Kathleen's Story (7 page)

“H
OLLY, MAY
I talk to you in my office?” Mrs. Graham was Holly’s supervisor on the pediatric floor. Her request caught Holly completely off guard. She’d just signed on to the floor and was heading into the playroom for morning art therapy when Mrs. Graham stopped her.

“Now, or later?” Holly racked her brain to figure out what she might have done to earn a visit to the supervisor’s office.

“Right now,” Mrs. Graham said.

With a pounding heart, Holly followed Mrs. Graham into her tiny cubicle, where she shut the door and gestured to a chair. Mrs. Graham went behind a desk piled with papers and file folders. Seeing the messy desk helped Holly breathe easier. Mrs. Graham probably wanted her to file and straighten her work space.

“You like working with the little kids, don’t you?”

“Yes. A lot.”
No filing today
, Holly thought.
Mrs. Graham obviously had something else on her mind.

“I see that you’ve signed up to help with the July Fourth ice cream social.” The party was only two days away.

“Yes. So have my two best friends.”

Mrs. Graham steepled her fingers together. “Since I can’t be there, I’ve been thinking of asking you to take on a special project at the party for me. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you were the right person for the job.”

“Whatever you want, I’ll be glad to do.”

“You have a choice about this project, Holly. You don’t have to do it just because I ask. It goes beyond, shall we say, your regular duties.”

Intrigued, Holly asked, “Um—what is it? Mop floors? Churn ice cream?”

Mrs. Graham smiled. “No, dear. It’s a people project.”

By now, curiosity was oozing out of Holly’s pores. “Okay.”

“I would like your help with a very special child.”

“Special” usually meant difficult. Holly riffled mentally through the list of kids on the floor, and while some were cranky in their various stages of recovery, none of them seemed difficult to her. “Who?”

“His name is Ben Keller. He’s just five years old. And he’s in the cancer wing.”

Holly sat up even straighter. “But I thought—”

“I know. We don’t normally allow first-time volunteers to help in that area, but I’ve spoken to Connie and told her I thought you could deal with it. She also said you’d told her that you were planning to continue on as a Pink Angel after school started.”

“I am.” Holly nodded vigorously. “I love the program.” Her original motive of working through the upcoming school year merely to avoid taking a science course wasn’t important any longer.

“Let me tell you a little about Ben before you meet him.” Mrs. Graham leaned back, looking more relaxed. “He was first diagnosed with a rare form of cancer when he was three. I was his nurse and let me tell you, he won my heart. He was in the hospital for four months before we achieved remission, and by then everyone on the floor had fallen in love with him. I mean, most patients don’t stay here that long for treatments, but his circumstances were unusual.”

Mrs. Graham shifted in her chair. “His family lives about two and a half hours east of Tampa in Crystal River. His father drives a semi and is on the road a lot. His mother is very sweet and very young. When Ben got his diagnosis, his mother stayed at the hospital almost round the clock and was here for most of his treatments. The staff sort
of adopted Ben and his mother. It happens—you just get involved sometimes, even when you know you shouldn’t.

“Anyway, it was a very hard time for his family, but his doctors finally got the results they were after and released him. The day Ben went home, we threw him a little going-away party. Cake, balloons, took up a collection too for a tricycle. He loved the one in the playroom.”

Holly listened, seeing the scenes in her mind as Mrs. Graham described them. She felt very sorry already for the little boy she’d never met. “I guess his cancer didn’t stay away, did it?” she asked, knowing the answer already.

“He was checked in over the weekend. It seems he’s out of remission. And this time, his mother is in the middle of a difficult pregnancy and on bed rest. She can’t stay with Ben. I went to see him. He’s so sad. He just broke my heart. He remembered me, but two years have passed, and I have other duties.” Mrs. Graham’s eyes filled with tears, and so did Holly’s.

Mrs. Graham cleared her throat. “Anyway, I thought of you and I thought how nice it would be if you could take him to that ice cream social and stay with him. You know, make him feel special and maybe not so alone.”

“I’ll go meet him right away,” Holly said, jumping up.

Mrs. Graham grinned broadly. “I thought you’d agree. Introduce yourself to Sue at the desk through the double doors. Tell her who you are and she’ll take you to Ben’s room. And thank you, Holly.”

“I’m glad to do it. Really.” Holly’s heart swelled with pride. Mrs. Graham trusted her and considered her mature enough to take Ben under her wing—more mature than her own parents considered her.

From the moment Holly stepped onto the cancer floor, she knew she was in a different world. For although the walls were bright, and every door was painted in primary colors and patients’ artwork hung from the ceiling on fishing line, nothing could dispel the atmosphere of serious illness that hung in the air like an invisible mist. Holly walked straight to the desk and asked for Sue. A young woman said, “Peggy Graham told me you might come. Ben’s in room sixteen. Follow me.”

The room held two beds; one was empty. In the other, a small child lay curled in a ball, one arm strapped to a board so as not to dislodge his IV line and the other thrown around a large teddy bear dressed as a pirate. Sue said, “Ben, I want you to meet someone.”

The child didn’t stir, just looked straight
ahead, his expression the saddest Holly had ever seen.

“I’m Holly.” Holly bent down so that her gaze could meet Ben’s.

His lower lip quivered, but he refused to acknowledge her.

“He’s been this way for two days,” Sue said. “Stay for a while. Maybe he’ll perk up.”

Alone with the little boy, Holly found a chair and dragged it to the side of the bed. “I like your bear. Does he have a name?”

Ben remained mute.

Seeing a label sewn into the bear’s fur, Holly leaned over and read:
Adam’s Boo-Boo Bears, a nonprofit organization
. “Do you like pirates?” she asked.

Again, nothing from the child.

This was going to be harder than she’d thought. “Can I sit here with you?” she asked. “I’m really supposed to be helping other kids do art projects, but when they told me you might like some company, I wanted to come and meet you.” No response. “Do you like to draw?” Nothing. She reached over and picked up a book from Ben’s bedside table. “This is a
great
book. My dad used to read it to me when I was small. You know, before I learned to read. Would you like me to read it to you?”

Ben kept silent, but she saw his eyelids flicker. Encouraged, she took it as a yes. She
flipped open the book and began to read him
The Cat in the Hat
, by Dr. Seuss. She read with passion, with inflection, with all the dramatic excitement she could muster. Ben lay still, never once acknowledging that he was listening.

When she was finished with the story, she closed the book, asking, “Did you like the story?”

Nothing.

“You know, I have tons of books at home.” She was remembering the boxes of her picture books stashed away in the attic. “Why don’t I bring some in and read them to you tomorrow?”

Silence.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, standing. She touched his hair lightly and left the room. In the hall, she drooped, amazed at how much energy she’d used trying to get through to him. She had no idea whether she’d succeeded; she only knew she had thirty-six hours to bring him out from behind his wall of isolation.

“Poor little guy,” Raina said after Holly told her friends about Ben during the ride home.

“He’s scared,” Kathleen said, matter-of-factly. Holly’s story had taken her instantly back to her own childhood, to the day when the phone had rung and her babysitter had answered, then begun to cry. Kathleen saw with startling clarity the hospital ICU where she’d been taken to peer through a window at her mother on a bed,
wrapped in bandages. She had not been allowed to see her father ever again.

There had been a funeral with a casket that she was told held her father. For a long time, she believed that he would come home, that the big box and the funeral had been a mistake. Her daddy would have
never
gone off and left her and her mother
forever
. But as her mother slowly recovered in the hospital, as she held on to Kathleen and wept time and again, Kathleen came to understand that he would not be back.

“Earth to Kathleen.”

Raina’s voice snapped Kathleen into the present. “Sorry,” she said with a start.

“Where do you go when you check out that way?”

Kathleen shrugged. “Noplace. I was just thinking.”

“We were asking whether or not Carson was coming to the ice cream event to help out,” Raina said.

“He hasn’t said,” Kathleen answered. In truth, she hadn’t heard a word from him since their dinner date, which left her to wonder why he hadn’t called. What was so hard about picking up a phone and punching in a phone number?

By now, Raina’s car was in Kathleen’s driveway. Kathleen exited the car slowly, her emotions still stuck in a downward spiral of remorse and regret
. Had she kissed her daddy goodbye that day? She couldn’t remember. Had she done something to turn Carson off? She didn’t know.

She leaned in through the car window and said to Holly, “I hope you get through to little Ben. If anyone can, you can.”

“Well, thanks,” Holly said, genuinely touched by Kathleen’s sincerity. Sometimes it was difficult to keep step with Kathleen. She was mercurial— up one minute, down the next.
“Still waters run deep,”
her mother used to say. With Kathleen McKensie, Holly thought that was certainly true. Kathleen was as deep as the ocean, especially when she sat very still and got that faraway look in her eyes.

Ben wasn’t responsive to Holly the next day either. She read three books and talked up a storm too. On the afternoon of the Fourth, an hour before the ice cream feast was to begin, she panicked and tried a new tack.

She breezed into his room and flopped into the chair dramatically. She furrowed her brow and looked directly into the little boy’s face. “Ben, I have a problem.”

He was sitting up, clutching his pirate bear, an untouched tray of food in front of him. He turned his head to look at Holly, which encouraged her.

“Did you know that there’s going to be a big party downstairs and outside on the hospital’s property today? They’re having hot dogs and ice cream. There’ll be some clowns and games too.”

Ben looked at her but said nothing.

“My problem is”—Holly paused and glanced around, as if sharing a secret that was for him only—“I don’t have a date.” She blew air through her lips. “And my dad’s sort of strict. You know, he’s always wanting me to obey his rules.” She added that part because she figured Ben would know about parental rules. “And one of his rules is that I can’t go to parties alone.”

Ben said nothing, but Holly could tell he was listening.

“So I was wondering if maybe we could go together. Just so my dad won’t be mad at me.” Nothing. “What do you think? You’d be doing me a
huge
favor. I really like hot dogs and ice cream. I’d hate to miss out. But if you really don’t want to go, we’ll stay here and I’ll read to you.”

Still, Ben simply stared at her. Her ploy was failing. “Okay, then,” she said, reaching for a book. “I’ll skip the party.”

“I’ll go.”

Ben’s voice was so small that Holly almost missed his answer. “You will? Oh, Ben, this just makes my day!” She rose. “Tell you what. Let me go find the duty nurse and we’ll get you a wheelchair
and head down. We’re going to have lots of fun. Trust me.”

He nodded solemnly.

“I really appreciate this, Ben. I
really
do.” She ran from the room before he could change his mind.

“W
OULD YOU LOOK
at that! Those are five of the skinniest girls I’ve ever seen,” Raina said, adjusting the eyepiece on her binoculars. “I could just gag.”

“Will you stop, please? We’re going to get into so much trouble.” Kathleen kept glancing at the closed door of the doctors’ lounge on the seventh floor, positive that they’d be caught spying at any minute.

“Lighten up. It’s a holiday and no one’s coming up here today.” The suites of doctors’ offices were closed for the Fourth, but Raina had sneaked herself and Kathleen up to the lounge that looked down on the hospital’s lakeside area where the back-to-school photo shoot was taking place.

From this height, the people looked small and inconsequential, scurrying around the photographer’s lights and light-reflecting screens like busy ants. A group of teenage models draped themselves over props brought in for the shoot— blackboards, student desks, bikes and a motorcycle.
The site under the great banyan tree was supposed to be an outdoor classroom, but Kathleen thought the sets looked dumb. “We should probably go downstairs and help at the social,” she said, glancing over her shoulder once more.

“Relax. We’ve got over an hour before the party starts.”

Kathleen kept fidgeting. Why had she let Raina talk her into coming up here in the first place?
Because you wanted to see Stephanie without her seeing you
. She answered her own question immediately. Raina’s mother had inadvertently alerted Raina as to Stephanie’s participation in the shoot when Vicki had shared a routine memo about it. No one was allowed on hospital grounds without a security pass, so the memo listed the names of all people who’d be issued such passes on July Fourth. Stephanie’s name leapt off the paper when Raina looked it over, and she’d grabbed Kathleen and dragged her and a pair of binoculars to the lounge for a look-see.

Raina pressed the binoculars to the window. “Yuck. If that’s what’s being worn in September, I’ll be sticking to my old wardrobe.”

Kathleen saw a trailer off to one side where the models disappeared from time to time to change outfits. “What’s happening now?”

“On the other hand,” Raina said, ignoring Kathleen’s question, “you’ll be right at home, girlfriend. Looks like denim is in, big-time.”

“Are you still ragging on me about my jeans collection?”

“Course not. But now you must have a jeans jacket trimmed in faux fur.”

“You’re kidding.” In Tampa, it was hot as blazes well into the fall.

“Whoa—look at the food on that table.” Raina poked Kathleen with her elbow without lowering the binoculars. “And one of the models is chowing down. She’ll probably be over in the bushes barfing in a few minutes, though.” Raina snorted.

“That’s a hateful thing to say.” Kathleen tapped her foot with growing impatience, and finally, unable to contain her curiosity any longer, she grabbed the binoculars out of Raina’s hands. “Give them to me.” She parked the lenses in front of her eyes and the people came into such close-up focus that she almost jumped backward.

“Hey, don’t break my nose,” Raina said while rubbing it.

Kathleen ignored her and swung the binoculars back and forth, settling first on the photographer, who seemed to be barking orders, then over to the models, who looked bored. Her palms grew sweaty as she swept across the models’ faces. The girls were all attractive. She focused on Stephanie. Her heart sank. While the other girls were attractive, Stephanie was beautiful. In full makeup, with her hair professionally styled for the
shoot and the clothing fitting her body perfectly, she outdazzled the others like an exotic flower.

“What’s up?” Raina asked.

“Stephanie,” Kathleen said quietly. “How can I compete against someone who looks like her?”

Raina took Kathleen’s shoulder and turned her till they stood face to face. Kathleen lowered the binoculars as Raina said, “Now, listen up. I don’t know why you feel inferior to that girl. She’s vain, shallow and probably has gotten everything she wants just because she’s pretty.”

“So what’s your point?”

“Pretty
doesn’t make for
better
. I’ve met her, and you’re head and shoulders above her in every way.”

“That’s nice of you to say, but we both know that pretty counts in life. Boys go after the pretty ones. I remember how they hit on you from sixth grade on. Until Hunter came along, that is,” Kathleen added hastily.

Raina’s expression went stony at the mention of the boyfriends who had preceded Hunter, and Kathleen regretted her words instantly. Still, it was the truth—boys had clustered around Raina like bees around a honeycomb. “Sorry. I only meant to say that boys like pretty girls and you’re pretty, and you always have been.”

“But it’s
you
that Carson is coming after.”

“Then why hasn’t he called me?”

“Who knows why guys do anything? Why don’t you call him?”

“I wouldn’t know what to say to him.”

“Wouldn’t you think of something to say if he called you?”

“I—I guess.”

“Then I rest my case. If he’s not here today helping at the ice cream party, call him.”

Kathleen said nothing but raised the binoculars and twirled the focus wheel toward the photo shoot. Without warning, Stephanie’s face came into full view, filling up the lenses and looking for all the world as if she were staring straight into Kathleen’s eyes. Kathleen gasped, jerked the binoculars away from her face, thrust them into Raina’s hands and fled the room.

A number of canvas canopies had been set up in the hospital’s garden area along the walkways on the south grounds. Under each stood tables for games and activities to amuse and entertain the pediatric patients. There were face painting, fortune-telling, magnetic fishing games, finger painting and plaster hand casting. One special canopy hung above picnic tables with brightly colored table cloths, a popcorn machine, a cotton candy machine, a slush maker and a large cooler holding tubs of ice cream.

“Some spread,” Kathleen said as she and Raina pushed two kids in wheelchairs along the path.

“Mom said some grateful father is paying the bill this year,” Raina told her. “She also told me that sometimes the Pink Angels have fundraisers for these parties. They have a big one at Christmas. Can you imagine being stuck in the hospital over the holidays?”

“I guess we’ll be helping at the Christmas party, then, won’t we? I mean, since we’re signing on for the extended program.”

“You too?” Raina asked, surprised. “I wasn’t sure you would. I mean, you really weren’t that crazy about the idea when we started.”

Kathleen shrugged. “I’ve changed my mind. The place grows on you and besides, it’s a credit.”

“Hey, wait up!” Holly called from behind them. Both girls turned to see her pushing a small boy in a wheelchair. “This is Ben,” she said with a beaming smile. “He’s my date this afternoon.”

Ben had large, luminous blue eyes and a head of curly blond hair. Kathleen waved, but Ben looked away shyly. She introduced her wheelchair patient, Darla, an eight-year-old girl with a compound ankle fracture set in a cast to her knee. Raina introduced Sally, a seven-year-old whose burned hands were wrapped in gauze.

“Your date, huh?” Raina said.

“It was the only way I could get him to come,” Holly whispered to her friends.

“How about some face painting?” Raina asked.

Raina’s and Kathleen’s charges agreed enthusiastically. Ben remained quiet.

They went over to the tables and after parking the chairs, each girl grabbed a brush and a tray of watercolors. “What would you like me to paint?” Raina asked Darla.

“How about you, Ben?” Holly asked. “Anything special?” His little shoulders rose in a shrug. “How about a bear?”

“You can draw a bear?” Raina looked skeptical.

Holly grinned. “Decals. For the artistically challenged.” She picked through an assortment on the table until she found a smiling bear cub.

But Darla wouldn’t hear of such a shortcut. She wanted Kathleen to hand-paint a flower on her face. And so did Sally. The girls set to work. Kathleen was leaning close, concentrating on painting the flower’s petals, when Darla said, “You sure have a lot of freckles.”

Kathleen sighed. “I know. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have so many.”

Darla kept staring. After a time she said, “I like them.”

“Really?”

“I like them too.” Carson’s voice so startled Kathleen, she almost dropped the brush. “Nice work,” he said.

“I—I didn’t know you were here.”

“I’m dishing ice cream.” He motioned toward
the cooler. “I do it every year. It’s fun and the kids like it.”

She wouldn’t have expected it of him. He’d been invisible ever since their date and now suddenly, here he was, looking at her with his heart-stopping grin and sexy brown eyes. She would have liked to ignore him but couldn’t. “How nice of you,” she said coolly.

“I’m on a break right now. I saw you and figured I’d invite you over for an ice cream sundae. You
are
planning on eating ice cream, aren’t you?”

“It’s up to Darla.”

Darla glanced between them. “Do you like each other?”

“I like her,” Carson said. “Why do you ask?”

“ ’Cause her face is all red.”

Kathleen could have slid through her chair’s slats. “I think I’m finished with your flower, Darla,” she said crisply, setting the brush in a jar of water.

“Then I want ice cream,” Darla said.

“Smart choice,” Carson said, and winked.

“Don’t you want to play some games first?” Kathleen asked.

“No, I want ice cream. But I want him to get it for me. I like chocolate with candy sprinkles.”

“He’s on break,” Kathleen said.

“Break’s over.” Carson grinned down at Darla. “Your flower looks terrific.”

Kathleen glanced at Raina and Holly, hoping they’d come with her. Raina said, “I’m still working on a masterpiece here.”

“Me too,” Holly said.

Kathleen almost shouted,
“How hard is it to put on a bear decal?”
but decided against it. “Okay,” she said to Darla. “Ice cream it is.”

They followed Carson, who went behind the cart to stand with another server while they got in line. He made a production out of creating their sundaes. Minutes later, the three of them were sitting at a table with their ice cream concoctions. “I thought you were working,” Kathleen said, still feeling testy.

“Still on break. Do you mind if I sit with you?”

“I don’t mind,” Darla said, giving him a decidedly adoring look.

He didn’t wait for Kathleen’s vote.

While Carson and Darla chatted amiably about Darla’s injury, Kathleen concentrated on her dish of ice cream. She also watched Darla’s little face light up while she talked to Carson and realized that all females were susceptible to his charms, regardless of age. This was his gift—to wind girls around his little finger. Kathleen did a slow burn, disgusted with herself for falling for him.

She was thinking of ways to blow him off and
put him down when she heard “I’m finished. Are you?”

The question came from Stephanie, who had materialized behind Darla’s chair, holding a clothing bag over one shoulder and a makeup kit in her hand.

Kathleen choked on a bite of ice cream and all thoughts of dissing Carson fled.

“Not yet,” Carson told Stephanie, without even looking up.

With a jolt, Kathleen realized he’d been expecting her.

Stephanie said, “It’s been a long day for me. When will you be ready?” As usual, Stephanie looked through Kathleen as if she were a pane of glass.

Carson turned to Kathleen. “I lost my car privileges for a week, so I caught a ride with Steffie today.”

“And now Steffie’s ready to go,” Stephanie said.

“But I’m not. I’m here to help and I’ve got work to do.”

“You don’t look very busy.”

“You can ride with me and my friends,” Kathleen blurted out without thinking.

Carson considered the offer before asking, “Are you sure? I live out of your way.”

“Absolutely.” She wasn’t sure at all and
realized that she’d just committed Raina’s car to a trip across town. She didn’t care. At the moment all that mattered was besting Stephanie.

Carson told Stephanie, “Go on without me.”

Kathleen held her breath and watched Carson and Stephanie engage in a silent battle of wills. There was something between them, an undercurrent she’d felt before but couldn’t read. In the end, Stephanie turned and walked away without another word.

“I’d better get busy.” Carson stood and stretched as if nothing had happened. “Where should we meet?”

Kathleen’s mind was racing. What was she going to say to Raina? “I’ll meet you in the main lobby after we get all the kids back up to the floor.”

“I’ll be waiting.” He gave Darla a smile and a light tug on a hank of her hair. “Nice to share ice cream with you. You get that ankle well, and no more skateboarding tricks.”

“Bye, Carson.” After Carson had returned to the cart, Darla looked at Kathleen. “Do you know that girl?”

“Sort of.”

“She isn’t very nice.”

Kathleen suppressed a smile. She couldn’t have agreed more.