Lacey was breathing hard when she finished her speech, but it worked, because her mother muttered something about “being responsible” and “get it done,” then stalked off.

Lacey went into her bedroom and sprawled across her bed. Both her head and stomach hurt. Maybe Terri was right. Perhaps she was coming down with the flu. The high-tech buzz of her telephone pulled her out of a groggy stupor. Lacey fumbled with the receiver.

“You sound fuzzy. Did I wake you?” It was Katie’s voice.

Lacey glanced at the clock. It was only ten-thirty, too early to feel so wiped out. “I just got in from play practice. How are you doing? What’s up?”

“My frustration level is topped out.” Lacey waited patiently for Katie to explain, willing herself to focus on her friend’s words. Katie was too good a friend to put off, especially since they didn’t talk on the phone very often. “I want to go away to college, but my folks and Josh are really putting the pressure on me to stay home and go to Michigan in the fall.”

“It’s a top-ten school. Would that be so horrible?”

“But I want to go away. I’ve lived here all my life, and except for going on a few vacations and spending the summer at Jenny House, I never get out of Ann Arbor!”

“But your heart—”

Katie let out a little shriek. “Not you too? You’re the one person I expected to support me. My transplant’s doing great. Why shouldn’t I go off to college?”

Lacey was ashamed of mentioning Katie’s health—the one thing she hated most for people to mention to her. “Sorry. I lost my head for a minute. Of course you should go away to college. Where do you want to go?”

“That’s the problem. No one’s offered me a scholarship yet. I could use my Wish money for tuition, but I’m still holding out for the possibility of scholarship money. Plus an athletic scholarship would make my parents much more inclined to let me go off. Which brings me to why I called.”

“You want a contribution from me to the Katie O’Roark scholarship fund?”

“Very funny. No, guess where the high school national track competitions are being held this year?” Katie didn’t wait for Lacey’s guess. “Miami,” she cried. “And even though the season’s just started up here, our girls track team is seeded number one in the state. If we win the state, then we come to Florida.”

“Somehow I have no doubt you’ll be down here. When’s the big event?”

“Not till May.”

Lacey felt a slight letdown. It was mid-March. She wished she could see Katie sooner. All the things that were happening to her seemed too complicated to discuss over the phone, and she’d never find the time or energy to write it down in a letter. “Well, I hope you get to come. You know if you do, I’ll be in the stands cheering for you.”

“I’m writing Jeff and telling him too. I know he’s transferred to the U of M. I guess you’ve made a point of not seeing him.” Because Lacey paused before answering, Katie added, “I thought as much. I still think he cares about you, Lace—although I can’t figure why. You treat him like a nonperson.”

“Don’t nag. I have my reasons.” Lacey quickly hurried to talk about the play and the fun she was having at being part of Todd’s exclusive crowd. “He may ask me to the prom,” she finished.

“Garrison’s asked me to our senior dance, but I know Josh expects me to go with him.”

“And you should. Josh is your guy.”

Katie mumbled something about “ruts” and “same old routines,” but Lacey was having difficulty paying attention. “I’ll call you after opening night,” Katie said. “You can tell me how the play went. And how brilliant a job you did on the makeup.”

Lacey said good-bye and headed immediately to the bathroom. There, a wave of nausea swept over her that was so intense, Lacey began to retch and vomit into the toilet bowl without even having to
force herself to do it.
I have to get better
, she told herself. Too many things were going her way, and she didn’t want to get sick and blow it all now.
Hang on!
Katie used to tell Amanda. “Hang on,” Lacey repeated to her flushed-looking face in the bathroom mirror.