Keep Me in Your Heart (11 page)

“Jessica! Are you all right?” Jeremy bolted through the doorway, skidded to a halt beside
her bed and gently took her in his arms. “I got here as soon as I could. What’s going on?”

She dissolved into tears again, pressing her face into his suit coat to muffle her sobs. “The fistula in my arm’s collapsed,” she managed to say. “Now they have to try and create another one in my leg. I go into surgery tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry,” he said over and over, stroking her hair until her tears slowed and her body stopped trembling.

“I’m so tired of this, Jeremy. Nothing’s going right for me.”

He looked away.

She settled back onto the bed, reached for a tissue and blew her nose. “I guess I’ve ruined your suit.” She dabbed at the wet stains on the shoulder and lapel with another tissue.

“I don’t care about the suit,” he said, taking the tissue from her hand and dropping it into the wastebasket. “Tell me about you. And about what Dr. Witherspoon is doing for you.”

“I’ll have to return to an external shunt until my new fistula gets strong enough to do its job.” The first fistula that had failed had also taken a month to become serviceable. The cannula, or tube, of the external shunt that Jessica
would use in the interim ran down the outside of her arm, making it far harder to hide than the internal fistula. “It’s ugly, Jeremy. I hate it. And it’ll probably get infected. Why not? Nothing else’s gone right for me.”

“But at least it’ll be easier to get the needles from the dialyzer into you,” he reminded her. “You won’t have to get stuck every time.”

She wasn’t consoled. “I feel like I’m starting back at square one, Jeremy. Like I’m in a terrible game that makes me start over just when I think I’m on top of it.”

“But even with the external shunt, you can go home after the surgery and go back to your regular dialysis schedule.”

The concern she saw in his dark eyes touched her deeply, and she regretted having unloaded on him. “Oh my gosh, Jeremy. The hearing! The hearing was today in juvenile court. You went through the whole thing for me, and I was having such a pity party that I didn’t even ask about it. How did it go?”

“You weren’t having a pity party,” he countered. “You’re in the hospital. I think you’re entitled to be upset. The second I heard, I rushed right over. Where’re your parents?”

“I made them go to the cafeteria. Mom’s so uptight she might have to check into a room herself.” Jessica sniffed and offered a wan smile. “I worry about them both, you know.” She took Jeremy’s hand. “Tell me what happened today.”

He looked down at their joined hands, and she realized that because he was avoiding the subject, the hearing must not have gone well. She braced for his news.

“My father and his attorney ate us for lunch,” Jeremy confessed quietly.

She felt another wave of depression. “So we lost.”

He took her face between his palms and said fiercely, “We may have lost the battle, but not the war. We’re not giving up, Jessie.”

“Tell me all about it.”

He did. “The judge wouldn’t even let me speak except to answer his dumb questions,” he concluded. “He made me feel like I was some sort of spoiled, snotty-nosed kid who didn’t know that I was well off. Geez, I know I’ve got good parents. That’s not what this is about. It’s about my parents allowing me to do what I want with my own body.”

He looked disgusted, and she felt so dismal, so defeated that she could hardly stand to have him look at her. “What’s the use of fighting?” she asked.

“Because I’ve got a good case. Jake and Fran both think I can win if we go before a federal judge.”

“But the last case took a month to be heard.”

He nodded. “And getting a hearing set before a federal judge can take longer, but we’ll file for extreme hardship like we did before. Maybe this judge will be more understanding, more favorable.”

She shook her head. “Your father will only appeal the decision if you win.”

“If he does, we’ll go to a higher court. We’ll go all the way to the Supreme Court if we have to.”

She wasn’t encouraged. “Don’t you see, Jeremy, this could drag on for years.”

He didn’t say anything, and she knew her assessment was correct.

“I may not have years,” she told him quietly.

He pulled her against his chest. “Don’t say
that, Jessie. Don’t ever say that. We’ll find a way through this.”

She allowed him to reassure her without argument, but she didn’t feel hopeful in the least. They were two kids up against a world of powerful and knowledgeable adults who were convinced that they knew what was best for all concerned. But she didn’t want to let on to Jeremy how defeated she felt. He was trying so hard.

She pushed away and changed the subject. “Another thing’s got me down too. All my friends are packing and buying stuff for their dorm rooms, getting ready to go off to college. I was supposed to start classes too, but now I don’t think I can hack freshman orientation, new class work and dialysis.”

“Yeah,” he said glumly. “I was hoping you could start in September like all your friends. Maybe things will be better by second term. Lots of people start college in January, you know. There’s no law that says you have to begin in September.”

She didn’t want to think about it. All her plans and dreams had been totally altered by her kidney failure, and it was too painful to
remember them. “What about you? You’re going to be a senior and your senior year is supposed to be fun. Mine was … until this happened.”

He shook his head. “I’m not going back to high school. I can’t live with Jake and commute to Reston every day. And I don’t want to start over in another school district.”

“You can’t drop out of school!” she cried, horrified.

“I can test out. I’m smart, remember?” He gave a rueful smile. “At least that’s what the judge told me.”

“But it’s your senior year!”

“The only reason I hung around in high school at all was because of you, Jessie. I looked forward to that English class with you. Just seeing you in the halls and the cafeteria perked up my day. Don’t you see?
You
were the only thing that kept me in high school in the first place.”

“What about the prom and graduation ceremony?”

“You didn’t go to your prom.”

“And you know why.”

He brushed it off. “And as for graduating, I
can get into college without a high-school diploma if I test high enough. In fact, I plan to graduate from college
without
a high-school diploma.” He grinned. “Others have done it, so can I.”

She didn’t like it. She felt responsible for the course his life was taking. If it weren’t for her, he’d be living at home, at peace with his parents, planning to return to high school. He wouldn’t be embroiled in a tedious legal dispute. “If it weren’t for me—,” she began.

He silenced her with a quick kiss. “If it weren’t for you, I’d never have known what it feels like to love somebody the way I love you.”

She knew his words were supposed to make her feel better, but they didn’t. They made her feel guilty, and responsible for his choices. She wanted to release him from the debt he seemed to think he owed her. She told herself that once she returned home, she’d think of a way to set Jeremy free.

It was late when Jeremy returned to Jake’s. The TV was on, and Jake was watching a news program. “You’re on my bed,” Jeremy said. “And I’m whipped.”

Jake asked, “How’s Jessica?”

Jeremy told him, including the depression he sensed she was experiencing. He dropped onto the sofa and rubbed his neck. “Anyway, I gave her a pep talk, but I’m not sure it registered.”

Jake pushed the Mute button on the TV remote. “I’m sorry about the way things went today. Fran and I feel responsible for the defeat.”

“It was a calculated risk. We all knew that. My father’s got legal experience, and worse, he’s got time on his side.”

Jake looked at him, and Jeremy could tell he was holding something back. “What’s up?”

Jake grinned. “So much for a poker face, huh? Guess I’ll have to do better if I ever get to go in front of a jury.”

Jeremy watched him fidget, and a sudden stab of fear made him blurt, “You’re not planning on quitting on me, are you?”

“No, nothing like that. But something has come up. Your father called earlier this evening. He wants a meeting with you, Jeremy. He wants to talk to you face-to-face.”

“H
e wants a meeting—why? To gloat?” Jeremy headed into the kitchen, and Jake followed him.

“I don’t think his motive is gloating. I think he just wants to talk to you.”

“We’ve already said all there is to say.” Jeremy jerked open the refrigerator door and rummaged through the shelves. He wasn’t hungry, only restless and agitated.

“He asked me if we were going to appeal today’s decision and I told him we were.”

“So, did he bite your head off because you’re helping me?”

“No. But he and I both know what we’re up against in the system.”

Jeremy slammed the refrigerator door. “Don’t tell me our lousy odds, Jake. I hate hearing the odds.”

Jake caught his arm. “Jeremy, I think you should meet with your father.”

“I don’t.”

“Listen to me. I’m your attorney and I’m advising you to sit down and talk to him again. Perhaps we can settle this case without going to court.”

Jeremy boosted himself up onto the countertop and stared glumly at the floor. “He’ll only drop his case if I give up my suit. And I’ll only give up if he lets me do what I want. I’m telling you, Jake, he’s not going to quit. You don’t know my father. For him, winning is everything.”

“One of the first rules of practicing law is to avoid litigation whenever possible,” Jake said earnestly. “As your attorney, I’m advising you to see your father. I can arrange for the meeting in neutral territory—one of the conference rooms at Georgetown, for instance. I’ll hang around in the hall during the meeting. And if the two of you come to blows, I’ll run inside and throw myself between
you.” He grinned, and Jeremy returned a halfhearted smile.

“All right. But not until after Jessica’s surgery. And not until she’s out of the hospital and back into her everyday routine. I want to be there for her. She comes first.”

Her surgery went well, and in a couple of days Jessica returned home. This time the external shunt was on her leg, capped off but accessible to the nurses in the dialysis unit. Dr. Witherspoon told her, “You’re doing fine,” but he prescribed a mild mood-elevating medication to combat her depression.

At home, Jessica lined up on her dresser the bottles of medications she took daily. The bottles stood like little brown soldiers awaiting their missions, from phosphate and potassium binders to calcium and iron supplements, plus numerous others to keep her body up and running. She remembered the days when her dresser had held bottles of perfume and makeup. Now those had been relegated to a drawer.

The phone rang and she answered it. Jeremy said, “How about a movie tonight?”

“Yes,” she told him. She wanted to escape from her dreary everyday life, if only for a few hours. “I need to go out and do something normal.”

The theater was packed, and the smell of buttered popcorn made her mouth water. Her snack consisted of a measured amount of jelly beans and a diet soda. Jeremy stuck to snacking on hard candy and soda—in deference to her, she figured.

Afterward they went to a nearby coffee shop and ordered specialty coffees. “I’d kill for some french fries,” she said with a sigh. “I thought I was going to have to ask the guy sitting next to me with his bucket of popcorn to move. The smell was making me crazy.”

“Once you get your transplant, you can pig out on french fries and popcorn too.”

“Sounds heavenly to me.” They rarely discussed the actual transplant anymore because it was too depressing.

“I’ve agreed to see my father this Friday,” Jeremy said quietly.

“You have? But that’s good. You shouldn’t be estranged from him.”

“I’m doing it for two reasons: Jake wants me to, and I know you do too.”

She stirred her coffee, watching Jeremy’s face. “What do you think he wants?”

“Probably wants to offer me a deal, his kidney for mine,” he said sardonically.

She giggled. “Maybe he just wants to kiss and make up.”

“He knows how he can make up with me.”

She leaned back and propped her feet up on another chair. Sitting for so long in the movie had caused her legs and feet to swell. Her shoes felt tight, but she was afraid to take them off; she might not be able to get them back on. “Did I tell you that I persuaded my mom to go back to her Head Start job? She was planning on not returning this school year, but I told her I wanted her to work. She gets too preoccupied with my kidney problem and drives me nuts with her hovering. I have to take over someday.” She paused. “I’m thinking of getting my own apartment, Jeremy.”

He sat up straight. “When?”

“As soon as I can. I need to be out on my own.”

“Then why not go to college? You can live in the dorm if you don’t want to live at home.”

“I’m not ready yet. Maybe in January, like you suggested. But right now I want to learn how to cope on my own. This is
my
kidney problem. Not my parents’. Not yours.”

He looked hurt. “I didn’t mean to make you feel as if I was taking it over.”

“I know you care. But things should never have gone this far. You at war with your family. You living with a stranger. You dropping out of high school. Things have simply gotten out of hand, and I feel like it’s my fault.”

He opened his mouth to protest.

“Let me finish,” she told him. “I’ve been wanting to say this for weeks. I think you should drop your emancipation suit, Jeremy.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“Because you need my kidney.”

She shook her head. “I
need
a transplant. I would
like
to have your kidney.”

“It makes no sense to me that you shouldn’t have my kidney.”

“Let’s not argue. All I’m trying to say is that
I need to handle my own problems. If your father offers you an olive branch on Friday, take it.”