Courage Tree (28 page)

“You have a
fistula
,” she said, her mind instantly on fire.

He nodded, his eyes still closed, and suddenly she understood the cause of his yellow skin, his camel-like ability to go without water, the muscle cramps, the weakness.

“Oh, Lucas, my God!” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why on earth did you keep this from me?”

“I need to get to a dialysis center,” he said.

“Yes,” she said, standing up again. “Do you think you can make it back to the car?” She glanced in the direction of the road. They had not come that far.

“I think so,” he said. He leaned on her heavily as he got to his feet, and she wrapped her arm around him as they walked to the car. There were so many questions she wanted to ask him, but they would have to wait. Right now, he would need all of his energy and concentration to get through the woods and up the cliff to the car.

Climbing the cliff was slow and painful, and Lucas was severely winded by the time they reached the road, his breathing loud and ragged.

“You sit on the edge of the cliff, here,” she said, helping him lower himself to the ground. “I’ll bring the car over to you.”

She raced down the road to her car, then drove toward him, parking as close to him as she could. He practically fell into the passenger seat, and she buckled the seat belt around him before getting in behind the steering wheel.

“Do you know where the nearest dialysis center is?” she asked.

“Take me back to Fairfax.”

“I don’t think you should wait that long,” she said.

He rolled his head to look at her. “They’re going to admit me, Janine,” he said. “I don’t want to be stuck in a hospital way out here.”

“Okay,” she agreed. If he worsened on the trip back to Virginia, she could find a hospital along the way.

They rode in silence until she was on 55. Then she reached across the console to rest her hand on his knee. She was truly angry with him. He’d lied to her, but now was not the time to dump her anger on him.

“What’s wrong with your kidneys?” she asked.

“Same as Sophie,” he said. “It didn’t hit me until I was in my late twenties, though.”

“So, that’s why you were so interested in Sophie.”

“Initially, yes.”

“What about Herbalina?” she asked. “Have you wondered if it might help you?”

He was quiet for a moment, and she thought he might have drifted off…or worse. She glanced worriedly in his direction and saw that he was licking his dry lips.

“I actually spoke to Schaefer about it,” he admitted. “Apparently it doesn’t work on adults. Maybe with a little tweaking, he said. But…not yet.”

“What about a transplant?”

“I’m on the list,” he said. “Have been for a few years.”

“Oh, Lucas, why?” she asked. “Why didn’t you tell me? You know I would have been there for you.”

“You had enough on your plate.”

“When is the last time you got dialysis?”

“Thursday.”

“That’s why you had to go back to Vienna Thursday night,” she said. “Damn it, Lucas, I wish you had told me! This is so crazy. How many times a week do you need it?”

“Four,” he said.

“Four! And you haven’t had it since Thursday? Lucas, what are you—” She suddenly realized exactly what he had done. “You’ve been screwing up your dialysis schedule to be with me,” she said. “Haven’t you?”

“I haven’t been as faithful about it as I should have been,” he admitted. “I skipped a couple of sessions. Didn’t stay long enough when I did go.”

“Oh, Lucas,” she said. “I just wish you’d told me.” Gripping the steering wheel, she pressed the gas pedal lower to the floor, knowing at least as well as he did the risk he had taken with his life.

L
ucas didn’t want Janine with him in the dialysis room, but as the nurse pushed him past the other beds in the wheelchair, he didn’t have the strength or the breath or the heart to tell her not to follow.

He hadn’t wanted her to know about this, ever. Certainly, he hadn’t wanted her to find out the way she had. He knew she was angry with him, as well as confused by his secretiveness and hurt by his reluctance to trust her with information about a condition that was so much a part of him—and, ironically, a part of her, as well.

There were a few other patients in the room, and he knew one or two of them, but he had no energy to return their waves as he was wheeled across the floor. He transferred from the chair to the adjustable bed, leaning back against the raised mattress, and held out his arm for Sherry, the nurse who had dialyzed him many times before.

Janine sat down in the chair at the side of his bed. “Is he going to be all right?” she asked Sherry.

“Once we get this fluid out of him,” Sherry said, then
turned to Lucas. “I need to give you your Epogen injection first,” she told him, and he nodded, offering her his other arm.

“My hands and feet are tingling,” he said, knowing that Sherry would understand the meaning of those symptoms. So, of course, did Janine.

“His potassium’s too high,” Janine said.

“Yeah, well, I’m not surprised,” said Sherry. “Let’s get some blood work on you, my friend, and see what’s cooking.”

He felt Janine’s eyes on him as Sherry gave him the Epogen injection and drew his blood for the lab work. Poor Jan. Her hair was a mess, her face wan and worried, a streak of dirt across one cheek. She’d been pulled through an emotional wringer these past seven days, and he wasn’t making it any easier on her now.

When Sherry had finished drawing his blood and freed his right arm, he reached over the edge of the bed to take Janine’s hand.

“Sorry,” he said.

“What for?” she asked.

“For keeping this from you, and for pulling you out of the woods today. And for giving you something else to worry about when you already have enough to deal with.”

Janine bit her lip. Her gaze moved to his arm, where Sherry was inserting the needles into the fistula.

“I felt like I could trust you,” she said. “I felt as if I could tell you anything. And all the while, you were keeping this huge secret from me. I was a fool for missing all the clues, especially today. Your face is swollen, and your legs. And here I was trying to get you to drink.”

“You were thinking about Sophie,” he said. “I’d given you no reason to suspect there was anything wrong with me.”

“That’s Lucas for you,” Sherry said, pressing a button on the dialysis machine.

Lucas recognized that chiding tone in Sherry’s voice.

“What are we going to do with you, Luke?” she asked. “You’ve been playing with fire lately. Missing treatments. Coming in days late for your appointments. Not staying for your full treatment. You can’t get away with that. You’re not new to this stuff. You know better.”

“He’s been trying to help me,” Janine said, holding his hand more tightly.

“You’re not going to be much help to your friend here if you’re dead,” Sherry said bluntly.

“Yes, Mom,” Lucas replied, but he knew she was right. In all his years on dialysis, he had never treated his disease as irresponsibly as he had lately. He’d certainly been through times of stress before, but he’d always taken great pains to keep his body as healthy as he possibly could.

“I’m calling your doc,” Sherry said. “We need to admit you for a day or two. Get you stabilized and back on track.”

He nodded, resigned. He’d expected them to admit him. At another time, he might have been relieved to turn over responsibility for his recalcitrant body to someone else for a while. Not now, though. The timing was very poor. He had so much work to do. Work Janine knew nothing about. Work that, if he died, would never get done, and that, he knew, would be a tragedy. For that reason alone, he should have taken better care of himself.

Sherry left the dialysis room to call his doctor, and Lucas looked at Janine.

“I don’t want you to stay,” he said. He was so tired. All he wanted to do now was sleep.

“I want to stay,” she said, tightening her hand around his. “I can’t believe that you’ve been dealing with this alone, Lucas. You’ve been trying to help me, when you should have been worrying about yourself.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “I just want to sleep during the dialysis. You go home.”

She turned away from him, and he could practically see the wheels spinning inside her head. He knew what she was thinking.

“I don’t think you should go back to West Virginia alone,” he said.

“I won’t go today,” she said. “I want to be near you. But I’m not giving up on Sophie. I can’t explain it, Lucas, but I know she’s out there.”

There was something in her eyes he had not noticed before. Determination, yes, but more than that. Her eyes had an almost maniacal sheen that made him afraid for her.

“Jan,” he said, “look at me. Look at what’s happened to me by skipping dialysis, by eating more haphazardly than usual, by not taking all my medications faithfully. And now realize…I know it’s hard, but please, Jan, try to face the facts. Sophie still needs dialysis. You know she wasn’t yet to the point where she could get by with Herbalina alone. And she’s missed two Herbalina treatments now. Plus, she’s had no food since the crash, except maybe whatever she could find growing wild in the forest.”

She looked away from him again. The crazy sheen in her eyes had turned to tears, ready to spill over her cheeks at any moment.

“I know it’s terrible to think about,” he said. “I know it’s excruciating, but—”

“And I can’t think about it.” She stood up. “All right. You win. I’m going home.”

There was no anger in her voice, but he knew he’d hurt her by ripping the hope from her heart.

“Please call me if you need anything,” she said. “I’ll check back later to see if they admitted you.”

“Okay,” he said. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

She leaned over to kiss him on the lips. “I love you,” she said. “Get better, please. I can’t lose you, too.”

He watched her leave, the soft-sided cooler containing the Herbalina the last thing he saw as she walked out the door.

He wondered if he should call her later, if he should reveal everything to her. He could tell her that he, too, knew the pain of losing a child. But he knew he would not make that call. She had learned enough of his deception for one day.

J
anine had experienced moments of anguish and despair over the last few years with Sophie, but nothing compared to the way she was feeling now. Sitting on the sofa in her cottage, she watched old videotapes of her daughter. In her mind, the videos were divided into those featuring the relatively healthy Sophie, before she was five, and those starring the sick Sophie, beginning just before the failed transplant. Sophie may have been dancing or skating or mugging for the camera in each period of her life, but Janine could see the difference in her daughter’s face. The healthy Sophie hadn’t a care in the world. Her smile was genuine, unafraid, trusting of the world. The sick Sophie often wore a smile, as well, but it was a brave smile, a smile to mask the fear and discomfort. A smile designed to reassure her mother.

Lucas was in a couple of the most recent videos. One of Janine’s favorite tapes had been made in the tree house just a few weeks earlier, when the Herbalina was beginning to work its magic. A happy, unpained smile was on Sophie’s lips as she helped Lucas sweep off the deck of the tree house. Lucas used a large push broom, while Sophie swept with a smaller
kitchen broom. There were giggles and laughter and lots of affectionate looks passing between them. Lots of love. Watching the film, Janine fought the tears filling her eyes. Was she going to lose both of them? she wondered. Both Sophie and Lucas?

Lucas’s nurse, Sherry, had caught up with Janine before she left the dialysis unit.

“He’s told me about you,” Sherry said. “I know all about your daughter. I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am. This must be a very hard time for you.”

“Yes, it is, thanks,” Janine had said.

“Lucas seems to care a lot about your daughter and you,” Sherry had continued. “He’s a smart guy, but he’s been taking too many chances with his health lately. I’m not sure what’s going on with him.”

“He’s been helping me,” Janine said.

“Right. And I get the impression you had no idea he was sick.”

Janine shook her head. “I didn’t know.”

“Well, now that you
do
know, please try to look after him a bit,” Sherry said. “His body can’t continue this way. If he hadn’t gotten in here when he did, I don’t know how long he would have lasted before he suffered respiratory arrest or had a heart attack. He could easily have died. He still could, if we don’t get his potassium and phosphorous back in balance.”

“I know,” Janine said. She thought of how disappointed she had been in Lucas for remaining in Vienna that night she’d wanted him with her in West Virginia. How many other nights should he have ignored her wishes and come to the hospital for dialysis? “I wish he had told me what was going on with him,” she said.

“He plays his cards close to the vest, that’s for sure,” Sherry said. “I’d known him for months before he told me about his daughter.”

“You mean
my
daughter,” Janine corrected her.

“No, no,” Sherry said. “I meant
his
daughter. The one who died.”

“I…” Janine struggled to think clearly. “Could you have him mixed up with someone else?” she asked. “He has a niece Sophie’s age, but she’s still living…at least as far as I know.”

Sherry looked surprised, then wrinkled her nose. “You mean, you don’t know about his daughter?” she asked.

“He told me he didn’t have any children.”

Sherry let out her breath. “Yikes,” she said. “I think I just put my foot in it.”

“What are you talking about?” Janine asked.

“Well, it’s certainly not my place to tell you,” Sherry said, “and I never would’ve said anything if I thought you—”

“Tell me,” Janine demanded. Her patience was ready to snap. “I can’t take any more of these secrets.”

Sherry looked toward the dialysis room, then turned to face Janine again. “Well, he had a daughter with the same disease,” she said. “It’s usually hereditary, as I’m sure you know, since your own daughter had it.”

“
Has
it,” Janine corrected her. She wasn’t yet ready to speak about Sophie in the past tense.

“And it usually affects boys,” Sherry continued, “but there’s all sorts of variations on it, as you probably know. So, anyway, his daughter also had it, and she died when she was ten.”

Janine shook her head, incredulous. “That’s simply impossible,” she said. “He would have told me.”

“He didn’t even tell you that he was sick himself,” Sherry said gently. “For some reason he hasn’t wanted you to know all of this. I probably never should have said anything.”

Janine looked toward the door of the dialysis unit. She was tempted to march back in there and confront him, make him explain why he had kept so much from her, but she knew this was not the time to press him.

“I’m glad you told me,” she said.

“Maybe that’s why he was willing to jeopardize his own health to help you find your little girl,” Sherry suggested. “You know, a way of making up for his own loss, somehow.”

She’d driven home after the encounter with Sherry, numb and confused. She’d stopped at the mansion to speak briefly with her parents, telling them about Lucas’s illness and how, all those times he’d left work early, he’d been going to dialysis. She realized instantly that she should not have told them. They had no sympathy for him. He should have been honest with them, they said. He shouldn’t have taken a job that was too taxing to his health.

Then they changed the subject to Sophie.

“We want to start planning the memorial service for her,” her father said.

“We thought there should be balloons,” her mother said. “You know, in Sophie’s favorite colors. I thought that would have been a nice touch at Holly Kraft’s funeral, especially since there were children—”

“You don’t plan a memorial service for someone who might still be alive,” Janine said. She stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her. Everyone, even Lucas, was ready and willing to bury Sophie.

Inside the cottage, she’d put on the videotapes. She needed to see Sophie alive.

The next tape had been made during one of Sophie’s hospitalizations, when she was five years old. She was trying to learn an Irish jig from a clown, her hospital gown hanging loose around her small body as she hopped awkwardly from foot to foot, and the image brought a wistful smile to Janine’s lips.

Gravel crunched in the Ayr Creek driveway, and Janine paused the videotape. Standing up, she pulled aside the curtain to look outside. Joe’s car was headed toward the cottage, and she watched as he pulled into the turnaround.

“You’re here,” he said, surprised, when she met him at the door.

“Yes.”

“I was coming over to see your parents,” he said, “but when I saw your car in the turnaround, I thought I’d see if you were home.”

“Come in,” she said, standing back to let him into the cottage.

Joe glanced at the television, at the still image of Sophie and the clown.

“Damn,” he said, his voice quiet. He shoved his hands into his pockets and shut his eyes.

“Sit down,” she said.

He drew in a long breath as he opened his eyes and took a seat on the sofa.

“I’m relieved to see you here, Janine,” he said. “To see that you’re not still hunting for Sophie.”

“I haven’t given up, if that’s what you mean,” she said, sitting at the other end of the sofa. “I had to come back because Lucas was with me, and he got sick.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

She shook her head. “You’re not going to believe this. He has end-stage renal disease.”

“What?”

“I know. It’s crazy. I guess he kept it from me because he didn’t want me to have to worry about him when I already had Sophie to worry about.”

“So…what happened? I mean, what sort of symptoms was he having?”

“He’s on dialysis,” she said. “That’s why he had to come back here the other night. It’s also why he missed some work when he was the Ayr Creek gardener. So, he was having the sort of symptoms you’d expect from someone who wasn’t being careful about getting the right amount of dialysis. He was very tired and weak and short of breath. His face and hands and feet
were swollen. He’s in dialysis right now, and they’re probably going to admit him to the hospital to get him stabilized.”

“I just can’t believe this,” Joe said. “Do you think that’s why he’s been so interested in Sophie?”

“Of course,” she said. “Or, at least, that’s part of it.”

“What’s the rest of it?”

“He had a daughter with kidney disease, too, Joe. She died when she was ten.”

He looked at her blankly. “Have you known that all along?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I only found out tonight, and not from Lucas, either. His nurse let it slip.”

Joe looked at the still image on the television screen. “Janine…” he began, but his voice trailed off.

“What?” she prompted.

He shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “I need to get some answers from Lucas, that’s all. This is getting weirder and weirder.”

“What is?” she asked. “Answers about what?”

“Don’t you think it’s strange that he wound up working at Ayr Creek, where there just happens to be a little girl with the same disease his daughter had?”

“Maybe that’s why he took the job,” she said. “Remember, my father said that Lucas seemed uninterested in working at Ayr Creek until he mentioned that Sophie lived here, a little girl with kidney disease. I think Ayr Creek probably seemed like a step down from Monticello for him, but when he heard about Sophie being here, he couldn’t resist.”

“Well, maybe,” Joe said, but he didn’t seem at all convinced. He looked at the TV again. “Do you think I could borrow some of these videos?” he asked. “I’d love the chance to look at them sometime when I’m in…a little better control.”

“Of course.” She leaned forward to pick up three of the tapes from the coffee table. “I’ve already gone through these,” she said, handing them to him.

“Thanks.” He rested the boxes in his lap, running his fingers over the smooth cover of the one on top. “Are you serious about going back to the woods to look for Sophie again?” he asked.

“Absolutely. She’s out there, Joe. I mean, I realize that from a logical perspective, she may not have been able to survive, but I still want to find her. And the truth is…I still have a feeling she’s okay.”

“I’d offer to go with you, but I—”

“No, thanks,” she said. “I have no problem going alone. I got a GPS from Valerie and a map and my cell phone.”

“I don’t think your cell will work in the woods, though.”

She feared he was right about that. “I’ll be fine,” she said.

“Won’t you be afraid, being out there alone?”

She smiled. She had thought this through. “No,” she said. “If Sophie could do it, I certainly can. It probably makes no sense to you, but I feel close to her out there. And being alone, without Lucas or anyone, will make me feel that much closer to her. To what she experienced.” Her eyes burned, and she blinked back the tears. “I’m just torn about leaving Lucas,” she continued. “I thought he was going to die, Joe. I really did. And I just couldn’t bear…” She stopped speaking, knowing that it was unkind of her to let Joe see just how powerful her feelings were for Lucas.

“You really love him, don’t you?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know it’s not what you wanted. What you’ve been hoping for. But I do love him.”

“It just bothers me that he lies to you.”

“I think he had good reasons,” she said. “At least, I think his reasoning seemed good enough to him.”

Joe looked at the floor a moment, then his nostrils flared slightly with the intake of breath. “I’m not so sure that’s all he’s lied to you about.”

“What do you mean?”

He shook his head as though he regretted his words, and got
to his feet. “Nothing in particular,” he said. “Just…use your head with him and not only your heart. Promise me that?”

She thought of pushing him to tell her more, but tonight, she really didn’t want to know.

“Okay,” she agreed, standing up to walk him to the door. “I promise.”

After Joe left, she leaned against the door and shut her eyes. Tomorrow, before she headed back to West Virginia to continue her solo search for Sophie, she would talk with Lucas. She wanted to know why he had felt the need to keep so much from her. For tonight, though, she would have to suffer with the mystery.