Keep Me in Your Heart (42 page)

“I mean it. If this gets out, I’ll leave this place so fast …” She let the implications sink in.

Nathan moved closer, so close he could feel the heat from her body. “What I said earlier, about loving you … this doesn’t change anything.”

She looked incredulous. “I have cancer, Malone. Go find a normal girl.”

“I don’t care. I love you, Lisa. And I’m not splitting. Get used to it.”

Nathan watched Lisa leave Fuller’s class every day, and his heart ached because he knew where she was going. He gritted his teeth when he heard others in their class call her “Diva” or speculate on what she might be doing with Fuller on the side for the privilege of walking out each day. Nathan wanted to hurt them. They were stupid. Mean and stupid. He couldn’t wait for the Christmas holidays to come, because he swore to himself that he would spend every free minute with her.

“Where’s your head, man?” Skeet asked at practices. “This gig is next Saturday and you’re off in la-la land. We need you here, with us.”

“Sorry,” Nathan mumbled, and forced himself to concentrate on the music.

Lisa rarely came to rehearsals, which they had increased to include three afternoons a week. When she did visit, she sat in the shadows. He was careful not to look her way if Skeet went off on him, because he knew she’d think it was her fault.

“Do you
get
that these guys are paying us
money
to be good?” Skeet said. “And that if they like us, it can lead to other gigs?”

“I said I was sorry. Let’s start again.”

The worst was his mother’s prying. “What’s
wrong
with you?” she demanded one night at the dinner table.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t tell me that. It’s like you’ve crawled into some dark cave. If school is too much for you—”

“What’s too much for me is the way you hound me.”

“Don’t talk to your mother like that,” his father ordered.

Their loud voices started Abby crying in her high chair. Seconds later Audrey joined in. “Now look what you’ve done,” his mother snapped. She offered each girl a teething ring.

His father, the peacemaker, said, “Nate, I’ve talked to my boss and they’re making a place for you in the mailroom for the time you’re out of school over the holidays.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t want to work over the holidays.”

“What! I went to bat for you, son. They’re doing this as a favor for me.”

“Dad, I’m sorry, but not this year.”

“You said you needed the money.”

“I’m making a little cash with the band for two parties.”

“Money you’ll have to split four ways. What’s the matter with you? Why are you acting this way?”

Nathan didn’t answer. He stood, wadded his paper napkin. “I’m finished with supper. I’ve got a big paper to do.”

“Don’t walk away from this table,” his mother shouted.

Abby wailed and threw down her teething ring, and Audrey followed suit. Nathan kept moving.

*  *  *

“If this place was any dorkier, we could register it.” The comment came from Larry as the band was setting up on the stage of the VFW in Doraville.

The room was old, tired-looking, with cheap paneled walls, long tables and metal chairs, and an open area around a dusty stage for dancing. Tinsel had been taped on the walls, along with Happy Holidays signs, and gaudy decorations hung on an artificial tree that had seen better days. The American flag, along with banners and photos of VFW members, covered another wall.

“You’ll feel better when they pay us,” Skeet said, flexing his fingers and running chords on his keyboard.

“Did you see the guy who let us in? He’s older than God. I just hope nobody keels over dead tonight,” Larry said.

“I’m like,
so
nervous,” Jodie said. She was wearing jeans and a red shirt with some sequins sewn on the collar and cuffs.

“You’ll be great, babe,” Skeet said.

Nathan said nothing. He tuned his guitar and watched the door. Lisa had promised she would come. The event was scheduled to start in forty-five minutes and she hadn’t shown up, but there was plenty of time.

An elderly man came up to the stage and introduced himself as the president of the group. “You
can
play the old ones, can’t you? The
good
country songs?”

“Jodie here sounds just like Patsy Cline,” Nathan said, his gaze on the door.

“Yes, we like Patsy. And Loretta and Reba too. Real country, you know.”

“We won’t let you down,” Skeet said.

The room began to fill with elderly couples, and the tables grew crowded. The smell of barbecue drifted from the kitchen. At some point the band was introduced, and Nathan and his friends began to play. They were tight and nervous at first, but once Jodie got over her butterflies, they hit a groove and their sound mellowed out. Couples actually began to dance to the music. Everything would have been perfect except that Lisa never arrived. Nathan gave up watching the door and got into the music, torn between loving her and loathing her for jerking him around.

By ten o’clock the guests were gone, and The Heartbreakers were packing up their gear. Skeet said, “This didn’t last long. Maybe we can play to a younger crowd next time.”

“The next one’s a birthday party with a Western theme,” Larry said. “The guy’s turning forty.”

“Not much better.”

Jodie took a swig from a soda. “It’s all right with me. I got to sing.”

“Like an angel,” Skeet said. “You all want to grab some burgers? I’m starved.”

Larry and Jodie agreed enthusiastically.

Nathan was in no mood for socializing. He pushed outside, carrying two guitar cases and a box with a special mike for his acoustical guitar, and headed for his car.

“How’d it go, cowboy?” The question came from Lisa. She was wrapped in a long suede coat and leaning against her bike.

Nathan’s heart leaped with pleasure at the sight of her. He brushed past her, determined not to let her know. How could she stand there so nonchalant, as if she hadn’t known how important their very first paid engagement was to them? “You’re a little late for the party.”

“I’m here to make it up to you. Hop on. I have another party for us to catch.”

He wanted to say,
Forget it
. He wanted to blow her off the way she’d done to him.

“Hey, Lisa.” Jodie came up and hugged her friend. “We were great! Sorry you missed it.”

“I’ll bet you were.”

Not a word of apology
, Nathan thought, but even as he thought it, he locked his gear in his trunk and handed Skeet the keys. “Go on without me.”

“You sure?”

“Park at your house. Like last time.” Nathan got onto Lisa’s bike; she handed him a helmet and started the engine. He settled into the hard leather seat, angry at himself for not being stronger and walking away. Furious. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except being with Lisa. Nothing.

“W
here are we going?” Nathan shouted above the road noise and the sound of the Harley’s engine.

“Fraternity row at Tech.”

Nathan wasn’t sure he liked the idea of hitting a party at Georgia Tech, but he didn’t want to argue with her. She could have gone without him, but she hadn’t.

By the time she parked her cycle on the lawn of a fraternity house, Nathan was cold and not in a great mood. Light poured from every window of the old house, music blared out to the sidewalk, and people spilled onto the lawn in drunken groups. Lisa headed inside and Nathan followed. The smell of booze was strong, and Lisa wasted no time in grabbing them both bottles of beer. “Drink up,” she said, tipping her bottle upward.

Nathan took a sip from his.

“Hey, Lisa, baby! Long time no see.” A guy came up from behind them and swooped Lisa up in his arms. “Where have you been, sweet thing?”

“Around. There are other places to party, you know.” She pulled away, nodded toward Nathan. “Meet a friend of mine.”

The guy glanced toward Nathan. “Any friend of Lisa’s …”

“I got it.”

“You looking over the Greeks?”

“Not yet,” Nathan said.

“Well, this is party central. If you’re into partying, that is.” He put his arm around Lisa’s waist. “And if you’re with Lisa, you
got
to be into partying.” He kissed her cheek, and she shooed him away.

“What?” Lisa said to Nathan, looking irritated.

“Why are you doing this? To show me how cool you are?” He was angry at her and jealous of every guy she had a past with.

“Life’s short.” She turned on her heel and melded into the crowd.

Her words stung. Nathan elbowed his way behind her, caught up with her just as she was heading to dance with some other guy who was nuzzling her neck. Nathan watched and seethed. If she was trying to hurt him, she was succeeding. He didn’t think the song would ever end, and when it did, he shoved through and caught her up under his arm. “Wondered where you got off to.” He told the guy, “I use the head and
next thing you know, I’m dateless. But now I’m here to take her off your hands.”

The guy, who looked glassy-eyed, gave a drunken shrug and staggered off. Lisa said, “Don’t go possessive on me, Malone.”

The music screamed around them. All he wanted to do was get her out of there.

“I need another beer,” she said.

“Take mine.”

She held it against her temple and Nathan saw perspiration prickling her upper lip. Her skin looked pale and clammy, and she was trembling.

“Come with me.” Shielding her, he wove them both through the room to the front door and outside into the chilly night air. She stumbled. He led her across the lawn and away from others. “What’s wrong?” He didn’t figure she’d had enough beer to be drunk, but something was definitely going on with her.

“Go away,” she said. She dropped the bottle, staggered behind a hedge of bushes, and fell to her knees. He heard her vomiting. He plowed through the brush and knelt beside her. “What can I do?”

“Nothing.” Her face was contorted with pain.

“Let me help you.”

She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. “Bad headache.”

Nathan’s gut seized. “Just lie down.” She needed no urging. He ripped off his jacket and made a pillow for her head. He remembered that she’d stuffed her long
coat into a saddlebag on her cycle. “I’ll be right back.” He raced to where they’d left the Harley, quickly pushed it to where she was lying. He could hear her moaning. He fumbled in the saddlebag, grabbed her coat and covered her. “Tell me what to do.”

“Nothing … to … do …,” she managed.

He couldn’t watch her suffer. He rummaged through the bags, pulling out lipstick, a hairbrush and then her cell phone. He found Charlie’s preprogrammed number, punched it. When Charlie answered, Nathan said, “Lisa’s sick. We need help.”

Nathan held Lisa, smoothing her hair and rocking her until Charlie’s pickup arrived at the curb. “Over here!” Nathan shouted. Charlie ran over, scooped up Lisa as if she were a small child, walked her to the truck and laid her on the front seat. “Help me with the cycle,” he said to Nathan.

Together, they lifted the machine into the bed of the pickup and Charlie swiftly secured it. “It happened so fast,” Nathan said. “One minute we were dancing. The next she was in horrible pain.”

“Sit up front and hold her while I drive,” Charlie said.

Nathan did as he was told, all the while his heart hammering with fear. Lisa moaned. “She’ll be all right, won’t she?”

“She needs to go to the ER. Morphine’s the only thing that helps when the headaches are this bad.”

Charlie made record time on the freeway, pulled into the semicircle parking in front of the emergency room at Grady Hospital reserved for ambulances, and lifted Lisa from Nathan’s arms. “Park the truck. Meet me inside.”

By the time Nathan found a space and went inside, Charlie was filling out paperwork in an area crammed with waiting patients. He said, “They took her into triage. They called her doctor. Nothing to do now except wait.”

Charlie turned in the paperwork, returned to the chair Nathan held open for him. They sat side by side, Charlie looking at the floor, Nathan pushed back against the wall. After a few minutes, Nathan said, “How often does this happen to her?”

“The headaches come and go. No pattern. No warning.”

“Does it mean the radiation isn’t helping?”

Charlie glanced over at Nathan. “She’s told you about that?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good. I told her she should.”

“It stinks. Her being sick and all.”

“It does,” Charlie said. “Things went pretty good for a long time. We almost forgot the tumor would grow again.” Charlie’s use of
we
made Nathan aware that Lisa’s mother hadn’t shown up. He wondered about it, but didn’t know how to ask. “If you need to leave—”

“Not until I know she’s okay,” Nathan told him, aware that he was way past his curfew, and not caring.

“It could take a while.”

“I’ll wait.”

At some point, a doctor appeared and talked to Charlie. When he left, Charlie said, “They’re going to keep her for observation.”

“When can she leave?”

“Probably tomorrow. We can go back and see her, though.”

A nurse in green scrubs led them to a curtained-off area. Lisa was on a bed, eyes closed. An IV line was taped to her arm, and the tubing ran to a bag of clear liquid hooked to a pole. To Nathan, she looked childlike, as pale as paste, as fragile as bone china. All he wanted to do was hold her.