A Rose for Melinda (10 page)

TO:
Ballerina Girl
Subject:
New Meds

I'm betting this new drug will be the one! I just feel it deep inside me. I've got my fingers crossed for you.

Got a long letter from my dad saying how much he wants me to be a part of his family. He says that Donna's boys are like sons to him, but I'm his REAL son and that makes him proud. I want to say, “Well, how about my REAL mother? She's half of me too.” He can't just take the part he wants and forget the part he doesn't want. Life doesn't work that way. I haven't written him back because I honestly don't know what to say. He expects to walk back into my life after all this time and pick up where we left off. It can't be
done. I'm not seven anymore. And he's a different person than the one I worshiped back then.

Write soon,
Jesse

TO:
Jesse
Subject:
Parents

I know what you're saying. There was a time when I thought Mom and Dad knew everything, but now I know they don't. Sometimes they look as scared as I feel. That rocked me the first time I realized it. Mom still sleeps here at night. Can you believe it? I've told her it's okay for her to go home and come back the next day. She won't. Then it hit me: She can't make my leukemia go away and this is all she has to offer me. Her presence. So I've stopped telling her I'm fine without her at night. She needs to be here for reasons of her own.

Maybe your dad needs to feel like he's still a part of your life instead of the parent who checked out and missed all those years of you growing
up. Maybe he's trying to make up for what he can't go back and change.

Forgive me. I've been talking to Dr. Sanchez (the shrink) too much! I see deep meaning in everything. Too much time to lie around thinking … that's all.

Philosophically yours,
Melinda

AUDIO
TRANSCRIPTION BY
DR. NEELY FOR INSERTION INTO
MEDICAL FILE OF MELINDA SKYE:

Latest labs indicate that SGX-243 is working for Melinda Skye. There's a dramatic turnaround. Her spinal fluid is clear, her white blood count is near normal, and healthy red cells are proliferating. While I'm heartened by the results, I know the treatment can't be repeated. Let's hope it holds. Submitted: 10:07 P.M. August 20

TO:
All Concerned
Subject:
Success!

Finally. The new drug is turning the tide and we've achieved remission, so it looks as if she'll be able to come home before her birthday. This is a banner day. Elana and I can't wait to get our little girl out of this place, and Melinda can't wait to leave.

We've got a schedule set up for continued chemo over the next six months, but maybe the worst is over and future tests will show that Melinda's cancer-free. I believe she's weathered the storm and permanent remission will be achieved. She's suffered enough and now it's time to pick up our lives, which have been on hold ever since this nightmare began.

Thanks again for your prayers. Keep it up!
Lenny & Elana

MELINDA'S DIARY

August 25

I can't believe I'm sitting in my own bedroom writing this. Everything looks just the way I left it before I took off to Washington, but it's kind of unreal too. I'm so used to the hospital, the nurses' comings and goings, the other kids, the smells of the halls, the rattle of the food carts, the doctors dropping by twice a day. The gang on my floor threw me a little party before we left—very sweet. There were balloons and cupcakes and there was a clown to entertain the little kids. I was the only teen up there and the younger kids looked up to me. Keisha, who's six, even cried, but I promised to visit when I return for my treatments. (Maybe she'll be out by then, I hope, I hope.)

Zorita was sitting on my bed when I got here. Bailey had tied a bow with a bell around her collar and she looked really cute. I think she's forgiven me for leaving her for so long, because she curled up on my pillow like she used to do.

When I think over the last two months, they seem like a bad dream. But they weren't. I know they really happened, because there's a shunt in my chest for the upcoming chemo treatments. It's ugly, but I can hide it under my clothes. I'm tired now and I'm going to bed with my cat.

Elana's Journal

August 25

This will be quick. Part of me is elated to have my baby back in her room down the hall. The other part is scared witless. At the hospital, nurses were close at hand, so if Melinda had any problems I could run and get them. Here, it's only me and Lenny. Maybe only me because Lenny travels so much.

Lenny programmed all the important phone numbers into our telephones and I have lists of emergency measures to take if something I can't handle happens, but still it's frightening to be the sole one in charge. I think Melinda senses my fear and ineptitude.

I pray that everything goes well. Melinda's been through so much … TOO much for a girl who'll be fourteen in a few days. She's changed since June, and seems older, more stoic. I miss my little girl.