How Do I Love Thee (11 page)

teve and Bobby's parents came into the room minutes later. “We got your note,” Hank Harrod said.

“And we heard all about your piano playing from the people who were leaving.” Martha Harrod said to Dana. “Sorry we missed it.”

“Rain check,” Bobby said.

Mr. Harrod turned to Steve. “You must be feeling better.”

“I feel fine when I don't have a headache. And being stuck in that room upstairs isn't much fun.”

“You'll see Dr. Patelli in the morning,” his
mother said. I'm sure he'll have some answers for us.”

“Hope so. I need to get back to the field. We barely won this past weekend.” The game had been televised Saturday night on ESPN. Dana hadn't seen it. She and Bobby had sat together on her porch, wrapped in a blanket, watching the stars come out.

His father hooked an arm around Steve's shoulders. “That freshman who replaced you stunk. Couldn't hit the side of a barn with his passes. The defense saved his cookies.”

They started walking and discussing the game. Martha had gone around them, reaching the elevator ahead of them and pushing the button. Bobby stood in die hall with Dana, as if forgotten by his family.

Dana watched his lively and animated expression sag. Pity and disgust toward his parents mingled in her. How could they be so blind to his feelings? She slipped her hand into his. “Want to buy a girl a Coke? She's pretty thirsty after all that piano playing.”

He blinked, as if remembering suddenly where he was and who was with him. “I was flashing back to middle school,” he said apologetically.
“Steve Had just thrown the touchdown pass that won the league championship. Mom and Dad were so excited that they forgot me at the field. I was hanging with some other guys in the upper part of the stadium, and the next thing I knew, the car had left the parking lot following after the rest of the team, honking and cheering. They were all the way to the pizza place before Stew asked, ‘Where's Bobby?’” Bobby sighed. “Dad came back for me, and he was really mad because it was my responsibility to keep up. I guess I've just never been good at keeping up.”

Dana touched her forehead to Bobby's chest. “Then you can keep up with me. And right now I have to go home. But I demand a soda first.”

He offered her a sad smile. “What would I do without you, Dana? You're everything tome.”

Dana's phone rang after eleven that night. She grabbed it, knowing her mother didn't like her getting calls that late. Bobby knew it too, so she was prepared to remind him when a voice said, “Hi, Dana.”

Her breath caught. It wasn't Bobby. “Hi, Steve.”

“I know it's late,” Steve said. “I hope you weren't asleep.”

“No, just studying.”

“I felt I should call and say I'm Sorry.”

“For what?”

“For giving you a hard time every time I see you. I haven't been very nice to you, and that's not right.”

Her hand squeezed the receiver. “No, you haven't,” she said. “You made me pretty mad at you tonight.”

“I figured I die. No excuses except it was a real shock to walk out on the patio that day and discover that the one girl I'd always wanted to meet up with again was dating my brother.”

“I like Bobby. He's been good to me.”

“And he's crazy about you, so don't worry, I'm not going to rock the boat.”

Relief mingled with regret. “I wouldn't hurt him for the world.”

“Neither would L”

“He worships you, you know. And he feels neglected, left out.” She believed Steve was in
a position to help Bobby with his relationship with their parents, especially with their dad.

“I know. I've tried for years to get Dad to pay more attention to Bobby, but I guess it's still not happening.”

“No, it isn't.”

Steve sighed heavily. “What's ironic is that Bobby has nothing to feel inferior about. He's really smart.”

“But he's not an athlete.”

“I still don't know why that matters so much to him. When we were kids, he used to do my math assignments. I remember a time when I was eight and Bobby was only four. He poured out Mom's face powder and wrote some addition problems in the dust. I got a licking because nobody believed that a four-year-old could have done the math.” Steve chuckled. “He felt really bad about me getting into trouble and told Mom-he learned how to add and subtract watching
Sesame Street.
The truth is he's always been a whiz. All I can do is play football. I'd have traded some of my athletic skills for some of his smarts many times.”

Dana felt herself softening. It would have been better if she could have stayed angry at Steve, but she couldn't, and she felt torn between her loyalty to Bobby and her feelings for Steve. “I know Bobby's smart. Too bad your dad can't appreciate him.”

“He's lucky to have you. Very lucky.”

Her mouth felt as dry as cotton. “I'm really sorry about your headaches. I hope you'll be all right.”

“I will. Thanks for playing tonight. I'd forgotten how good you were.”

She was flattered. “I was mad at you when I started playing, but I got over it once I got into the music.”

He laughed. “That coordinator was all over you about playing for the shut-ins. It was nice of you to say you'd try to work it out.”

“How can I pass up the opportunity to be in front of a real live audience? “

“I'll miss you when I go back to school.”

“Same here,” she said before thinking. She bit her lower lip as silence lengthened between them.

Finally Steve said, “But you're Bobby's girl now.”

“Yes,” she answered, swallowing around a lump in her throat. “I'm Bobby's girl now.”

Dana was sitting in class die next morning, listening to a boring lecture, when Bobby suddenly appeared in die doorway.

“Can I help you, Mr. Harrod?” the teacher asked.

“I have to talk to Dana Tafoya. It's an emergency.”

Bobby looked pale and frantic. Dana grew alarmed.

“I have a pass,” Bobby said, waving a piece of paper. “Please.”

The teacher nodded and Dana scooted out the door. The hall was empty. “I'm on my way to the hospital.” Bobby's eyes looked wild.

“What's wrong?” Dana's heart hammered and her mouth went dry.

“It's Steve,” Bobby said, a tremor in his voice. “He got his diagnosis. He's got brain cancer, Dana, and it's going to kill him.”

“
teve said diere is a tumor pressing against his optic nerve. That's why he's having double vision. He told me that the cancer has spread to other parts of his brain, that there's nothing they can do for him.” Bobby clenched and unclenched his fists.

Dana felt woozy, as if air had been sucked from die hallway. “There must be some mistake.”

“No mistake.” Bobby's fingers dug into her shoulders, but she welcomed the pain because it kept her from screaming. Bobby said, “Steve told me himself. He wants me down there, so
I'm going right now. I only stopped long enough to tell you.”

“But isn't there anything the doctors can do? Anything at all? “

“That's what I'm going to go check out for myself. How can his doctors not be able to help him? He's only twenty years old. He's too young to die!” Bobby looked down the hallway anxiously. “I've got to go, all right?”

“Go,” she said, and watched him jog to the stairwell and disappear downward. Shaking, she flattened her back against the wall and felt the cool, smooth surface through her clothes. She blinked back tears, her mind spinning. She gathered her strength and returned to the classroom with tears streaming down her face.

“Dana, what is it?” her teacher asked, alarmed.

She didn't answer. Aware that every eye in the room was on her, but not caring, she scooped up her books and fled.

“Is it true? Is Bobby's brother really dying?” Terry asked. She had come straight over to Dana's house the minute school was out.

Dana was sorry she'd gone to the door. She wasn't up to conversation. She had come straight home from school, darkened her room, and lain on her bed and cried. Now, hours later, she still felt like crying. “I'm waiting to hear from Bobby again,” she told the inquisitive Terry.

“Oh, man—this really sucks. It's all over school too.”

“Who told?”

“Are you kidding? It's major news, Dana. Everyone knows.”

Dana was still unclear how that could be, but she was too devastated to dwell on it.

Terry asked, “So do you want me to hang around till you talk to Bobby?”

“I'll be okay. You don't have to stay.”

Terry looked disappointed. “Um—can I say something?”

“Can I ever stop you from saying something?”

Sheepishly Terry said, “Point taken. Listen, I can understand your being upset about this, but, well … it isn't like this is happening to Bobby, you know. It's his brother, not Bobby, your boyfriend.”

“What's your point?”

Terry shrugged and looked uncomfortable. “You're just taking it awfully hard, that's all. I mean it's a bad thing and all, but it isn't Bobby who's got cancer.”

First her mother, now Terry. This was the second time her reactions concerning Steve had been noticed. Dana steadied herself. She couldn't blurt out her secret. “Maybe I am overreacting,” she told Terry. “I can't help it. I know how much Bobby loves his brother, and I don't know how he's going to handle it. Or how I'm going to help him through it. I—I'm scared.”

Terry nodded sympathetically. “I guess you just have to hang tough. Bobby doesn't need you falling apart, does he?”

Terry made perfect sense, but Dana wasn't positive she could stand on the sidelines playing the observer. She wanted to see Steve. She wanted to be with him again. “I'll try to keep my composure,” she said to Terry. “My piano teacher's always telling me that. ‘Dana, keep your composure no matter how badly a recital is going. Nobody likes a messy scene,’ “ Dana quoted Mrs. Sherrill. “So that's what I'll do.
I'll keep it together for Bobby's sake,”
And for mine
, she added silently. It would do no one any good if she fell to pieces. Questions might be asked. And Dana knew she could give no plausible answers as to why Steve meant so much to her when everyone knew she belonged to Bobby.

The news hit tibe paper and the newscasts the following morning. Hank Harrod was furious and even took a swing at a reporter who tried to corner him to get his reaction on Steve's diagnosis. “How do you think I feel?” Hank yelled, and then aimed a punch at the reporter's face. His move was captured on camera and shown on the six o'clock news.

“Dad's mad at the world right now,” Bobby told Dana over the phone that evening. “He's forbidden us to talk to anybody about Steve.”

“Is that hard for you?”

“Not really. Believe it or not, this is as close as this family's been in years,” Bobby confessed. “We've circled the wagons around Steve to protect him, and I feel like part of a team.” He gave a mirthless laugh. “Doesn't seem right that my brother has to be dying
before I become a member of the family, does it? “

Bobby remained out of school, and at midweek, Steve's coach flew in from Florida, which also made the news. The coach held a brief news conference at which he expressed his deepest regret and asked the media to back off and give Steve and his family some space. He also revealed that Steve had decided not to return to FSU and that he would be sorely missed by the team and the university, Dana was frantic to see Steve, but she knew she couldn't rush over to the house as soon as he came home from the hospital. She bided her time. Her opportunity came one sunny October afternoon a week later. Steve's parents were at work, and Bobby, who had returned to school, was staying late because he was on the team chosen for the annual high school Brain Bowl battle. The contest would happen in March, and the physics teacher wanted Jackson High to make a good showing, so he held practice rounds after school twice a week.