Say Good-bye (7 page)

Maggie and I instantly stop fighting.

“Hi, Gran,” I say cheerfully. “What’s up?”

“I can hear you both howling like wet cats all the way inside the clinic!” she says.

“It’s Zoe’s fault,” Maggie instantly replies. “She’s—”

“Maggie’s being rude,” I insist.

“Hold it!” Gran holds up both hands in front of her. “I’ve had enough of you two fighting. Maggie, inside.”

“But, Gran—”

“Now. Before you two say things you’ll be sorry about later.”

Maggie sulks and heads toward the house. “Sherlock, come!”

When the basset hound follows instantly, Maggie shoots me a triumphant look. Then they disappear inside the house.

Gran turns toward me.

“I’m sorry, Gran, but Maggie is just so—”

“Why don’t you take a walk, Zoe.”

“But, Gran—”

“Take a walk, Zoe. It’ll do you good. And take Sneakers with you. On a leash. That’s the only way to train a dog.”

With a sigh, I find Sneakers’ leash. At least I don’t have to put up with Maggie’s put-downs anymore.

Then Sneakers and I take off. I’m so charged up, I walk really fast. Sneakers seems to enjoy it. We walk for twenty minutes without slowing down.

I decide to stop by Jane’s salon to see how she and Yum-Yum are doing.

When I walk by the window, Jane comes to the door and waves to me. Her eyes look red, as if she’s been crying. But she gives me a smile. “Come on in.”

I start to tie Sneakers to a bike rack out front, but Jane calls out, “Oh, don’t be silly. This is a dog-friendly salon. Bring him in!”

“Are you sure?”

Jane nods and waves us in. “Sure I’m sure. Come on inside!”

Sneakers and I go in.

“I was just sweeping up from my last customer,” Jane says as she picks up the broom. She’s already swept up a huge pile of silvery blond hair.

“It’s almost enough to make another Yum-Yum,” I joke—without thinking.

Jane just smiles wistfully as she sweeps the hair into a dustpan. “Listen, Zoe,” she says as she dumps the hair in the trash. “I talked to the staff of the children’s hospital. I—I’d like to take Yum-Yum in to say good-bye to the kids because…” She forces a cheerful smile. “Because it might be a while before he can go back to see all his fans.”

“I’m sure they’ll be glad to see him,” I say.

Jane nods, then cocks her head to one side and stares at Sneakers. “You know, Zoe, Sneakers is really so cute. And look how well he’s behaving.”

It’s true. He’s sitting there beside me like a true little gentleman. It’s probably because he’s worn out from our walk, but I don’t mention that.

“You know what we could do?”

“What?”

She shrugs casually. “We could take Sneakers along to the hospital with us.”

“Sneakers?” I say in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding!”

Jane laughs. “Yes, Sneakers. He’s a wonderful dog, and I think he has real potential. Normally you have to take a dog through a training program before he’s allowed to go into the hospital on a regular basis,” Jane explains. “But the folks on the children’s ward are pretty happy to get any kind of help in cheering up those kids. I don’t think they’d mind a quick little visit, just to see if you and Sneakers like it. Who knows? You might decide you want to do formal training. Come on—what do you think?”

What do I think? I’m not sure. I look at that rascal Sneakers and wonder if he can do it. If I can do it.

But then Sneakers barks, and the sound is so cheerful and full of life.

Maybe he could do some good. Maybe he could even make Emma laugh.

Wouldn’t that show Maggie and Gran!

“Come on, Sneakers!” I say. “Let’s give it a try!”

•  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •

W
hat a cute little dog!” Nurse Bennett says when we arrive at the hospital. “You know, we usually only let in trained therapy pets. Although sometimes we let parents bring in a child’s pet.”

“We won’t stay long,” Jane says. “But if things go well, we might have a new therapy dog in training here.”

“That we can sure use!” Nurse Bennett says. “All right, just this once.”

I cross my fingers for luck and smile down at my dog. So far Sneakers is behaving perfectly, copying Yum-Yum’s every move. Yum-Yum is
trying his best to put on a good show, but he seems a little tired.

“Do you have any advice on how I should talk to the kids about Yum-Yum’s cancer?” Jane asks.

“Well, we’ve broken the news to them already,” Nurse Bennett says. “They’re pretty upset about it. But these kids have seen it all. So mostly, I’d say just answer their questions honestly.”

I brace myself for a really sad time.

But as we walk down the hall, kids stream out of their rooms to greet Yum-Yum. They’ve made him get-well cards and posters. Everyone seems to want to hold him and talk to him and give him advice about his treatment.

Jane is as amazed as I am. “I guess in some ways, they feel even closer to Yum-Yum than before—since they share the same disease.”

The kids are happy to meet Yum-Yum’s “good buddy Sneakers,” too. I cross my fingers again. So far Sneakers is behaving himself—and loving all the attention. He doesn’t bark much, and it doesn’t seem to bother him at all to have lots of kids petting him and trying to hug him.

I look around for Emma Morgan. I want to try to talk to her again. I want her to meet Sneakers.

I see her across the room, in her usual spot. But instead of staring out the window, she’s looking at me—waiting for me. I wave and start to go over, but a little girl steps in front of me and yanks on my shirt. I realize it’s the same little girl who put clips in Yum-Yum’s hair.

“Hi, Stephanie.”

“Hi … um, what was your name?”

“Zoe. Remember I came with Yum-Yum a few days ago?”

She nods sadly. “I’m so sorry that Yum-Yum is sick.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

Then Stephanie’s face lights up. “Do you think Sneakers would let me brush him?” she asks. “Do you think he’d let me put some clips in his hair?”

I smile at the little girl. I remember being her age. I remember being obsessed with brushing and braiding and doing all kinds of things to my dolls’ hair. Sometimes my mom even used to let me do weird experiments on her hair.

But Stephanie doesn’t have any hair to braid.

Actually, Sneakers doesn’t have that much, either. Not like Yum-Yum. “Well, Sneakers’ hair
is pretty short,” I say. “I don’t know if the clips will stay in.”

Stephanie cocks her head and thinks a minute. “I know!” She takes a purple scrunchie and loops it over Sneakers’ left ear. She slips a hot-pink one onto his tail. “Sneakers!” she squeals. “You’re bee-yoo-ti-ful!”

Sneakers runs around in a circle, trying to catch the bright pink cloth on his tail.

Stephanie chases him.

Another little girl sees them and joins in the game.

Sneakers is getting excited. He jumps up on one of the nurses.

“Down, Sneakers!” I tell him.

But he won’t listen. The more I call him, it seems, the more he ignores me.

He runs up to the nurses’ desk with kids chasing after him.

Oh, no!
He’s not going to… “No! Sneakers!”

He tinkles right in the middle of the floor.

“I’m so sorry,” I say to Nurse Bennett, and I can feel my face turning bright red. “Do you have any paper towels?”

She shakes her head. “I’ll take care of it.” She
sighs and glances at Jane. “Sorry, Jane, but… maybe it would just be best for you to take Sneakers outside.”

I’m totally embarrassed. I glance back at Emma. She has turned her chair away from the whole scene. She won’t look at either dog.

She won’t even wave good-bye.

•  •  •  •  •  •  •

As Jane and I walk back to the car with our dogs, I apologize over and over.

“Don’t be silly,” she says. “He just got excited, that’s all. But you see, that’s why the special training is so important. If you and Sneakers take the formal training classes, you and he will learn how to behave in all kinds of new situations.”

Jane is being so nice, but I feel so humiliated. Sneakers and I aren’t like Jane and Yum-Yum—we’re a terrible team. And I don’t see therapy training in our future at all.

“Promise me one thing,” I beg her as I slink into the car. “Don’t tell Maggie or Gran!”

•  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •

I
t’s an hour-long drive to the university vet hospital where Jane is taking Yum-Yum for cancer treatments. Gran said she wished she could go with Jane, but she’s got her hands full at the clinic, with Dr. Gabe on vacation. So I volunteered to go.

I hold Yum-Yum in my lap as we drive out of town and into the country, past rolling hills and old family farms.

I notice round, colorful folk-art designs on signs over the doors of some of the barns. “What are those things?” I ask.

“Pennsylvania Dutch hex signs,” she explains.
“Aren’t they beautiful? The Germans brought them over from the Old Country. They’re supposed to keep away evil spirits.”

We could use a good-luck charm like that ourselves today.

Yum-Yum squirms a little, as if he can’t get comfortable. I stroke him softly, and he seems to settle down.

I try to entertain Jane, to keep her from worrying. I tell her about what it was like living in Manhattan, a place she’s only seen on television and in the movies. “I wish you could meet my mom,” I say. “You’d really like her.”

“I feel like I know her already.”

“How?” I ask, puzzled.

“From watching her soap on TV, silly!” Jane laughs. “I tuned in to watch the show when your grandmother first told me about Rose being on TV. Then I got so hooked on the show, I couldn’t stop watching! I always used to have it on in my shop, and all my customers got stuck on it, too.” Jane shakes her head and smiles. “I’ll never forget that first episode. Rose only had a few lines that day, but your grandmother and I gave her a standing ovation. J.J. was so proud of her!”

“Really?” I say. “I didn’t know that.” I don’t
think my mom knows that, either. Somehow I always got the feeling that Gran didn’t approve of Mom’s acting.

“You look just like her,” Jane says.

That makes me smile.

Jane sighs. “The day the last episode ran, a couple of my regulars and I just sat in front of the TV and cried. We couldn’t believe they’d canceled that show.”

“I couldn’t believe it, either,” I say softly.

Jane shoots me a quick glance, then reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Tough break for you, too, huh, kiddo?” she says.

I nod. “It’s hard…” I don’t finish my sentence, but Jane seems to understand what I mean.

“Don’t worry,” she says cheerfully. “Your mom’s young and gorgeous, and unlike a lot of those soap stars, she can actually act. She’ll get something fabulous going before you know it, and then the two of you will be back together again.” She pats my hand, then says with a little catch in her voice, “Meanwhile, Yum-Yum and I are really glad you’re here.”

And it hits me—even though I miss Mom really badly, I’m glad I’m here, too.

Glancing down, I realize that Yum-Yum has
fallen asleep, and I study the little dog in my arms. He looks the same as always—tiny and plump, with a cute little nose half hidden by long, silky hair. I brushed him well today before coming so he’d look his best. Jane dressed him up with a bright red bow.

If I didn’t already know how sick he is, there’d be no way to tell from looking at him. It’s hard to imagine the illness spreading secretly through his body.

Maybe he’s not all that sick yet. Maybe we’ve caught it early, and they’ll be able to make him well. I make a wish on all the hex signs we pass along the way.

•  •  •  •  •  •  •

Finally we reach the cancer center. As we get out of the car, I can tell Jane is nervous.

“Don’t worry, Jane,” I say as I gently pass Yum-Yum into her arms. “Gran says the doctors here are the best.”

Jane shakes her head. “J.J.’s the best. But if she recommends these folks, I’m sure they’ll be great.”

Inside we check in at the front desk, then get sent to a waiting area. It’s a lot like the waiting
room at Gran’s—only much, much bigger. Lots of people are waiting with their pets. Some of the animals don’t look sick at all. Others look tired and weak.

I wonder what’s wrong with them. I wonder if some of them have cancer like Yum-Yum.

At last a tall woman in a white coat comes out to meet us. “Ms. Young?”

Jane looks scared. “Yes?”

“Hi, I’m Dr. Edwards. I understand you’re a friend of J.J. MacKenzie’s.” She holds out a hand for Yum-Yum to sniff. “And Dr. Mac’s taking care of little Yum-Yum here, huh?”

Yum-Yum wags his tail and licks Dr. Edwards’s hand.

Jane seems to relax. I guess she thinks if Dr. Edwards passes the Yum-Yum test, she’s all right.

When Dr. Edwards looks over at me, I hold out my hand. “I’m Zoe, Dr. Mac’s granddaughter.

Dr. Edwards smiles and takes my hand. “I’m glad to meet you. Your grandmother is a good friend—and a great vet. Well, come on. Let’s have a look at Yum-Yum.”

The patient room is a lot like the one back at Gran’s
clinic. Somehow I expected a top cancer treatment center to look more high-tech—more like
Star Trek
or something. But as Gran told me once, “Medicine is in the minds and hands of the doctors and nurses—not in the clinic’s interior design.”

Dr. Edwards examines Yum-Yum with quick, sure hands, feeling all over his body, the way Gran did. She takes his temperature and some blood samples.

“I’d like to do a fine-needle biopsy of one of Yum-Yum’s lymph nodes,” Dr. Edwards says.

“Can I stay while you do it?” Jane asks.

“Sure,” she replies.

They don’t ask me, but since Jane is clutching my hand so tightly it’s cutting off my circulation, I figure I’ll stay.

Dr. Edwards explains that this biopsy can be done while Yum-Yum is awake. While Jane holds him, Dr. Edwards inserts a thin needle into one of the lymph nodes. She explains that as she pulls up on the syringe, it removes some of the cells, which she can then examine under a microscope.

I can’t believe how good Yum-Yum is through the whole thing.