How Do I Love Thee (14 page)

“I asked them to watch the event with some of their friends, which they were happy to do. My moods haven't been the best these days. I really hate them hovering over me.”

“They want to be close to you, Steve, for as long as possible. I know the feeling.”

He studied her face. “Bobby's lucky to have you. I'd be hard-pressed to know what to do if—well, if things were different for me.”

She would find it difficult too. She couldn't begin to wrap her mind around a life with no Steve at all.

The Brain Bowl started; she turned up the sound. “Bobby looks good on TV,” she said.

“He's scared stiff,” Steve said. “I can tell by the way he's clenching his jaw.”

Knowing Bobby's habit too, Dana smiled, “He does it when he's scared or anxious.”

They watched as Bobby's team fired off correct answers and pulled ahead of its opponents. Bobby answered many of the questions himself, doing complicated math equations in his head. “He's so smart,” Steve said when the
competition took-a station break. “It blows me away.”

“And you're so athletic,” Dana said.

“Too bad we didn't each get a little of what the other had.”

“No, it isn't. Then you'd both be just average instead of brilliant in two separate ways.”

Steve squeezed her hand. “You're brilliant too. I wish I could listen to you play the piano. It helps, you know, when I hurt really bad.”

She was touched. “I'll make you some tapes.”

“Not as good as the real thing, but that'll have to do. I wish I could hear you play in April.”

“Don't worry—my parents will videotape the whole thing. You'll see the performance.”

He toyed with a strand of her hair. “When this is over for me—”

“Don't talk that way.”

“Dana, it's going to be over.” Tears welled in her eyes, and he wiped them with his fingertip. “I want you to know that without you, I'd never have made it this long.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he
shushed her. “Thank you for loving me, Dana. Thank you with all my heart.”

She held him, pressing her face into his chest. In the background, she heard the Brain Bowl commentator declare her high school's team the winner. She heard Steve say, “Way to go, Bobby!” She knew Bobby would be giving his teammates high fives and holding the trophy up to the camera. She knew all these things but couldn't look because being held by Steve was the sum total of her existence at that moment. She kissed him and was consumed by the eerie sensation that she would not be alone with him again, that this would be their last kiss.

Bobby came home a hero. The principal ordered a pep rally in the gym, where the Brain Bowl team was treated to an hour of skits by classmates and praise from the faculty. Dana sat in the bleachers and cheered along with Bobby's parents, who'd been invited for the celebration. Steve arrived in a wheelchair, and Bobby made a speech saying that it was Steve's example of excellence that had always spurred him on. Dana did not make eye contact with
Steve because she knew she could not have kept from sobbing uncontrollably.

The silver trophy was placed in the glass case usually reserved for athletic awards next to the principal's office. Bobby's name was engraved ahead of die others on the trophy because he'd been the team captain. The same afternoon, Bobby received a scholarship offer from Cal Tech. “Can you believe it?” he shouted to Dana over the phone. “They're offering me
a full
ride, Dana. All expenses paid as long as I maintain a B-plus average.”

“No problem,” she said.

“Even my old man's impressed.”

“I'm happy for you, Bobby. You deserve the best.”

“I already have the best,” he said. “I have you.”

She felt a stab of guilt. “Take the scholarship.”

“That's what Steve told me to do too. But I can't leave until—well, until.”

Until Steve is gone
, Dana finished in her mind.
Neither of us con.

At six the next morning, Dana's phone rang. She grabbed the receiver, her heart pounding
because she knew it would not be good news. “Yes,” she said, holding her breath.

“It's me.” Bobby's voice cracked. “The paramedics just left.” There was a long pause. “Steve died in his sleep during the night. They said he had a stroke and that he went without pain. That's a good thing, isn't it? “

Dana's throat had closed up and she couldn't speak.

“My brother's dead, Dana. What are we going to do without him? “

he humid heat of late August settled around Dana, and the scent of the last of her mother's blooming roses drifted in the air. She sat on her front porch reading the book of poetry Steve had given her for Christmas. Four months had passed since his death—four months, three weeks, and two days. She had missed him on every single one of those days. She smoothed her hand across the page of the poem Steve had marked as his favorite, “How Do I Love Thee.” She'd read it so many times that she could recite it from memory. It would always be her favorite too.

In another week, she would leave for New
York and for Juilliard. She hadn't gotten a scholarship in the spring. She'd played well in the state competitions, walking away with Superiors and Excellents from the judges, but it hadn't been enough. Still, she was going to the college that it had been her lifelong dream to attend, and her parents were happy because they believed she was happy. She
was
, in a way, but she also knew that Juilliard was never going to hold the importance it had once held for her. Her life had been forever changed by a love she'd experienced for a man who'd died. The poem spoke eloquently of all she felt.

She heard the crunch of tires in her driveway and looked up to see Bobby getting out of his car. Quickly she tucked the book beneath the cushion on the porch swing and rose to welcome him. “How's it going?” she asked. “All packed?”

“All packed.” He came onto the porch, kissed her lightly, and returned with her to the swing. “The trailer is full, and Dad's raring to go. I still can't believe we're driving all the way to California together.” He rolled his eyes. “Six whole days in a car with Dad. It's going to seem like forever.”

“You'll talk.”

“About what? Ever since Steve—” Bobby interrupted himself. “I know Dad's trying, but we don't have too much in common.”

“You have Steve. And your dad's proud of you, Bobby. I think he's trying to make up for lost years.”

Bobby grinned. “You still work hard to make everything right and everybody happy, don't you, Dana?”

“Old habit, I guess.”

They had finished the school year as a couple, but things were not the same between them. Dana realized that she had created the sense of distance, but there was nothing she could do about it. Luckily, Bobby had been busy. He'd gotten a job as soon as school was out to earn spending money for college. He came by now and then, even took her out occasionally. To her surprise, he hadn't griped or complained about their lack of togetherness, just made himself available if she wanted to be with him. Winning the scholarship had gone a long way toward building his self-confidence; he seemed more at peace, more self-assured and settled. She was glad about that.

“Do you want some lemonade? There's a pitcher in the kitchen—”

“No, I can't stay. Dad wants to head out early. I came to say goodbye.”

The very word hit her hard and caused her eyes to mist over.

“Hey, those aren't for me, are they?”

She shrugged. “Maybe for a lot of things.”

“I'll see you at Christmas when I come home.”

“I'm doing a short concert tour at Christmas,” Dana said. “We'll be in Europe.”

Bobby looked resigned. “Then maybe next summer.”

She nodded. He stood and so did she. He took her by the elbows and gazed deeply into her eyes. “One of the reasons I came over tonight was to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being my girl this past year. It meant everything to have you stick by me… through Steve and all. I know you didn't have to, that you could have cut out, but you didn't.”

The truth sprang to her lips. She should tell him about her and Steve. Except that she knew
it would serve no good purpose except to unburden her conscience. It would hurt Bobby, and hadn't it been her goal from the very beginning to
not
hurt Bobby? He'd been hurt enough by the loss of his brother. She swallowed the truth. “You made it easy forme,” she said.

“Because Fm so adorable?” he asked, mischief twinkling in his eyes.

“Totally adorable.”

“I love you,” he said, growing serious.

She couldn't say those words to him, not now, so she rose on her toes and kissed him. “You take care of yourself. Write me, you hear? Tell me all about sunny California.”

“And you write me about New York. I may never get there myself.” He slipped his hand into his back pocket and pulled out a partly crumpled envelope. “Read this after Fm out of here, and know that I mean every word of it.”

She took the sealed envelope, then watched him spring down the porch steps and get into his car. He waved as he backed out of her driveway. Returning to the swing, she tore open the envelope. In the fading evening light, she read his message. Her breath caught. Her
heart tripped a beat. She jumped up and ran to the edge of the porch in time to see his tail-lights disappear around the corner.

Trembling, Dana pressed Bobby's letter against her breast. She gathered her composure and read it again.

Tears blurred Dana's vision. All the while she had thought she was protecting Bobby, when in actuality it had been the other way around. And yes, Bobby was correct, she had loved them both.

Dana felt the lifting of her own sense of guilt, and she wondered which of them had given the other one the greater gift. She couldn't say. All she knew was that she felt honored to have been Bobby's girl. She would tell him that one day when the pain might not be so fresh for either of them.

She held up the letter to read the final sentences, written in Bobby's neat, precise handwriting.

BOOK THREE
Laura's Heart