I smile sadly; the rest of me is a statue. I look at Audrey’s face just before she opens her eyes.
“Hey,” I whisper.
“Why the hell are you whispering?” Audrey says loudly with a jovial laugh from the nest in her bed.
“I’m sorry I woke you,” I say in my regular voice.
“You didn’t,” she says. “I wasn’t asleep. I was meditating.”
“Ah,” I say, nodding and wondering if she’s joking. I shift from one foot to the other. I can’t decide if she’s putting on an act for me right now. I decide to cut to the chase.
“So, thanks for telling me you have cancer.”
Audrey laughs again. Even though she looks weak, her laugh is normal. I step farther into the room and sit down gingerly at her feet.
“Whoops,” she says.
“Whoops?” I ask.
Audrey shrugs. “For not telling you.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “I understand. But don’t worry, I’m not scared of you.”
“Thanks, Daisy,” she says softly.
“Are you feeling okay?” I ask.
“Actually, yeah. I’m feeling a lot better now. The hospital gave me some painkillers and I slept most of yesterday. Good stuff. Of course, even though I’m feeling better, my parents made me promise to stay in bed for another couple of days.”
I nod, not sure what to say next.
“I read your email a little while ago,” Audrey says. “Sorry for not getting back sooner. That sucks about your parents dragging you to Kansas City. Oh, but of course I wasn’t mad at you. How could you think that?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I just…” My voice trails off. “Anyway, I’m back.”
“I’m glad,” Audrey says. “Speaking of which, did my brother pick you up in KC? What’s going on?”
I crawl up and sit next to her, leaning against the headboard like I did earlier with Matt.
“We’ve got a lot to talk about,” I say with a broad smile despite the circumstances.
Audrey sits up and gets comfortable, then looks at me excitedly. “Okay, spill.”
Finally, when I can’t procrastinate any longer, I dial Mason’s number. I have a nervous stomach; this must be what normal kids feel like when they break the rules. I hear him pick up and brace for the worst. But the worst doesn’t come.
“Are you all right?” he asks, concerned.
Surprised, I’m silent.
“Daisy, are you there?”
I clear my throat. “Yes,” I say weakly. I clear it again. “I’m here.”
“Are you all right?” Mason asks again.
“I’m fine,” I say. “I wanted…” My voice trails off.
“You wanted to see your friend,” he answers for me.
“Yes,” I say.
“I understand,” Mason says. Then, softer, “I wish you would have talked to me about it.”
“I know, but you were at Wade’s and I just found out and I felt like I needed to be with Audrey right away.”
“How did you get there?” Mason asks.
“Audrey’s brother, Matt, came and picked me up,” I say, rationalizing that it’s the truth; I’m just altering the timeline.
“Uh-huh,” Mason says, like he’s going to ask more about Matt.
“It’s really upsetting,” I say, bringing it back to Audrey.
“I know, Daisy,” Mason says softly. “You let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”
“Anything?” I ask.
“Within reason,” Mason says hesitantly.
I look around to make sure I’m still alone in the McKeans’ kitchen.
“Revive her,” I whisper. “When it happens, I mean. Bring her back.”
Mason actually laughs into the phone. “You know I can’t do that, Daisy,” he says. “As much as I’d like to, you know that I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. When she dies, you stick the needle into her vein. She’ll come back,” I say, tears threatening to crop up again. “Just like me.”
“She’s not just like you,” Mason says. “When I heard where you’d gone and why, I looked into her medical history. Daisy, her body is broken. Irreparable. I can’t give a two-million-dollar treatment to someone it has no chance of working on.”
“Is this about money?” I hiss.
“Not entirely,” Mason answers in a businesslike manner. Sometimes I wish he wasn’t so honest with me. “Things would be different were she in good health to start, but she’s not. Add on top the hefty price tag, and you’ve got two big strikes against doing it. And she’s not even in the program!”
“Maybe God would make an exception,” I murmur.
“You know God doesn’t make exceptions,” Mason says quietly. “No one in; no one out.”
“That’s so… wrong,” I protest. “Revive helps people. Shouldn’t it be helping more people?”
“Perhaps,” Mason says thoughtfully. “But regardless of that, as you well know, the drug doesn’t work on cancer patients.”
“But when was the last time that theory was tested?” I ask, trying to keep my volume in check. “The lab is always updating the formula. Maybe the newest version will work. It’s at least worth a—”
“Daisy?”
I stop talking, but don’t answer.
“Daisy, it won’t work,” he says softly. Mason doesn’t have to finish his sentence; I know what he means. I get a sick feeling in my stomach, so I change the subject.
“When are you coming back?” I ask.
“Will you be okay if we stick to our original plan?” Mason asks. “Returning Monday evening?”
“Yeah,” I mutter.
“Would you like me to ask the McKeans if you could stay at their house tonight? So you’re not all alone?”
“Sure,” I say, with little enthusiasm.
“All right,” Mason says. “I’ll take care of it. But check in with me tomorrow afternoon, okay?”
“I will,” I promise.
“Oh, and Daisy?” Mason says.
“What?” I ask, just wanting to hang up.
“If you ever take off without telling me again, you’re going to be grounded for the rest of your life.”
fifteen
I’m glad, then feel guilty for being glad, when Audrey goes to bed at eight o’clock. I jump in my seat when she abruptly stands and dramatically bids Matt and me farewell, barely one second into the credits for the first movie. After she leaves, we look at each other quizzically from opposite ends of the couch.
“Want to go somewhere?” Matt asks, like he’s been waiting all evening. He’s in jeans; I have on yoga pants.
“This late?” I ask in protest, even though my stomach is flipping at the thought of going somewhere—anywhere—with Matt.
“It’s not so late, Grandma,” he says with a gleam in his eye. He stands up. “I’ll go tell my mom we’re going out for a bit. Get dressed and meet me back down here, unless you want to go outside in your pj’s.
“These aren’t pj’s,” I correct him. “They are stylish loungewear.”
“Do you want to go out in your stylish loungewear?” he asks.
“Not really,” I admit.
Matt heads off to find his mom, and I rush to the guest room—I’m staying in here tonight instead of in Audrey’s room, so I won’t disturb her—and quickly change into jeans, then throw a light sweater over my red shirt. Then I remove the sweater and the red shirt, and put on a purple T-shirt with ruffle embellishments instead. It’s one I borrowed from Audrey that, according to her, “pimps my eyes.” I apply lip gloss, let down my hair, put the sweater back on, and meet Matt downstairs.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hi,” I say back.
“You look good,” he says, turning toward the front door.