Always and Forever (24 page)

“Because achieving second remissions with chemo is difficult.”

“Then what will they do?”

“Dr. Rowan says they want to try a bone marrow transplant.”

Jory had heard the term when Melissa had first been diagnosed a year before, but she couldn’t remember what the treatment involved. “Tell me about it.”

“It’s when they take healthy bone marrow from a donor and put it into my cancerous bone marrow. The theory is that the new marrow will begin to grow and take over from the bad marrow, and I’ll be cured.”

“Why didn’t they do that to begin with?”

Jory watched Melissa shove a seashell around with her big toe. “It’s risky.”

“How risky?”

“Fifty-fifty chance of its working.”

The implications of Melissa’s words momentarily tied Jory’s tongue. Finally she said, “Sounds
like they’re calling a coin toss. Heads, they win. Tails, you lose.”

“That’s about the size of it.”

“And if they don’t do the transplant at all? What are the odds then of your being cured?”

“Twenty percent.”

“Stinking odds.” She took a long, shuddering breath and faced Melissa fully, crossing her arms as if to ward off the impracticality of the math equation. “So where do you get this marrow?”

“Dr. Rowan says that anyone’s best chance comes when the marrow is received from a biologically compatible donor.”

“Meaning?”

“Michael.”

Jory’s heart lurched.
Double jeopardy
. What if they both lost? “Is it dangerous?”

“More for Michael than for me. For him, it means an operation to remove the marrow and a recovery period. There’s a risk whenever anyone goes under general anesthesia. It’s uncomfortable for the donor because they put a needle into his hipbone to extract the marrow.”

Jory trembled and for a second felt queasy. “Then what happens?”

“Once they remove it, they bring the marrow to me in IV bags and let it drip into me, just like the chemo. I’m awake the whole time and won’t feel anything. Mom can even sit with me. We can read
or play Monopoly. ‘Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200’ … ” Her attempt at humor didn’t help Jory.

“How does Michael feel about donating his marrow?”

“You know Michael.… Bring on the lions.”

Jory smiled wistfully, thinking of Michael. “You said there were risks,” she said.

“Well, its more complicated than just dumping Michael’s marrow into my body. It has to do with genetic compatibility.”

“I thought you said you and Michael were compatible.”

“We are. Mostly. But there’s always the threat of rejection. And complications.”

“You could reject his marrow?”

“Our cells’ genetic codes are different. My body will attack his marrow the minute it gets inside.”

“But I’ll bet the doctors have a solution for that problem too.” Jory knew she sounded sarcastic, but she didn’t care.

“How’d you guess?” Melissa stooped and picked up the shell and ran her fingers over the smooth, sea-worn surface. “They put me in the hospital and do testing to see if I’m a candidate for the operation in the first place. If so, they put me into isolation, in a germ-free room, and start me on massive doses of autoimmune suppressant drugs. They destroy my body’s ability to fight germs,
and
it’s ability to fight off Michael’s bone marrow. Then they do the transplant. Then we have to wait to see if it takes, and hope there aren’t any complications,
like a secondary infection. As I understand it, even a common cold could kill me because I’ll have no resistance to fight it.”

“And if it does take?”

“I get to go home and go on a different kind of maintenance program. Ultimately, I can be cured.”

She cleared her throat. “So how long will all this testing and suppressing and operating take?”

“Six to eight weeks.”

“So if you go in now, you could be out by January.”

“I haven’t said I’d do it.”

“What?” Jory leaned forward, as if she hadn’t heard correctly. “I don’t understand.”

Melissa flung the shell far into the sea. It shattered the path the moonlight made on the water. “It’s my body and my treatment, and I haven’t decided to go ahead with it.”

“But … you have to!” Jory’s eyes grew wide, her palms clammy. “The odds … ”

“Screw the odds.” Melissa’s voice had gone calm and steely. “I’m not sure I want to be part of some grand experiment.”

“But they must do this operation all the time. I read where they transplant whole hearts and livers. Surely a little bone marrow—”

Melissa interrupted. “But this time it’s
me
, Jory. It’s not some stranger in the newspaper.”

“What are you gonna do?” Jory couldn’t keep her voice from wavering as she asked the question.

“I don’t know … Which brings us back to our original discussion, doesn’t it? Maybe God’s already
decided what I’m going to do. Just like He decided that I was going to have leukemia.”

Jory felt the darkness of the night closing in on her. She was afraid. Afraid because she could do no more to change the course of Melissa’s life than she could to change the course of the tide. “You will tell me when you decide, won’t you? No matter what you decide?”

Melissa hooked her arm through Jory’s. “You know I will. You’re my best friend.”

Jory felt a lump wedged in her throat. “Come back to the party with me and I’ll roast you a marsh-mallow.”

“You’re on.”

They walked together slowly toward the party and the bonfire’s flaming fingers. As they walked the water washed their footprints away leaving no trace of their existence on the shell-strewn beach.

“Your father’s furious, Jory. How do you think we felt when the police showed up at two
A.M
. to tell us that they’d busted a bunch of minors for drinking on our beach property?”

Jory faced her mother in the luxurious living room of their house, too weary to do much more than shift from foot to foot. “For the tenth time, Mother, I left at midnight to take Melissa home and I didn’t go back to the party. I just came on home.”

“But it was
your
responsibility and
your
friends.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it. We allowed you to throw that party, but we’d never condone drinking by minors.”

Jory knew she should have hung around and supervised the party, but after hearing Melissa’s latest news, neither of them had been in the mood for it. “Look, I’ll go back today and make sure the property is cleaned up. I never meant for things to get out of hand.”

“It’s going to be a long time before we allow you to have another party, Jory, so don’t ask.” Mrs. Delaney glared and tapped her nails on the marble mantle of the fireplace.

Jory sighed, impatient to escape her mother’s foul temper. She didn’t know what else to say. She couldn’t tell her about Melissa’s problems because her friend had asked Jory to keep it secret until she decided what she wanted to do about the transplant. “Don’t worry. It’ll be a long time before I want to throw another party. Can I go now?”

“Not yet. I want to discuss your schedule for the upcoming holiday season.”

“What schedule?”

“The party agenda and where we’ll be expected to attend.”

Jory groaned. “Do I have to?”

“Yes, you do. There’s a dinner dance at the University Club that highly placed educators from all over the state will be attending. I told Beverly Hotchkiss that her son Steve could escort you.”

Jory rolled her eyes, remembering Steve as
conceited and mouthy with roaming hands. “Not him,” she groaned.

“Beverly’s husband chairs the state committee on education and is very influential. For a girl who may need all the influence she can gather simply to get into college, this particular party is a must.”

“Kids get into college on their grades and test scores, Mother, not on who they know.”

“Don’t you bet on it,” Mrs. Delaney said. “Besides I think your father has his sights set on your attending the University of Miami, his alma mater.”

Jory’s mouth dropped open. Her parents had already decided her future! “Since when? Cripes, I haven’t even made up my mind about
going
to college yet. That’s not fair!”

“We’re only trying to do what’s best for you, Jory. If you do decide to go to college, at least this way you’ll have your foot in the door. Your father’s already begun your paperwork.”

“How dare you and Daddy do this without my permission!”

“Why can’t you see that we are not your enemies, Jory? We only want what’s best for you.”

Jory felt that the world was crumbling. Melissa was facing a risky cure, Jory was expected to date boys she disliked and go to parties she didn’t want to attend, and her parents were negotiating her life like a real estate deal. “You can’t
make
me do something I don’t want to do,” she said stubbornly. “And I still haven’t made up my mind about college, much less where I want to go. So stop it!”

“Well make it up,” Mrs. Delaney said, her tone angry. “Decide something by January, because that’s all the time I’m going to give you to start being sensible about the rest of your life.”

On Monday, the school was buzzing about Jory’s party and the raid by the police. Without meaning to, she’d achieved minor celebrity status at Lincoln. “What did they do to you?” she asked a group of guys at lunch.

Billy Warren lowered his dark glasses and grinned. “Not half of what my dad did to me. I’m on probation until 1999.”

“Glad you can make light of it, Warren,” another boy said. “I got my car taken away and I’m walking to school for the rest of the semester.”

Jory propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her palms. “Sorry it got out of hand.”

Billy shrugged. “It was still a cool party, Jory, so don’t sweat it. The cops have us going before a judge next month and we’ll probably all be assigned some sort of community service.”

“I guess it could be worse,” she told him. “Maybe it won’t go on your record.” After the guys left, she found herself sitting alone with Lyle Vargas. “You get busted too?”

“No. I left before the action started.”

“Smart move.”

“Why’d you and Melissa leave so early?”

She was surprised that he’d noticed when she’d taken off. “Melissa was tired and she wanted to leave.” It was a half-truth, but the whole truth wasn’t any of his business.

“Are you her keeper?”

Jory sat up and stared him straight in the eyes. “What’s that crack supposed to mean? No, I’m not her keeper, but she’s my friend and she’s sick and I brought her to the party. When she wanted to go, I took her home. That’s all.”

Lyle’s expression was serious. “When we were on the Brain Bowl team together, I saw how much determination she had and I admired it. I feel sorry for her too.”

“I don’t feel sorry for her.” Jory bristled. “I respect her. She knows what she wants and she goes after it.
She’s
a National Merit semifinalist,” she added pointedly.

Lyle grinned sheepishly. “So am I.”

He caught Jory completely off guard and she felt herself blush. “Congratulations,” she said. Then a thought occurred to her. Lyle was brilliant. Would he be capable of taking away a scholarship from Melissa? “Are you applying for a scholarship?” she asked.

“Yeah. I’d like to go to medical school. How about you?”

Jory suddenly felt nervous. She’d never considered that someone else from Lincoln might get the award. She decided not to say anything to Melissa, since her friend had so much else on her
mind, but she
would
keep tabs on Lyle. He wasn’t bad-looking, Jory thought. A bit serious, but tall and lean with an angular face and intense amber eyes. He was no Michael, but he was handsome in his own way. “I haven’t decided where I’ll go,” she said. “Maybe the University of Miami.”

“It’s a good school.”

“It’s close to the beach.”

“I haven’t decided where I’ll go either. A lot depends on getting a scholarship. Even if I don’t get the National Merit, I need to get some sort of scholarship, and since I want to be a doctor, I need to do pretty well wherever I end up going.”

She shrugged, feeling irritated. Did everybody in the world know what he wanted from life except her? “It takes years and years to become a doctor,” she said. “I couldn’t stand all that studying. That’s the problem with college—you have to study. Maybe I’ll just go for the frat parties.”

“You can have anything you go after,” Lyle said, his eyes holding hers.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’ll keep it in mind.” She shifted, feeling self-conscious. “I’ve got to scoot. If I cut one more English class, I’ll flunk this six-week grading period.”

Lyle scrambled up when she stood. “Maybe we can talk again, Jory.”

“Sure, Lyle. Sometime.” Jory hurried off to class without a backward glance.

Jory had a fling with Doug Swanson during football playoffs, which kept the next few weekends
tied up, but by Thanksgiving, the infatuation had run its course. On Thanksgiving Day, she ate a quick and boring meal with her parents at a restaurant, then went to Melissa’s to watch the college games.

Sunk in a comfy beanbag chair, Jory was profoundly aware of Michael stretched out on the sofa near her. He seemed to have returned to his solitary ways and Jory was secretly glad that his relationship with Beth had broken off.