True Love (17 page)

“What do you mean?”

“I’m having his radiologist look over some
X rays and test results, and I’ve ordered a bone marrow aspiration.”

Julie felt sick to her stomach, as if someone had punched her. She heard Nancy say, “But he just had that battery of tests at St. Paul’s in Chicago last month.”

“No he didn’t.” Dr. Portage closed the chart he’d been holding and looked at Luke’s mother gravely. “I called and asked for some of his records to be sent over. His last checkup at St. Paul’s was in June.”

Julie reeled at the news. That was before she and Luke had gone to Los Angeles. “But he said he’d been checked,” she blurted. “He told me he’d gone by train and gotten his checkup.”

“Well, he didn’t,” Dr. Portage said. “According to their records, he never went.”

“Why did you lie to me, Luke?”

Julie watched Luke’s face as his mother asked her question. He looked ashamed and pale. Ghostly pale. “I rescheduled my appointment, that’s all. I was feeling good and so I figured I could postpone it for a while. I would have gone as soon as football season was over.”

“Football season! Since when is football more important than your health?”

He looked helplessly at Julie, who struggled to hold back tears. “Everybody was expecting so much from me. I—I didn’t want to let them down.”

“Who would you have let down? Everybody knew you’d been sick. Nobody held you accountable.”

“Mom, please, I’m not up to fighting about this. I feel awful right now.”

Nancy’s expression didn’t soften, but before she could speak, Dr. Portage called her out of the room and Julie found herself alone with Luke. She crossed her arms and dabbed at her eyes. “I would have skipped my SATs and gone with you, if you’d asked,” she told him. “Why didn’t you ask me?”

“I told you, I would have gone later.”

“Did my dad put pressure on you? Because if he did—”

“Julie, stop it. Everybody put pressure on me! Don’t you understand?”

“
I
didn’t pressure you. I only want you to play football because it means so much to
you
.”

Luke pulled himself up and hoisted his legs over the side of the bed, grunting in discomfort.
He took a few deep breaths and stared at Julie, his dark eyes made darker by the paleness of his skin. He looked miserable. “It’s true you never pressured me to play ball, but you put plenty of pressure on me to be well.”

“How? When? I never did.”

“You tell me all the time, ‘Now that you’re over cancer,’ and, ‘You’re fine … time to get on with your life.’ ”

Stricken by his words, stunned by his accusation, Julie began to recall all the times she’d said such things. “But I was only trying to be positive. I was only trying to encourage you.”

“Don’t you think I want to be well, Julie? Don’t you think I want to be rid of this and be normal? And play ball? And marry you? Don’t you think if being positive would make me well, I would be well?”

Tears spilled down her cheeks as his words fell like blows. “But the tests—”

“I had one good checkup after my radiation treatments. Then I had the best summer of my life, with you, and then I had to face going back for more testing and maybe hearing that I was sick again. And everybody wanted me to be well so much. And
I
wanted it so much.” He hung his head and took deep breaths before continuing. “So it was easy to put off
going for the testing. Maybe I figured what I didn’t know wouldn’t hurt me.”

She ached for him, for herself. “Oh, Luke …”

“I told myself there’d be time to get checkups after the season was over. After the team went to the state finals. I wanted that so bad, Julie. So, I kept playing, kept ignoring what was happening, even when the symptoms started coming back.”

“You’ve been sick?”

He shrugged, refused to meet her gaze. “First it was the fatigue. Then the night sweats. I washed my sheets so Mom wouldn’t know. I knew I was in trouble, but I kept pushing myself. I didn’t want to let anybody down. I didn’t want to find out the truth.”

“That you’re out of remission,” she finished flatly. She felt as if someone had pulled a plug on her emotions and drained them all away.

“Yes.”

“Do you know it for sure?”

He looked up and held her blue eyes with the dark pull of his own. “I know how I feel, Julie; I’ve been here before. And in ER, once they read my chart and saw that I’d been treated for Hodgkin’s, they wanted to do a
bone marrow. That’s not a routine test for a head injury, you know.”

She looked at her hands, at the promise ring that now seemed to mock her, to ridicule all it had stood for between her and Luke. “I’m sorry if I caused you any harm by insisting that you be well. I didn’t mean to make you skip your testing.”

For the first time since they’d been talking, Luke reached out and touched Julie. He smoothed her hair and ran his fingers tenderly along her cheek. “I’m not blaming you. I would never blame you. It was my choice. Coach always taught us to take responsibility.” He offered a humorless chuckle. “No, I knew the chance I was taking; I knew the consequences. All testing would have done was confirm what I already knew.”

Fresh tears spilled from Julie’s eyes, and slowly Luke took her in his arms, where she sobbed, soaking his hospital shirt. “I love you so much,” she managed between sobs.

“Loving you was all I had to hang on to sometimes. When I’d wake up at night, sweaty and nauseous, I’d remember L.A. and that church, and all the fun. It got me through.”

Julie didn’t know how long she had been clinging to him, but when Nancy and Dr. Portage
returned to the room, she was still in Luke’s arms. She pulled away reluctantly.

“Luke, we need to talk,” Dr. Portage said.

The expression on Nancy’s face told Julie what he was going to say before he spoke.

“There are cancer cells in your bone marrow,” he said.

Luke’s emotion could be seen only in a tightening along his jawline. “So where do I go from here?”

“Back to St. Paul’s. They’ll start looking for a compatible donor via computer in the national marrow registry. Unfortunately, the task is complicated because you have a rare blood type.”

Luke didn’t flinch. “Is that it?”

“They’ll put you back onto chemo maintenance to inhibit the spread as much as possible until a donor’s found.”

“So, I guess this means that I’ll be out for the rest of the season.”

Luke’s attempt at humor brought a thin smile to the doctor’s lips. “Shall I write a note to your coach excusing you from play?”

“How about if you write one to God instead? Tell him to find me a donor.” Luke pulled Julie closer to him. “Tell him I don’t want to die.”

L
uke went back to St. Paul’s long enough to have his chemo device implanted and his dose regulated. Upon returning home, he doggedly started school again, and his baseball hat once more became a familiar sight in the halls and classrooms.

News of his need for a bone marrow donor made the front page in the local paper and was picked up by the Associated Press national news service. He got calls, offers of money, requests for TV interviews—everything except a compatible donor. He asked for nothing, preferring to stay out of the limelight. By fielding calls and running interference, Coach Ellis saw to it that Luke and his mother weren’t hounded.

At school, Frank rallied the football team, as well as the student body, and he and Solena
initiated a bone marrow testing day. A doctor and three nurses came from St. Paul’s with syringes and vials for blood samples, along with permission slips. Most of the students lined up after school to have their blood tested for a possible match.

Coach Ellis was first in line. Julie was second. It touched her, seeing the support and caring Luke inspired in their classmates. The paper covered that event also, but she couldn’t bring herself to read the stories. They left her sad and depressed. And scared. For she knew that a bone marrow transplant was Luke’s only hope for survival; he was getting sicker and balder and more gaunt from the chemo and the relentless advance of his cancer, and time, Julie knew, was running out for him. A donor had to be found—and found soon.

As October faded into November, Luke was able to attend school less and less. On the days he did come, Frank picked him up and Julie drove him home. Yet he rarely wanted to go home until they visited the new stadium, which was now almost fully constructed. Even on cold, blustery days, he insisted on going. Julie would take his hand and they’d slowly climb the new bleachers, sit, and gaze down at the field.

“I sure wish I could play football again,” Luke said wistfully one November afternoon.

“If those doctors find a donor in time, you will,” Julie answered.

“Don’t you ever give up?”

“No. And neither should you.”

He entwined his fingers with hers. “When you’re up against a superior enemy, sometimes it’s okay to bow out gracefully,” he said quietly.

She whirled to face him. “I hate it when you talk so negatively. A donor
will
be found. And you
will go
to college and play football.”

“Come on,” he chided. “I don’t like arguing with you.” He managed one of his endearing grins. “I’m a lover, not a fighter. Remember?”

She returned her gaze to the barren, muddy field, where large clumps of dirt were riddled with bulldozer tracks. It looked brown and ugly, making it hard for her to imagine the field flat and thick with a carpet of grass. “Yes you are too a fighter. I’ve seen you fight to win in many a football game. And to me, your life is much more worth fighting for than any game.”

“I
am
fighting for my life, Julie. I fight for it every day.”

“But you talk about losing the fight, and that really scares me.”

“I can’t win every game I play.”

“It’s being on the chemo, Luke. It’s getting you discouraged. Once you’re off it, you’ll feel better about everything.”

“I promise: I won’t give up.” He toyed with a strand of her long hair.

Thoroughly depressed, Julie changed the subject. “Our last home game’s in two weeks. Will you come? Dad wants you to.”

“I’m coming,” he said. “I started the season with the team, and I want to finish with them.”

Without Luke, the Warriors had lost their heart to win and had quickly slipped from their number one ranking as what had been their most brilliant season turned to dust.

On the night of the game, Julie and her family picked up Luke and his mother in a specially equipped van. Too weak to walk, Luke had been given a wheelchair. “Are you sure you’re up to coming?” Coach asked.

Luke settled his baseball cap and told him, “Yes. I want to go.” Luke’s clothes hung on him. His once-powerful physique had melted away and his body had turned skeletal as the war against cancer raged within him. Julie reminded
herself that he’d regained his form after his first bout with chemo was complete and that she should have every hope it would happen again.

They drove in silence to the game and, once there, Coach Ellis positioned Luke on the field, along the sidelines, at the end of the Warriors’ bench. When the team filed onto the field, each player stepped in front of Luke’s wheelchair, removed his helmet, and shook Luke’s hand. Julie watched from the stands, a lump in her throat, as Luke gave every player a high five, a smile, a few words.

And at halftime, she watched her father push Luke’s wheelchair out to the middle of the field while the announcer recited his football exploits and the bright field lights glinted off the polished metal of his chair. Cameras flashed as the mayor and superintendent of schools stood with him. The mayor made a brief speech about how much honor Luke had brought to Waterton with his talent. He gave Luke a plaque and then announced, “In your honor, the new high school stadium will be called ‘Luke Muldenhower Stadium,’ and will be formally dedicated as such come spring.”

Julie heard Luke’s mother gasp when the announcement was made and felt Nancy reach
for her hand. Tears were all but blinding Julie, but she held her head high, feeling more pride for Luke than ever. His talent might have brought him fame, but his courage in the face of cancer had brought him honor.

Spring
. Julie wondered if Luke would still be waiting for a donor or if his bone marrow transplant would be history by then.
Spring
. The season of flowers and fresh green grass seemed so far away. They still had the long, harsh Indiana winter to endure. She bowed her head and whispered fervently, “Hurry up, spring.”

“Julie, we need to talk.” Patricia Ellis came into Julie’s room, closing the door behind her.

Julie didn’t mind the interruption. She’d tried valiantly all evening to study for her upcoming finals, but had been unable to concentrate. She turned down the Christmas music playing from the radio on her desk. “What’s up?”

“What are you doing about your acceptances to Tulane and Ohio State?”

“What do you mean? I’m not doing anything about them.”

Her mother looked confused. “You’ve got
to choose one of them. After all, you’re graduating in six months and—”

“Mother!” Julie stood. “What are you thinking? I can’t go off and leave Luke. What if he gets his donor marrow? I need to be here for him.”