Chasing Hope (21 page)

S
abrina climbed into the passenger seat of her mother’s car, stealing a glance at the clutter in the back seat of flower vases, balloons, and assorted posters her friends had brought to her over the course of the last six days. Frederick the polar bear, though, he’d stay in the front with her.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go home, I mean to your real home, instead of going back to Nana’s?” Mom had asked this same question, worded in various ways, several times throughout the morning.

Sabrina shook her head. “I’ve missed so much class already. I can’t afford to miss any more.”

“All right, ladies, let’s get this show on the road.” Sabrina’s father closed the passenger side door behind Sabrina, then held open the back door. Mom could barely fit. He gently closed the door behind her, taking care not to bang her shoulder, then came around to the driver’s side and started the car. He looked toward Sabrina. “I bet it feels pretty good to be getting out of that place, hmm?”

“You have no idea.” Sabrina rested her head back against the seat, thankful that they had chosen to bring Mom’s roomier SUV instead of her father’s smaller sedan. Much roomier. She looked toward her father. “What would you say are the possibilities of stopping at Sonic for a quick burger?”

Her mother leaned forward. “It’s nice to hear there is something that can stimulate your appetite, as sick as you’ve been. Does a Sonic burger sound good to you?”

“Yeah.” Sabrina sighed and closed her eyes. “The food at General is not bad as far as hospital food goes, but I am so ready for something different.”

“I really think we should go to Nana’s and fix something a little healthier. Burgers don’t exactly sound like the best thing for you right now. Don’t you agree?”

Sabrina closed her eyes tight in an effort to hold the frustration inside her. Why did he never lighten up?

“Bill, the poor thing has had such an upset stomach for the last few days. If something sounds good to her, I think we ought to let her try it, don’t you? I don’t think one cheeseburger is going to greatly wreck her health.”

“My daughter just spent six days in the hospital because her immune system can’t fight an infection. I’m saying I want to do everything in my power to give her body the strength it needs to fight back, because I don’t ever want to go through this again.”

“
You
don’t want to go through this again?” Sabrina’s eyes flew open at the same time her mouth did. “I’m sorry that I’ve been an inconvenience for you, Dad.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. This is about doing what is best for you.”

Sabrina didn’t say anything else, she simply nodded. It seemed her father was somehow once again blaming her for getting sick.

“Bill, she has barely kept five hundred calories’ worth of
anything down in the last week. I’ve always heard that if someone is having stomach trouble and they start craving something, it’s something that will settle her stomach. Don’t you think we should give it a try?” Mom’s voice was calm, but it was also firm. She rarely stood up to Dad without backing down, but Sabrina was more than certain that this was going to be one of those times.

Apparently Dad realized this, too. He glanced once toward Sabrina and shook his head almost imperceptibly. “I guess it won’t hurt. But I’m saying we need to make sure she’s on a healthy living regimen once she gets settled.”

“Sure, Dad, sounds good.”

Brandy knocked softly. She knew that Sabrina still did not feel well, and she didn’t want to wake her if she was sleeping. Mrs. Springer answered the door. She looked tired, but she smiled her welcoming smile.

“Brandy, it’s so good to see you. Sabrina’s just sitting at the kitchen table doing some schoolwork. Come on in. I know she’s been looking forward to seeing you.” She led Brandy into the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink? Some water or soda or anything?”

“No, ma’am. Thank you.”

“I’ll leave you two young’uns to talk, then.” She left the room, but not before she cast a worried glance in Sabrina’s direction.

Sabrina was sitting with her head supported by one hand, elbow on the table. There was a thick book opened in front of her on the table, but she looked up and smiled at Brandy. “Hey there, slacker.”

“Hey, yourself. And the only slacker around here is you. I’ve been running my legs off, thanks to that torture chamber you have
the nerve to call a training schedule. You’ve been home from the hospital for three days now—time to look for a new excuse for sleeping in on training mornings.”

Sabrina leaned back in her chair, a huge smile across her face. “That’s more like it. I’ve got enough people trying to baby me around here.”

“So I figured. It’s time for some tough love, and I’m just the person to bring it.”

“I don’t doubt that at all. How’s training?”

“Pretty decent.” Brandy nodded. “I’m still pushing. I haven’t missed a single thing on your list. Usually I try to do just a little something more.”

“Good for you. It’s that extra push that will see you through when you think there’s nothing left.” Sabrina’s short sleeves revealed pale, skinny arms covered by a red rash. Brandy couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how Sabrina was getting by now. Just pushing past what would be expected of most people.

“And I’m thinking you’re right about my slacking. Tomorrow morning I plan to come out and see for myself. Don’t let me down.”

“Really? Are you sure you’re up for it?” She was still so pale.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to back off now. I’ve been pushing you hard all this time. It’s time for you to start returning the favor. Besides, Mrs. Lauderdale is about to blow a gasket because I’m not, and I quote, ‘living up to my end of the bargain.’ That woman is something else.”

“Tell me about it.” Brandy rolled her eyes in agreement, with no intention of telling Sabrina that Mrs. Lauderdale had called their house a couple of times, too. Her talk of calling the judge had so far been just empty threats, and while that could change at any time, Brandy would not add to Sabrina’s burden. Instead, she did what Sabrina had asked her to do and pushed. “I’m
thinking we should start a little extra early tomorrow. Four forty-five-ish.”

Sabrina looked at her without changing expression. No laugh, not even a smile. Of course, it was obvious by looking at her she did not feel well. “Or maybe a little later would be fine, too.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “You backed down from that one way too easy. Let me see . . .” She made a pretext of looking at the calendar on her smartphone. “I already had you penciled in for five o’clock tomorrow morning. Since my social calendar is so completely overbooked, let’s just stick with that.”

A person couldn’t help but admire Sabrina’s show of bravado, even at times like this. It gave Brandy the odd need to cry, which she had no intention of doing. Time for a change in subject. “There’s a big 5K in Nashville at the end of the month. I’ve entered it.”

“Oh right, the Music City Run. I’d had that one on my radar, but then got distracted and forgot to mention it to you.”

Distracted. Right. Brandy looked at Sabrina, a new determination burning inside her chest. “I’m going to win it. For my age group at least.”

Sabrina smiled. “That’s the fighting spirit. It’s that kind of thinking that separates the good from the great.”

Good and great occurred in a lot more places than running. Brandy knew that she was looking at a rarer form of great right now. “I learned it from you.” She hated it when her voice cracked, but this was one of those times when she just couldn’t help it. “I wish there was something I could do to help you.”

Sabrina waved her hand dismissively. “I’m fine, really, just a little tired.”

“You can try selling that to someone who will actually buy it.”

“We’re a lot alike, the two of us, when you get right down to it. Neither one of us likes other people’s pity. Maybe that’s why we understand each other so well in spite of our differences.”

Brandy nodded. “I guess you’re right about that.”

“Of course I’m right. I’m your coach, I’m always right.” Her attempt at humor was as feeble as she looked, but Brandy made a point of tossing her head back to honor the attempt at smack talk.

“’Course you are.” She stood up, with every bit of her heart breaking for Sabrina, but determined to do what it was she thought Sabrina needed. “See you in the morning, if you’re not too busy sleeping in.”

Sabrina’s smile was genuine then. “I’ll try to work you into my busy schedule.”

Brandy somehow managed to make it to the sidewalk before she burst into tears.

A
t four forty-five, the sound of pseudo ocean slowly filtered into Sabrina’s consciousness. Ugh. Why had she been so quick to say she would be at this morning’s workout?

She rolled over and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, using every bit of her inner strength to fight the urge to roll over and go back to sleep. And
that
was the reason she’d agreed to this. Inner weakness was not to be indulged. It was that kind of thing that lost championships. Or internships. Or stellar grade point averages.

Somehow she managed to pull on some sweats, splash water on her face, and brush her teeth with one minute to spare. When she walked down to the sidewalk, Brandy was already there, pacing.

“So you did make it.” Brandy made a show of looking at her watch. “Barely.”

“Did you doubt me?” Sabrina meant it as a flip question, but instead of a quick, snarky response, Brandy simply looked at her long and hard.

“No.” She grabbed her left foot behind her to stretch out her quads. “I guess I didn’t.”

The weight of responsibility pressed down on Sabrina’s shoulders. It was more than a little uncomfortable. “What’s on your spreadsheet for today?”

“Distance.”

“Better get moving, then.” She flipped open her laptop, ready to think about something else. “I’m expecting to see some progress since the last time I watched you.”

Brandy took off in the usual direction without another word. For just a moment Sabrina watched, noting that her form did look better. Well, it was early in the run yet. Five miles had a way of showing what was ingrained and what was just for show.

Sabrina turned her attention back to her laptop. Her brain cells were not sufficiently engaged to do any sort of meaningful work at this point. Might as well check her email. She opened Outlook, thankful for the nice range of Nana’s Wi-Fi.

She did a quick preliminary scan and noticed one from Candace Davenport. It had been received late yesterday afternoon. She scrolled down and read it first.

Sabrina,

We received your paper work in our office yesterday. Thank you for the promptness of your reply. Before processing this any further, however, we have decided to do one more round of interviews. I believe I told you this was a possibility when we talked before. Please call my secretary as soon as possible so we can schedule this in a timely manner.

I look forward to meeting with you again.

Sincerely,

Candace Davenport

Another interview?

An uneasiness settled on her that only grew worse the more she tried to talk herself out of it. Of course, they had said this was a possibility all along, but it seemed a little too convenient that this “unlikely” event occurred right after her hospitalization. What if Cassie had told her sister-in-law about the rash-covered girl she’d seen in the gift shop? Or worse, what if her mother had accessed her medical records and shared even more than that? Were they concerned that she wouldn’t have what it took to do the job?

Either way, she planned to go into this interview prepared to show them that she was not only able, but was the best person for the job.

The sound of rubber slapping against concrete pulled her back into the current. Brandy was almost back from her first lap. Sabrina looked down at the stopwatch. “Three minutes. Not bad, but you’d better be back here before it gets to six.”

Brandy huffed past her, shaking her head. “Now I remember why I liked training alone.”

I like that better, too.
The thought came with a fierceness that almost took her breath away. It was more than a random thought, it was an anger so deeply embedded she’d been able to ignore it most of the time. But not now. Not when another gross unfairness was staring her in the face. Why would God allow this to happen? Sabrina had done everything right. She had followed the rules, worked hard—she
deserved
to be out there running. She deserved to get the internship she’d earned on merit.

It wasn’t her fault that her body had rebelled. It wasn’t her fault even now, when her dream internship was being threatened, probably because of that same unfair disease.

She was good at designing publicity campaigns. That was something that neither arthritis nor her immune system could take from her. No. She was going to fight for this.

Hard.

Koen was sitting at the corner table, and even though his psych book was open in front of him, the movement of thumb against phone dispelled any thought that he was actually studying. As Sabrina moved toward him, she wasn’t sure which made her happier—Koen’s presence or the prospect of the nice padded chair beside him. She dropped into it, rubbed her right knee, then propped her feet on the chair across from her. “I’m glad that shift’s over.”

“Me too. Studying, in and of itself, is a horror, but having to do it alone, well, that’s downright torturous.”

“Like you’ve been studying. You’ve been texting the entire time you were in here.”

“No I wasn’t, I was . . .” He paused for a moment and then leaned closer. “Hey, I think I like knowing that you’ve been watching me.” He leaned closer for the shortest of kisses. His lips felt so warm and soft. “What do you say we blow off studying altogether?”

It was so tempting, or at least it would have been if there wasn’t another trip to Atlanta, another interview looming. “Next week, after I get back, I promise I’ll relax a little.”

He nodded slowly. “I’m going to hold you to that.” He kissed her on the cheek. “You’re limping today. You feeling all right?”

“I’m fine.” Sabrina repeated the same answer she’d given her grandmother while standing in the kitchen that very morning, and on the phone with her mother repeatedly throughout the week. Fact was, the absence of her strongest arthritis meds was taking a toll on her knees. She knew that she couldn’t afford to show any kind of weakness in Atlanta on Monday, because she was not going to give them any excuse, any indication that she was not fully up to the job.

“Have you tried icing your knees?”

Normally, this kind of comment would put Sabrina into a “mind your own business” frame of mind. With a busy week looming ahead, she thought now might be a good time to swallow her pride. “That’s probably a good idea. Hold on a second, I’m going to get some ice from behind the counter before we get started.”

“Would you be more comfortable if we went back to your house to study?”

“More comfortable, probably, but not worth the added worry it would give to my grandmother, and hence my parents.”

“You really don’t like people to worry about you, do you?”

“No, I don’t. And I like pity even less.”

And, more than that, I hate that this disease is able to take away everything that matters to me, one dream at a time.