My Steps Are Ordered (3 page)

As soon as the door swung shut, Keith stalked over to Gina, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her. The kiss was short but fiery and said everything he could not say with words.

“You shouldn't have done that.” Gina wiped her hand across her mouth. “How dare you make this about you and me when my son is . . .”

“You're right. I'm sorry,” Keith said to appease her, though deep inside he wasn't the least bit apologetic. He needed to have some sort of physical contact.

“A hug would've sufficed,” she said, reading his mind. Gina looked into his eyes and raised her hand to graze his cheek, and he knew he was forgiven.

Without breaking eye contact, she moved her hand down to his shirt. Keith had been dressed in a light brown suit, but he had discarded the jacket sometime during all the commotion. Her hand came across a small box in his pocket. Curious, Gina looked at him.

“Your birthday present,” Keith offered. He pulled it out and handed it to her.

Gina looked at the box and bit her bottom lip. “I feel tacky taking a gift from you while my son is fighting for his life.”

“Open it,” Keith commanded. “Trust me. It's okay.”

Gina complied and with jittery hands opened the package. “It's a locket.” She lifted it with care and tried to pry open the small clasp. She was all thumbs.

Some things never change.
With a rueful smile, Keith undid the clasp for her. He remembered another time when he had to help her with her buttons. Gina was so graceful in many ways, but when it came to fine motor tasks, she could become klutzy.

She peered inside the tiny locket. “There's a picture of Trey.” A fresh load of grateful tears fell. “I love it, Keith.”

Keith felt pleased that his gift had brought Gina some measure of comfort. He put the chain around her neck. Gina held on to the locket while Keith held her.

A few minutes later Michael returned with news of their mother's impending arrival. “I had my driver go get her.” He juggled three cups of coffee. Keith saw that he had also raided the snack machine, buying a plethora of candy and chips, though no one felt like eating.

It was a little after dawn when Geraldine Ward rushed into the room. By then, Michael had nodded off in a corner chair, and Gina had drifted into a light sleep, resting her head on Keith's shoulder. Keith smiled at the sight of his mother and placed his finger over his lips before pointing to Gina and Michael.

He saw her nod with understanding. Her silver-gray hair was styled in a sophisticated bob. Dressed in black pants and a beautiful metallic gray top, with silver earrings dangling from her ears and a matching necklace around her long, graceful neck, Gerry looked years younger than her fifty-eight years and at times was mistaken for Keith and Michael's older sister instead of their mom.

Keith eased Gina off his arm, and her eyes popped open. He walked over to his mother. He gave her such a tight hug that her feet lifted in the air.

Michael stirred and awoke. “You made it!” he exclaimed and welcomed Gerry with visible relief.

Gina squirmed under Gerry's knowing glance. She experienced a moment of déjà vu as she thought about another hospital and another time. When Michael was in a coma at Long Island Jewish Hospital, Gerry had walked in on her and Keith in a similar cozy position. She envied Keith's nonchalance then and now. He wasn't the least bit bothered by what his mother thought, but she was. Gerry knew how she felt about Keith. The older woman had even advised her not to marry Michael out of a sense of obligation. However, Gina had been adamant that she loved Michael. And that was the truth. Breaking eye contact with Gerry, Gina looked over at Michael and smiled. She did love Michael, in a way.

She was just a somersaulting, crazy fool in love with Keith. Gina shot to her feet and greeted her mother-in-law with a hug. Gerry offered all the right sentiments, and in the face of this maternal warmth, Gina felt tears threaten again.

It was times like these that Gina missed her own mother, Lucille Price, who had died from a sudden stroke. She was nineteen when her mother passed, and the pain hadn't receded with time. Lucille hadn't lived long enough to see Gina marry or to meet her grandson. Gina also yearned for a father to call, but while growing up, she hadn't known little more than his name. Feeling overwhelmed, Gina excused herself and stepped outside the room to be alone with her thoughts.

“Are you all right?”

Gina turned toward the voice. Michael had concern written all over his face. “Yeah,” she said.

“What's wrong? Well, besides the obvious.” Michael bent over, then tilted her chin upward, looking directly into her eyes.

Gina knew how perceptive he could be, but she wasn't sure if she was up to talking about it. She shrugged and released a small sigh. “It's nothing.”

“It's never nothing.”

Gina saw the question reflected in his eyes and decided to explain. “Well, I know my mother is gone, but I wish I knew my father. Because then I would have someone to call, like you did.”

“Oh, baby.” Michael cradled his wife in his arms and they re-entered the room. “I know you're terrified. I've made several trips to the nurses' station to find out if there is any news. I know that they're doing their job, but those nurses know what's wrong. However, they wouldn't cave, no matter how much I ranted.”

The door swung open and Dr. Newman entered the room.

Everyone gathered around the doctor with fear and dread.

When they heard the news, Keith had to hold on to his mother to keep her from falling. Gina fell into Michael's arms.

Trey had leukemia.

Acute lymphocytic leukemia, a common form of cancer in children Trey's age. His bone marrow had produced a large number of abnormal white blood cells. These defective white blood cells were unable to protect his body against disease. However, since his white blood count was below fifty thousand, he had a good chance of beating the disease. Gina clung to those words like she would a lifeline.

Trey would be transported later that day to the Aflac Cancer and Blood Disorders Center at Children's Healthcare of Atlanta at Scottish Rite. It was about twenty miles from where Gina and Michael lived. Trey would be in his own private room. Dr. Newman had referred Trey to Dr. Milliner, a renowned oncologist.

In a daze, Keith drove Gina home to throw some clothes in a small suitcase and to grab some of Trey's toys. There was space in the hospital room for one parent to stay overnight. She intended to take advantage of the twenty-four-hour access. Michael and Keith were given twenty-four-hour ID badges, so they could visit at any time. Michael and his mother remained behind with Trey. He received his first dose of chemotherapy before his transfer.

While Keith showered, Gina sat at the dinette table and tried to eat breakfast, which Keith had ordered her to do. She dropped the turkey bacon, fighting the feeling that she was about to empty her stomach of all its contents. She knew her son was at a great facility, but she didn't know those nurses and she didn't trust them. She had to be with Trey.

Gina's single consolation was that Trey had been conscious and alert when she left him. He'd been playing just before she left—unaware of the disease that was attacking his body. She hadn't been able to hold back her tears when Trey started crying as she walked out the door because he wanted to go home. He was too young to understand the full implications of what was happening and he was scared.

Gina stopped eating. It felt like she was eating cardboard. Her stomach felt like it had rocks in it.

Gina couldn't fathom how Trey could have been playing happily one week ago and be in this condition today. There had been no real warning signs. She racked her brain, trying to figure it out. It was so weird, because Trey had always been a picture of good health. She could not even recall the last time he had been sick. Again, Gina tried to remember any telltale signs of his illness, but there had been none. He had not seemed pale or breathless.

Or had she been too focused on Keith lately to pay really close attention to her son? She mulled over that question until he entered the kitchen. She caught a whiff of Axe body wash—she loved that scent called Phoenix. Michael used it at times.

Eyeing Keith's stealth-like movements as he approached the dinette, she wanted to resent him for causing her to take her eyes off of Trey. But the longer she looked at him, the less angry she felt, even with herself. He needed a shave. He was as tired as Michael and she were. He loved her family. It wasn't his fault that she found him so sinfully distracting. She closed her eyes and shook her head. Right before her party, she'd wished Keith wouldn't get on the plane and go back to New York. Well, she had her wish.
Be careful what you wish for.
She hung her head and began to cry.

She felt Keith's arms circle her.

“I don't get this. How could cancer rear its head like this? He was fine, and now, all of a sudden, he might be dying.” Gina said.

Keith sat down across from her, taking her hand. “I don't know, Gina. I'm at a loss myself. But Trey's a fighter. He'll pull through this.”

She couldn't ask for anything more. Except for a miracle from God. A God she didn't know, and one who didn't seem to still be giving those out. He hadn't done anything to save her mother from dying of a stroke, and He hadn't kept cancer cells from invading her child's body.

A week of seeing her son squirm with discomfort and battle nausea from the chemotherapy tore Gina to her core. All she could do was wash the sores in his mouth and wipe his pale, drawn face. She fought to hold herself together, but she felt she just wasn't doing enough.

After one such episode, Gina felt a dam explode. She charged out of the room and ran smack-dab into another woman.

“Ouch!”

“I'm sorry! I didn't see you,” Gina said, apologizing. She rubbed her elbow.

“It's okay. I wasn't watching where I was going,” came the cheerful reply, though the woman hugged her chest.

Gina looked into the greenest eyes she'd ever seen and let out a small gasp when she realized the woman was rocking a small bundle in her arms.

“This is Kendall, my boy. It's hard to tell, but he had a head full of curly hair and the fattest cheeks you've ever seen. Then at five months . . . we got the news. He had his first birthday yesterday.” She held him out for Gina to see. He looked gaunt, pale. He had no hair at all—no eyelashes, no eyebrows, nothing. Gina placed her hand over her mouth. He didn't look like a one-year-old. In fact, Kendall looked more like a three-month-old baby.

“Is he . . .? Is he . . .?” Gina gulped. She couldn't say the words.

The woman tilted her head, requesting that Gina follow her down the hallway. Why was this woman so upbeat when her child looked so frail and sick?

Gina looked at her watch. Trey had fallen asleep five minutes ago. She knew from experience that he would be out for a while. She followed the woman to the end of the hall. They entered the last room on the right. It took her a moment to realize this was Kendall's room. It was smaller than Trey's. Seeing the sparse surroundings, Gina's heart overflowed.

“I'm Kelly, by the way. Kelly Olson. My husband, Herman, left me when he saw how sick Kendall was. He blames me for it since cancer runs in my family.” With a hum, she placed her child in the bassinet provided and swaddled him in the baby blue blanket. “There, there, my son. Close your eyes and rest your head.”

Gina couldn't help it. She had to ask. “How are you humming and smiling after what you told me? If it were me, I'd be crying my eyes out, angry at the world.”

“I learned early on to accept what I can't change,” Kelly replied. “I know it sounds crazy, but instead of being mad and depressed, I choose to remember the gift God gave me for the short time I've had him.” Gina saw her reach out to pat Kendall's little bottom. Her heart melted.

“Why are you talking about him in past tense?”

“He's dying,” Kelly said. “That's why Herman left. He refused to watch his son die. I stayed because I refuse to leave him while he still lives. Every day, after I get off from my shift at the restaurant, I come here. No matter the time, I come. It's tough doing it on my own, though. I never had to worry about providing for Kendall's basic essentials before, but he keeps me going.”

Her optimism was remarkable. Gina shook her head. “I can't even begin to understand your drive, but I'm glad I ran into you.”

“What about you?”

For the first time in a while, Gina smiled. “I have a son. His name is Trey. He's getting sick from the chemotherapy, but he's fighting.”

Kelly nodded. With a pained voice, she whispered, “Good for him. Good for him.” She turned toward her child and with a singsong voice said, “If only you could fight, little one, but I know you'll soon find rest.”

Overcome, Gina rushed out of the room. She didn't stop moving until she stood outside Trey's room. She couldn't believe what she'd encountered. She wondered if Kelly was cuckoo. No one in their right mind would be so accepting of their child dying.

Her compassion stirred, though, as she thought of Kendall.

Gina cracked the door open and retrieved her iPad. She logged on and went to Macy's website. After a great number of clicks, she reviewed her loaded cart, inputted the hospital's address, chose the next-day delivery option, and hit the PAYMENT button. She logged off, anticipating her delivery.

The next day Kelly sought her out. Her face was puffy from crying. “I know it was you. You're my angel. After you left, I kicked myself for not even getting your name. Never did I imagine that I would see all those clothes and toys in Kendall's room. For a moment, I wondered if I'd read the room number wrong.” She hugged Gina. “That you would be so generous when your son is fighting for his life means so much to me. Thank you.”

Gina's chest expanded. “I was glad to help. I've also asked Dr. Milliner to consult on your case. I know I took some liberties, but I'm covering the costs if you agree. I've already spoken to my husband about it, and he's on board.”

Kelly's mouth popped open. She wrung her hands. “I can't accept it. It's too much. I'm a stranger.”

Gina held on to both her arms. “When I bumped into you, I was aggravated and at a loss. You did something for me. Watching you with your son empowered me to keep going. It's you whom I have to thank.”

“Five minutes,” Kelly replied. “That's all it was.”

“Those five minutes were enough to teach me about gratitude.”

“Do you think Dr. Milliner can help Kendall?” Her voice sounded hopeful.

“I don't know, but he's the best,” Gina said. “If you'd like, when Trey's asleep, I can sit with Kendall.” She didn't even know why she was offering, but it pained her to see the baby in there by himself. She had walked past his room a few times and heard his little whimper. Gina knew she had Trey, and she'd put him first, but in her heart, she knew Kendall needed help.

Such was her pattern for the next few weeks. She'd read with Trey, care for him, and then sit with Kendall. Finally, with Kelly's permission, the staff brought Kendall into Trey's room for most of the day, until his mother returned. Keith, Michael, and Gerry fell in love with him. Gina also volunteered to start a story hour with some of the other children in the ward. Sometimes, while Trey was asleep, she'd take Kendall with her when she read to them.

Then, on August 5, Dr. Milliner informed them that he recommended a bone marrow transplant for Trey as the chemo treatments hadn't been successful. So Gina and the entire family had to be tested to see if they were potential bone marrow donors. They gave blood and had their cheeks swabbed. They would know soon.

Please, let there be a match,
Gina thought at least one hundred times that day. She looked at Kendall. He was getting better. To everyone's surprise, his little cheeks were fuller than before. She felt good that she was able to help someone else.

She looked at her son. If only she could help her own child. He'd lost most of his beautiful curls. Even his eyelashes and eyebrows were gone. She gulped. All she could do was hope.

Then the results came. None of them were a match.

“No, no, no,” she wailed, clutching her stomach.

“What are our next steps? What can we do?” she heard Michael demand.

“Our next step is to get him on the national donor list,” Dr. Milliner said.

“Consider it done,” Keith stated and grabbed his cell phone. “I'm on it.”

 

To Gina, everything was happening too fast. She was experiencing such a whirlwind of emotions that she felt like she was in a bubble. A daze. Michael and Keith were a blessing, because all she could think of was Trey. Everything else for the next couple weeks was a blur.

Keith had made himself at home at their house as they had more than enough space in their home to accommodate him. Since Gerry lived forty minutes away, it was more convenient for her to spend the night, as well. She went home only to check on things and switch out clothes.

It was late July. A month had passed since Trey was hospitalized, and Gina was again expressing her gratitude to Keith.

“I know you've been a godsend. I don't know what you did to get him to the top of the donor list, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't appreciate it,” Gina said, bouncing Kendall on her lap as she sat in Trey's hospital room, “And I felt a little hopeful when Michael told me that childhood leukemia has a remission rate of ninety percent.”

Michael was a man on a mission. For months he'd been on the Internet with his laptop searching out information on leukemia. Now he sounded like a textbook, talking doctor lingo with the best of them. Gina applauded Michael for his efforts, because she knew that he would look out for their son. She also knew this was his way of escaping and not having to sit in the hospital and deal with the minute-by-minute agony.

Gina bunched her fists. “Trey has the spunk to beat this disease, and I'm going to hold on to that. He's got to because—” Kendall reached up to tug on her hair. Despite her worries, she couldn't help but smile at the cherub on her lap.

“I've been going to the chapel and praying for him every day. I believe God will come through,” Keith said, continuing their conversation. He held his hands out to take Kendall from Gina.

Gina nodded, but inside she couldn't help but blame God. Why would He allow a little child to suffer? Still, she welcomed all the prayers on her son's behalf. She continued, “I'm so glad Trey has Althea to provide round-the-clock individualized care.”

A petite and stately immigrant from Russia, Althea Watson was no-nonsense and reserved all her charm for her young patient. She had been with Trey for two days. Even a blind man could see that he was in good hands.

“I think you and Michael could convince Dr. Milliner to send Trey home if Althea's willing to go home with you. I know he's been wanting to go home.”

Gina jumped at his idea. She felt there was no place like home, sometimes. She'd miss Kendall and the other children, but Trey was her first concern. Besides, she and Kelly had forged a bond. Kendall was in remission and would be discharged the following week but they would remain in touch.

Gina remembered Kelly's reaction to the good news. “God has heard my prayers,” Kelly had said.