True Love (7 page)

“That’s good. I was hoping everything would get back to normal for the two of you.”

Normal
. After so many weeks of being in the grip of crisis, Julie had forgotten what “normal” felt like. Suddenly, she felt depressed. But she also saw that she couldn’t
allow Luke to retreat from the world, for both of their sakes. If she loved him, she’d do her best to help him resume a normal existence. And if he loved her, he’d do it.

She discussed it with her father, and two days later Julie was at Luke’s watching an afternoon TV game show with him when her dad arrived carrying a large box.

“What’s up, Coach?” Luke asked as Bud Ellis set the box in the center of the floor, right in front of the television screen.

“I brought you a little present.” He proceeded to open the box and to lift out shiny new barbells and weights. “You know that the guys on the team are hitting the weight room regularly.”

“Sure. We—they do every year.”

“Well, I figure you won’t be going to the gym right away for workouts, but I don’t want my number one quarterback turning into a glassy-eyed wimp.” He cast a disdainful glance toward the TV. “I want you on a weightlifting program, Luke.”

“Gee, Coach, I don’t know …”

Julie held her breath. She saw the struggle Luke was having stamped visibly on his face. He didn’t want to let her father down. But he was also very unsure of his abilities.

“Luke, I don’t expect you to bench-press two hundred pounds the way you were when the season ended. This stuff is just to get you started, keep you from falling too far behind. Start slow. Do arm curls with low weights.” He fitted five-pound disks onto a set of barbells as he talked. “Do three sets of twelve four times a day until you feel stronger. I’ll work with you.”

Julie could see the muscle along Luke’s jaw working and knew he was clenching his teeth. “Don’t you want to play next season?” she asked.

“I haven’t thought about anything else,” he said quietly. “Football means everything to me.”

“Then let’s get you started on a program to build you back up,” Bud said.

“I feel pretty lousy, Coach.”

“I know, son.” He reached out and gripped Luke’s shoulder. “But you will feel better. You’re going to lick this thing, Luke. You’re going to get well and you’re going to play football in your senior year. And every college coach in the country is going to sit up and take note.”

Julie saw the fire of longing flicker in Luke’s brown eyes. It caused a lump in her throat as
she realized how long it had been since she’d seen it there. She was grateful to her father for igniting it. “I’ll help, Luke,” she said. “When you’re strong enough to run laps, I’ll clock you. I’ll even run with you.”

He gave her a partial smile. “What if you beat me?”

“I can keep my mouth shut. I won’t blab it around.”

He reached down and gripped the thick steel middle of the bar, and slowly, he lifted it, curling it up to his chest. “Man, I’m weak as a kitten.”

“But the muscle’s still there,” Coach said. “All you have to do is tone it, build it up. You can do it, Luke. I remember that scrawny little kid who first reported to the Y locker room when he was twelve. Why, I was sure a big puff of wind would blow him over.”

Luke smiled. “I wasn’t much, was I?”

“What you lacked in build, you made up for in determination. I never saw a kid as determined as you. You spent months in the weight room bulking up. And more months practicing throwing the football.”

“You still think I’ll have what it takes to play?”

“You’ve always had what it takes: determination plus hard work.”

“Lots of guys work hard at the game. And you’re a good coach.”

“But you’ve also got talent, Luke. I can’t put into any player something God left out.”

Luke’s gaze skimmed the weights strewn around the carpet. “I guess I could give it a try. The days get pretty long with nothing to do but feel punk and do schoolwork.”

“That’s the spirit,” Coach Ellis said, beaming him a smile. “After I wrap up my duties at school, I’ll head over here and we’ll get to work.”

“I do want to play again,” Luke said wistfully.

“And you will,” Julie’s dad insisted, giving Julie a sly wink.

She smiled, feeling optimistic that Luke would soon get his zest back. She was appreciative of her father’s actions and saw with clarity one of the reasons he was such a good coach: he inspired and motivated a person; he didn’t threaten and intimidate.

And she made up her mind that she wasn’t going to sit around feeling sorry for herself because she had to stay home on a Friday or Saturday night. As long as Luke was sick, she’d
be there for him. By spring, this whole chemo business would be behind him and they could get on with their lives. And she was now more positive than ever that whatever Luke Muldenhower did with his life, she wanted to be right by his side doing it with him.

She reached over and laced her fingers through Luke’s. “If you’re going to pump iron, I will too.”

Luke and her father glanced at each other.

“I’m serious,” Julie said. “What’s the matter? Can’t stand a little competition?”

Luke tweaked the muscle in her upper arm and rolled his eyes.

“Very funny,” Julie sniffed.

But her father broke out in a roaring laugh and Luke’s smile lit up his face. Julie thought the sight so beautiful that she didn’t mind one bit being the focus of their joke. No, not one tiny little bit.

E
ventually, Luke decided to return to school. Julie was proud of him, for she knew it wasn’t easy. He’d always been admired at Waterton High and looked up to by both students and faculty. He was handsome, the star quarterback, a good student, and an all-around nice guy. But cancer and chemotherapy had left their mark.

There were those who whispered about the change in him. The girls were the worst. Julie would swing into the bathroom between classes and conversation would stop as all eyes turned toward her. She’d know they’d been discussing Luke, and she disliked them for it—would glare at them, daring them to continue with their gossip.

His baseball hat became a familiar sight in the halls and classrooms. No teacher ever
asked him to remove it. Often, because he was so tall, Julie could see the hat bobbing above the crush of bodies passing from room to room between classes.

In a show of camaraderie, the players on the football team bought matching baseball hats and wore them every day. Even Julie’s dad wore one, and one day the local paper came out and did a story about Luke and the symbol of the hats.

On the weeks he was on chemo, Luke wore bulky sweaters to hide the black pouch he strapped around his torso that controlled the flow of medications into the Port-A-Cath in his neck. If he felt nauseated in the classroom, he simply edged out the door and into the bathroom. He never had to ask permission. It was simply understood that if Luke needed to leave for a while, he was free to go.

He continued his weight regime, and slowly his muscles began to strengthen. He took special vitamins, protein powders, and high-energy drinks to maintain proper nutrition levels. He insisted on going to a tanning salon to give his sallow complexion a more vibrant and healthy look. One day Julie teased, “You’d better be careful, Beach Boy. The girls are
starting to look hard at you, and I can’t stand the competition.”

“You have no competition,” he said. “Never have. Never will.” And to make his point, he had flowers delivered to her in the middle of a morning class.

By April, the last of the snow had finally melted and flowers had begun to bloom, first crocuses and jonquils, then tulips and lilies. Julie often found Luke after school sitting in the old bleachers overlooking the football field. She would climb up the weathered wooden slats and sit beside him, bringing him sometimes a candy bar, other times handfuls of foil-wrapped candy kisses. Chocolate seemed to be the one thing he could always keep down, no matter how sick the chemo made him.

“So what are you thinking about?” Julie asked as she settled next to him late one afternoon. A cool breeze was blowing. She hugged the letter jacket he had given her when they were freshmen tightly to her body.

“I’m thinking that spring’s my favorite time of year,” Luke told her. He was gazing thoughtfully out across the field. The grass looked hopelessly brown, but a few hardy dandelions
had begun to dot the ground like bright yellow exclamations points.

“I don’t believe it. You love football, and that’s in autumn.”

“Yeah, but before now, I took spring for granted. Everybody does, you know. They figure that it’ll just wander in. But this year, it’s extra special to me. And extra pretty.”

“Why, Luke—you almost sound like a poet.” She linked her arm through his.

“I’d write a poem if I could.” He tossed back his head and breathed in deeply. “Everybody’s always rushing around, Julie. They never stop and look around. They never see the new green color of the trees. Have you ever noticed how bright that shade of green is? And the flowers … flowers always seem to know when it’s time to start growing. One day the ground is flat, and the next day little green stems are poking up. I’ve watched them for a week, so I know. They’re asleep under the ground all through winter. Then they pop up.

She’d never heard him be so contemplative. “I guess we all take such things for granted. We figure, ‘Spring came last year; it will this year too.’ ”

His gaze swept the area. “I’ll never take it
for granted again. I’ll always be grateful to see every spring that ever comes along.”

She shivered, not from the cold, but from the tone of melancholy in his voice. “I will too.”

He looked down at her. “So maybe this whole experience has made me more sensitive. What do you think?”

“I think I’d rather you not have had the experience and be less sensitive.”

He laughed, and the sound thrilled her. He was beginning to seem so much more like his old self. “I start the final round of chemo next week. I didn’t think I’d ever get to this point.”

“And next Saturday is the sports banquet,” she reminded him. The year-end awards banquet for the athletic department was to be held at Waterton’s only resort hotel, built on the shore of Lake Michigan. Every athlete in the high school would be honored and over two hundred people were expected to attend. “Dad’s talked about nothing else for days. You are taking me, aren’t you?”

His expression clouded. “Julie, I don’t know how I’ll be feeling—”

She interrupted. “Poor excuse. We missed the Christmas dance and the Valentine’s
dance. We have to go to the banquet. I won’t take no for an answer.”

He was quiet.

She asked, “Luke, what’s wrong? Why don’t you want to go?”

“It’s hard to be around the team, that’s all.”

“You see the guys every day at school. What’s the difference?”

“The difference is I’ll be on display. At school, I can just blend into the crowd. But the banquet will be full of parents and news people. I hate people staring at me, Julie … feeling sorry for me.”

“People can’t help but feel sorry. What happened to you stinks. But look how far you’ve come! People want to be happy for you too. They want to see you be the winner that you are.”

He cocked his head. “Do you really believe I’m a winner?”

“I don’t hang with losers.”

“I love you, Julie.”

She grinned. “Then I’ll take that as a yes. You’ll take me to the banquet?”

He slumped, feigning defeat. “Do you always get your way?”

“Of course—I’m Coach Ellis’s daughter.”

She looked at her watch. “Now let’s get you home. It’s time to begin your workout.”

Hand in hand, they descended the bleachers and headed for the parking lot.

Julie had never seen her father so nervous as he was the night of the banquet. He kept tugging at the neck of his rented tux. “For heaven’s sake, Bud, stop fidgeting,” Julie’s mother said. She wore a filmy black dress that Julie thought made her look sophisticated and pretty. “We’ve been going to these banquets for years. This one’s no different.”

“It is for me.”

Julie was aware that something was going on. Her father had been acting secretive for days.

Patricia Ellis asked, “Do you have to wear that baseball cap tonight? It looks silly with the tux.”

Julie butted in. “The whole team’s wearing their caps, Mom, because Luke has to wear his. I think it’s sweet.” She smiled at her dad.

Her mother sighed. “Very well. Let’s go. We promised Nancy we’d pick her up at five-thirty.”

Julie’s parents left and minutes later, Frank, Solena, and Luke drove up to her house. “You
look good enough to kiss,” Luke told her when she slid into the backseat of Frank’s car.

“I’m puckered up.”

He kissed her lightly. “I’m nervous,” he confided. “People have been acting strange around me. Especially Frank.” He nodded toward the back of Frank’s head. The customary hat was pulled low over Frank’s ears.

Solena glanced back and rolled her eyes. She was clearly disgusted with Frank, but Julie didn’t care. She was glad the guys were wearing their matching caps.

The dining hall of the luxury hotel was packed with tables and crowded with people. Each sport had been granted a specific area of the great room. Football took up the largest space and was up front, near the podium. At the speakers’ table, stretching across the front of the room, special dignitaries were seated. Julie waved to her parents, who were seated between the principal and school superintendent.