How Do I Love Thee (13 page)

They met at the hospital after Steve's treatments, after her mini-concerts for the patients. They met on Sunday afternoons when she was supposed to be in the library studying.
Sometimes she skipped school and they met where they could be alone—his favorite spot in the woods until die weather turned cold, then at her house when her parents were at work. They folded themselves into the comfort of each other's presence. Often she played the piano for him, always ending with the
Moonlight
Sonata because it was his favorite. Sometimes they sat and watched fire dance in the fireplace, sometimes they talked, often they didn't. Neither spoke of the future. He loved her and she loved him. When they were together, nothing else mattered. All they had was the here and now. It was enough because it
had
tobe.

The radiation worked its wonders. Steve's tumor shrank, his headaches vanished, and his spirits rose. On Thanksgiving Day, he tossed a football with his father and Bobby in the backyard. Dana had come over to sample desserts because Bobby had begged her to. She felt awkward being around both brothers, but Steve was very careful to treat her casually, as if she were just another one of Bobby's friends.

“Maybe the doctors made a mistake,” Dana
heard Hank Harrod say. “It's happened before, you know. I saw a story on TV about a woman with cancer that vanished, just like that.”

“Doctors make mistakes all the rime,” Bobby said, going back for a pass from his father. “You might just be cured, bro.” The bail spiraled downward, and Bobby kept backing up. Suddenly he tripped and dropped it.

“Geez, Bobby, can't you even hang on to a simple football?” his dad chided. “I swear, you haven't got a sports gene in your entire body.”

Dana saw Bobby's expression fall and his shoulders slump. Steve gave him a hand up. “I'm calling it quits,” Steve said. “Let's go inside, get Mom to make some popcorn.”

“In a minute,” Bobby said.

Their father threw his arm around Steve's shoulder and tugged him toward the house. “Come on, son. The game's starting.”

Steve said to Bobby, “Coming?”

“In a minute. You go on.”

Dana waited until Steve and his father had gone inside. She took Bobby's hand. “Come home with me and watch a movie. Who cares about TV football games?”

“Not today, Dana.” He stood staring at the
back door of the house. “I know Dad wishes it was me who was sick instead of Steve.”

“Don't say that.”

“Why not? It's the truth.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “And you know what? Sometimes I wish it was me too.”

“Bobby, please…”

He faced her and she saw anger and pain in his eyes. “At least then I might not be invisible. I'm a stranger in my own house, Dana. Dad's mad at the world. All Mom does is cry. Nobody ever asks, ‘So how are you doing, Bobby?’” He turned to Dana. “My brother's dying. My only brother and I can't even talk about it because it's too hard, because everybody hurts too much.” Bobby struggled to regain control. “Yeah … I should be the one who's dying so I can get out of everybody's way.”

“Stop it,” she commanded. “I don't want you to die, Bobby.”

“Who would miss me?”

“I would.”

“Would you, Dana?”

She ignored his question. “And so would Steve. Do you really think he'd let you trade places with him?”

“Probably not.” Bobby ground his fist into his other palm. “A reporter called a few days ago for an interview. Can you believe it? Steve's legend lives on in spite of everything.”

“Steve's just a person, Bobby. Just a regular person that something terrible is happening to. Everybody's sorry.”

His eyes looked haunted. “Are you the only person in the universe who isn't in love with my brother?”

She felt a chill go through her. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Because I think I'm going crazy. Sometimes I feel like you and I are a million miles apart, even when we're standing next to each other. Even when I'm kissing you.”

Her stomach constricted. “Don't feel that way, Bobby. Please. This is hard on all of us.”

He pulled her to him, and she put her arms around him, held him tightly. Over his shoulder, she saw Steve watching through the kitchen window.

Dana's piano teacher urged her to participate in a piano competition to be held in Atlanta right before Christmas, but Dana didn't
want to go. “Why not?” the astounded Mrs. Sherrill asked. “This is a wonderful opportunity for you. Some of the best judges in the country will be there, as well as some of the top student talent in die Southeast. If you want a scholarship to Juilliard, I can't imagine a better testing ground.”

Dana couldn't tell her teacher that she didn't want to leave Steve. Their time together was running out, and she couldn't waste any of it at a competition where she wouldn't be able to concentrate anyway. “My parents will send me to Juilliard with or without a scholarship,” she told Mrs. Sherrill. “I can't go away right now. I just can't.”

Her mother also urged Dana to go, but she wouldn't budge. “I thought becoming a concert pianist was your dream,” her mother said. “You've always been so focused. What's wrong, Dana?”

“Dreams change,” Dana answered.

“Please don't tell me you've gone off the deep end over Bobby. He's a nice guy and all, but don't throw away your future because of some high school crush.”

Dana whirled and glared at her mother. “It isn't Bobby, Mom. Don't blame him. I'll compete in the state contest in the spring like I've always planned. If that gets me a scholarship, then good. If it doesn't, maybe I won't even go to Juilliard. There are other schools with good music programs, you know.”

“Not go! But Dana, that's all you've talked about for years! What's happening to you?”

Tears welled in Dana's eyes. “Please don't yell at me, Mom. I—I can't take you yelling at me just now.”

Her mother gave Dana a long, thoughtful look, then sighed, stepped forward, and hugged her. “I only want what you want. If Adanta isn't something you want to do, then all right. But as to abandoning your plans to attend Juilliard, I will ask you to reconsider that. You're so close to having what you've always said you wanted. Don't get cold feet now, Dana. It's your dream and your future.”

Dana nodded, grateful to have a mother who respected her decisions without giving her the third degree. “I—I won't let my dreams go, Mom,” she said, sniffing back tears.
“I just may take a little bit longer getting them. Trust me.”

For Christmas, Bobby gave Dana a necklace from which hung a gold heart embedded with a seed pearl. Steve gave her a book of poetry, a compilation of famous love poems stretching from ancient Greece to the present. “Remember when you read this, I'm a jock,” Steve said with a sheepish grin. “I stood in the bookstore for over an hour trying to decide what book had the words I want to say to you. This one came the closest.”

“I'll pretend you're reading them to me when I read it.”

He closed his hand over hers. “Don't read it yet. Read it later … after I'm gone.”

She knew what he meant and felt a heaviness inside her heart. His radiation treatments were over, and he'd been feeling pretty good throughout the holidays. She was thankful for the gift of time. “If that's what you want,” she said.

“It's what I want.”

She treasured both gifts. She showed off
Bobby's to friends and family and tucked Steve's away in her memory box, waiting for the day when she could no longer hear his voice or see his face to take it out and have him touch her through the words of long-dead poets and still-living ones.

In February, Steve's headaches returned with a vengeance, evidence that his tumor was on the move again. He lost his sense of taste, could no longer drive or leave the house. Dana was beside herself because now it was harder than ever to be alone with him.

She practiced relentlessly for the upcoming state competitions, driving herself to new levels of excellence. Bobby was her sole diversion. Their friends headed off to Florida for spring break. “I can't leave Steve,” Bobby said. “Go if you want to.”

“No,” she said. “I don't want to. I wouldn't have a good time without you, knowing you were here alone.” It was a partial truth. She couldn't leave Steve either.

In late March, SAT scores arrived for their high school. Dana scored high enough to meet Juilliard's academic standards, which pleased
her parents and sealed their promise to send her there, scholarship or not. But Bobby Harrod earned 1600—a perfect score. He was one of only seven hundred high school seniors to do so in the entire country.

obby's SAT score brought him instant fame. The city newspaper called for an interview, and once the reporter picked up on Bobby's relationship to Steve, the great FSU quarterback struck down by cancer, other reporters came. “CNN showed the video clip from our local station last night,” Bobby told Dana at school. “It about blew us away. We're all used to seeing Steve on the screen, not me. Dad didn't know what to say.”

“Sorry I missed it. Did you like seeing yourself bragged about?”

He shrugged. “Face it, it's only news because I'm Steve's brother.”

“No, it's news because only seven hundred other people in the country made a perfect score on their SATs.”

A group of Bobby's friends walked past and made a ceremony of bowing toward him. “Knock it off, wise guys,” Bobby said.

His friends laughed, but Dana could see that the attention pleased him. “So how should we celebrate your first national news coverage?” she asked.

“Celebrations will have to wait until after I get home from Brain Bowl.”

Jackson High's team had advanced to the state finals, so Bobby and his teammates were headed off to Charlotte for the weekend.

“With you there, I'm sure we'll win,” Dana told him. “And then we'll have two things to celebrate. The finals will be televised.”

“On cable access,” Bobby said dismissively. “But you will watch, won't you?”

“I wouldn't miss it. There's supposed to be a big party in the cafeteria with the whole school invited to watch. Maybe I'll have a seat of honor because I'm Bobby's girl.” She grinned impishly.

“I want you to watch it at my house—with
Steve. He asked if that would be okay with me and I told him sure … that is, if it's okay with you, Dana.”

She hadn't seen Steve in more than two weeks, and her heart leaped in anticipation, “It's okay with me,” she said, hoping her voice didn't betray her eagerness.

“Steve doesn't see many people these days, so count yourself among the lucky few.” Bobby adjusted his armload of books. “I want Steve to be happy, and if spending an afternoon with my girl will do the trick, I'm for it.”

“Then your girl will be pleased to return the favor.”

“I do it all for love,” Bobby said, kissing her forehead.

She watched him walk away, ashamed of her deception but ecstatic about the opportunity to spend more time with the one she loved.

The Harrods had turned their family room into a hospital room just for Steve. He had a special bed, a TV, videos, and a laptop computer, as well as a table, sofa, and fireplace all to himself. Dana was impressed with the setup and told him so.

“I told Mom and Dad it wasn't necessary, but they insisted. I think they needed something to do, something else to think about.” He gestured. “Besides, it's big enough for all of us to be together at the same time. No crowding.” He held out his hand. “Come here. Let me look at you.”

Her heart hammered. His illness was taking its toll. He was thinner, and his skin looked sallow. Gone were the tan and the thick muscles from hours of working out on the football field. His hair was growing back and his head was covered in a fine blond fuzz. “I've missed seeing you,” she said, taking his hand. It felt light, as if his bones had gone hollow.

“Not as much as I've missed seeing you. Do you know what it's like to lie here day after day with nothing to do but think about us? “

“At least I've been able to keep busy with school.”

He patted the edge of the bed. “Sit. Take the remote. We'd better find that cable show and watch Bobby shine.”

She took the remote, flipped to the channel broadcasting the Bowl competition, and curled
up in the bed next to Steve. “Where are your parents?”