Dana's Valley Part 11

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

I WILL NEVER FORGET the summer of my thirteenth year. So many things seemed to happen at once that it made my head spin.

As my birthday was drawing nearer I could sense that something was going on. Dana and Mom seemed to always be sending each other little signals and whispering together until they knew I was approaching. I was sure something was up.

Marcy and her mom came to pick me up the morning of my birthday and managed to keep me busy for the entire afternoon. When I arrived home in the evening, our whole yard was like an outside carnival with streamers and balloons and party decorations. Then cars started arriving, mostly occupied by friends from church. Not just the kids my age, but entire families. We had a huge BBQ^ in our backyard. Mothers brought salads and other side dishes, and the gifts began to heap up on the table Mom had placed there for that purpose.

It was the grandest celebration I had ever seen. Even bigger than Dana's thirteenth party had been. And Dana seemed to enjoy it even more than I did. Wearing a cute182.summery hat decorated with flowers, she pretty much took over as hostess, then cheered and exclaimed over every gift I opened. She was right beside me when I made the first slice into the huge birthday cake.

And Brett came. I guess that was my very best present. He stood back and didn't mix much, but he did give me a smile and a little wave. He even handed me a gift-personally. In typical Brett style, it was tucked in an obviously used brown paper bag. But inside I found a brand-new basketball. I hugged Brett and almost cried, I felt so good. There was something in his eyes that seemed to say he hadn't decided to completely abandon us.

After the party finally ended and all the cars had left, I just sat and stared, thinking back. Mom was busy trying to clean up leftover food, and Dad was gathering limp streamers and stuffing them into a black trash bag. Dana had been sent to put Corey to bed, and I just sat-and looked and thought. I guess I still couldn't believe it had all really happened. It was in such contrast to our entire last year. I was reminded of what a difference it made when everyone in the family was well and family plans could be made-and carried out. When life wasn't all pills and shots, and basins that needed emptying and sheets that needed was.h.i.+ng.

I looked over at the heap of presents I would have to make room for in my room-our room, actually, since Dana and I were together again. Deep inside I recognized a truth. Not one of the items, no matter how special they were, compared to the best gift of all-the inexpressible feeling of things finally being right with my world, of our family laughing together and loving each other.

Dana was much better. The terrible bouts of intense illness after chemotherapy were now behind us.

DANA'S Valley * 183Gradually-oh, so gradually-she had begun to feel more herself. And then the good news from the doctors. Her white blood cell count was to an acceptable level and a list of other factors was checking out okay. She was medically "in remission." That in itself was enough to make our home seem like a brand-new place. Not a return to how things had been. I realized that things would never go back to the way they were before Dana got sick. I knew by now it was unrealistic to ever think things could. We had all changed so much over the year of her illness. It was different. We were different. But it was good. After all the family had gone through together, it felt like we had been released to live again.

And nothing was said about money and bills. I knew Dad must still be struggling to get us back on track financially and in every other way, but at least now he could see there was hope. He was able to return to a regular workweek schedule and gradually was catching up on the things that had been pressing. It was a relief to see some worry lines begin to leave his forehead. He even took some time on Sat.u.r.days to do things with the family. Like Corey's soccer games and little trips to movies or on picnics. It was wonderful.

For a time Brett continued his sessions with our youth pastor. But as the summer pa.s.sed, it became tougher and tougher to get Brett to keep the counseling appointments, and finally they were dropped altogether. We all hoped he would find good things with which to fill his time.

There had been improvement in his att.i.tude, but we all knew he hadn't returned to his old self. He was still too sullen at those rare times when he was actually home with the rest of us. In August he moved his belongings184.into the bas.e.m.e.nt, where his promised room had never materialized, and he began to leave early in the morning and come home late at night-sometimes after everyone else had gone to bed. We prayed for him often, and Corey was relentless in asking for his involvement with family plans.

Corey seemed to be about the only one he'd talk to. Brett still called him Squirt and gave him occasional rides in his car. Corey loved it. He'd sit up there in the pa.s.senger seat, his hand thrust out the open window to catch the breeze, and grin from ear to ear.

I think it made Mom nervous when Brett took Corey off like that, but she held her tongue. She was convinced Corey was the family link that kept Brett still with us. In all fairness to Brett, I'm sure he would not have tried to influence Corey to rebel as he had. In fact, I think their relations.h.i.+p had just the opposite effect. I heard Brett telling Corey that it was important for him to go to church with the family. I didn't know how Brett could say that when I knew what he was planning at some point down the road. Corey didn't seem to question it, though.

Brett had found another job and was working in the city as a sorter and loader for UPS. I think he liked his job. He said it made muscles. He had grown so much over the last year-not taller as much as bigger. Sometimes I felt a little afraid of him-he almost looked like an adult. He was shaving too. Not just because he wanted to-it was actually necessary. And now he was into body building. I understood from Marcy, who heard it from some of her friends, that Brett spent a lot of time in the local gym working out. I knew he liked short-sleeved tight T-s.h.i.+rts, and he often rolled up the little bit of sleeve they had to show off his biceps.DANA S VALLEY * 185.So Brett was still in our lives-yet in a way he wasn't. He never had breakfast with the family, was rarely home, and drove himself to church. But he really didn't make many waves either. He just closed us out. I hated that feeling. I was awfully glad he was still in touch with Travis.

I knew Dad and Mom hoped Brett would settle down and show some interest in school again. Brett would be a senior in the upcoming school year and had some serious work to do if he wanted to graduate with reasonably good grades. Dad had established a college fund for each one of us, and though it wouldn't pay for all of Brett's schooling, it would go a long way toward helping him through. I think Brett would have liked to blow the money on a cooler car-or maybe on finis.h.i.+ng his room downstairs. But Dad was firm about that. It was a college fund. That was the only way the money would be released.& & &.On one of those famous lazy days of summer, Dana and I were sitting on our back porch sipping lemonade after a bike ride. Grandma came out with her own gla.s.s to join us. She had made a few trips recently to spend time with some of her former friends. That had been a blessing. Though Corey always missed her, we could live and breathe without worrying how our noise and bustle would affect an older person. I think Mom breathed a deep sigh and enjoyed the quiet. Mom still had a ways to go to be back to her old self. I think she was even slower to recover than Dana.

Anyway, Grandma was back with us again, and she came out to the porch, pushed back one of the wicker186.chairs, and sat down. I thought she looked just a little bit brighter and more cheerful than normal. I guess Dana noticed it too because we both just sort of fell silent and looked at Grandma.

"I've been thinking," she began, "how would you girls like to be junior bridesmaids?"

It seemed like a very strange question-especially since we didn't know anyone who was getting married. But Dana was nodding her head, with its hair returning nicely, as though the question made sense. "It would be fun," I heard her say and wondered what she was talking about. She and Grandma exchanged smiles. I just frowned, trying to sort out the strange conversation.

Grandma beamed. She reached down and smoothed out her new linen skirt. Her rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes made her seem a lot younger.

"Ben and I have decided to be married."

I don't suppose there was anything she could have said that would have shocked me more. In the first place, I didn't even know who Ben was. There had been no hints, as far as I could remember, about a suitor or a possible marriage for Grandma.

What about Grandpa? was my first thought, and I quickly reminded myself that Grandpa had been gone for two years. He wouldn't be caring about whether Grandma married Ben or not.

I noticed Dana had straightened up from her relaxed position in the matching wicker chair. Her eyes reflected my own surprise, but she asked softly, "Who is Ben?"

Grandma flushed an even deeper pink. "You'll soon see," she said. "I've invited him over to meet the family on Sunday."

"Does . . . does Mom know?" asked Dana.DANA S Valley 187Grandma brushed at her skirt again. Then she looked up and her eyes were bright. "Your mother knows. I just had a nice long chat with her and David." Grandma was one of the few people who still called our dad David.

"And it's okay?" I blurted out before I could check myself. "They said you can marry Ben?"

Grandma chuckled like a schoolgirl. "Well ... I don't suppose I needed to ask their permission," she said. Then she sobered somewhat. "But I did want their blessing. And yes . . . they gave it."

I suppose we should have been congratulating Grandma and telling her how happy we were for her and all that. But I'm sure Dana was as dumbstruck as I was. Neither of us could think of a thing to say.

"So . . ." she prompted. "Junior bridesmaids?"

I tried to regain my wits, but it was Dana who spoke. "That would be fun," she said. "We'd be honored- wouldn't we, Erin?"

I managed a nod . . . and finally a smile. Maybe it would be fun. But it would seem strange. To be bridesmaids at your own grandmother's wedding. I wasn't sure what our friends would say. You picture yourself as the bridesmaid for your sister or your best friend. But your grandmother?

Grandma Walsh didn't waste time in preparing for her wedding. It seemed that she and her Ben had already been making plans.

We met him, just as Grandma had promised. He wasn't at all like Grandpa Walsh. That disappointed me a bit. He was shorter and stockier and had gray hair, what there was of it, and sort of washed-out blue eyes. He wore heavy gla.s.ses over them so you couldn't really see the color. But he was pleasant enough, and he sure made188.Grandma perk up. She had always been talkative, but now she was almost giddy.

The wedding, two weeks later, was a small affair. Grandma had one of her lifelong friends as her matron of honor, and Dana and I were junior bridesmaids. Corey was the ring bearer, even though Mom thought he was getting a little big for that role-he was seven now and had shot up to be quite tall for his age. Corey didn't seem to mind.

Ben, or Mr. Paulsen as I had decided to call him, since I didn't suppose I would ever be comfortable calling him Grandpa, had one of his friends as his best man and a couple of his grandsons as his attendants. One of them was rather cute, but the other had an acne problem and seemed dreadfully self-conscious. Dana and I made no real attempt to get to know them, and they were both so shy I think they were relieved that we didn't talk much.

Brett went with us to the wedding. He even wore a suit. I think Brett rather liked Grandma. He didn't say much, but I saw him give her a big smile. And he did arrive with a gift, all fancily store wrapped. I knew Brett, who was all thumbs when it came to artsy things, wouldn't have been able to wrap it like that.

A small moving truck had already come to our house for the things Grandma wanted to take with her into her new life. She had given a number of personal items to Dana and me as she had sorted through. I half hoped she'd pa.s.s me the special picture of Uncle Eric-but she didn't. She gazed at it long and hard, and I could see a tear form. Then she carefully wrapped it and tucked it in her suitcase.

It was strange to go back home after the wedding and not have Grandma in the house and to know she wouldn'tDANA'S Valley * 189be coming back to stay again. I didn't even want to look toward the door that led to her rooms. I knew what it looked like in there. All her little knickknacks and personal items were gone. Only a few pieces of furniture that she no longer wanted remained behind. I wondered what we would do with those rooms now. Maybe Mom and Dad would take them over and Brett could move up from the bas.e.m.e.nt to their old room. But n.o.body brought up the subject, and I sure wasn't going to do so. We all made our own adjustments to Grandma's rather sudden departure and those empty rooms.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

WHEN SCHOOL OPENED again that fall, Dana was feeling even stronger and was back to attending cla.s.ses regularly. But she had lost so much school time we all wondered what the year would bring. Mom spoke with her school counselor, and they decided to have her proceed into ninth grade. She would begin high school and I would stay in junior high. Though I knew it would be a year during which she'd be diligently laboring to catch up, I still felt a little blue about being left behind.

I guess I still missed Marcy-even more than I realized. She had taken up with Sarah Brown, a new girl from church who went to the same school. She said that we were still best friends, but I could tell things had changed. There really was no one in my school, not even Bull, to whom I felt close enough to talk to about girl things and growing up and all that. In the past, I would have shared my questions and doubts and fears with Dana. But she already had her hands full trying to get back on track with her own life again. I felt sometimes that I was floundering. Trying to sort out my feelings and frustrations on my own. Whether I was still a kid or had192.to be an adult. It was all confusing-and rather lonely.

The kickoff event for the youth was an all-night party at our church. Dana and I arrived on Friday evening and threw our sleeping bags and pillows down in the cla.s.sroom designated for the girls before going to join the rest of the group in the gym. We played some basketball, then ate pizza. Most of the kids, including Dana, left to watch videos, while a few of us stayed to shoot hoops. It quickly turned into a contest.

Since Marcy had little desire to play, she sat chatting with Sarah on the sidelines, and they cheered periodically. After some time I quit and dropped down onto the bench beside them.

Marcy leaned closer so she could be heard above the din and shouted words that echoed through the large room. "Sarah and I are going to watch videos. Are you ready to come?"

"In a minute. You guys go ahead. I'm going to get a drink first."

I wandered out to the drinking fountain and tried to cool down a little. In a moment I was aware that someone had approached from behind. It was Graham Dawson, the pastor's son, younger brother of Travis. I couldn't believe how tall he'd grown. I guess I hadn't really noticed him for a while.

Now I turned toward him a little. "Hi." I supposed he had just come to get a drink himself.

"Hi, Erin," he answered. "How'd the game go?"

"Okay." He hadn't moved toward the fountain yet, so I decided it was awkward not to continue the conversation. "Were you watching the video?"

"For a little while. But I've already seen it."

I nodded, mute.DANA'S Valley * 193He still hadn't gone for his drink. "How about you? Are you going in to watch it?"

"I think so. But I've seen it too. I was just going to be with Marcy and Sarah."

"Ah." He seemed to be undecided about how to continue. Then he stepped a little closer and asked, "Have you seen the church web page? Dad's been working on it for a while, and I've helped-some."

I shook my head.

"I can show it to you."

I couldn't figure out what was wrong with Graham. But I decided I'd go see his web page and then catch up with Marcy. It wasn't as if I'd be missing anything.

Graham led the way into his dad's office and flipped on the computer. He maneuvered the mouse and clicked repeatedly until the web page flashed up on the screen. And I had to admit it was neat. Parts of it moved or flashed, and there was a cute church-mouse character at the top of each screen like a little tour guide. It surprised me that I was interested.

"How'd you do that?"

He began to explain, and then showed me how easy it was to reset the colors, even letting me try. Before long our little tour-guide mouse was green and then red. We began talking and laughing about other things too. I discovered that Graham had a great sense of humor. And I lost track of the time.

"I wondered where you were." Marcy was in the doorway. "You never showed up," she scolded. Sarah peeked over her shoulder and smiled.

They made me feel a little embarra.s.sed, so I hopped up. Graham shut down the computer and then followed me out the door, pulling it closed behind him.194."See ya," he smiled down at me.

"See ya. Thanks," I answered and walked off down the hallway with the two girls.

Marcy nudged me. "Hmm. You and Graham in a room by yourselves. That wasn't what I was expecting."

I frowned at her and whispered hoa.r.s.ely, "Be quiet. He'll hear you."

"Hmm," Marcy repeated, and fortunately let the matter drop.& & &.Brett continued to take Corey with him on private excursions. Mom was still concerned, but she seemed to think it was better not to interfere. Corey was seven now, and Mom was counting on him to tell her anything she needed to know. And she was also relying on Brett's judgment where Corey was concerned. I had serious doubts about the arrangement, but I didn't vocalize them. Corey did often speak of seeing Travis. I think that made us feel a little better. We were all aware that besides his part-time job and school, Brett had few responsibilities. This left him many hours that we couldn't account for.

We went to Uncle Patrick's house for Christmas, and Grandma and Mr. Paulsen joined us. It was good to see her so happy. She talked openly about their home together and how much she liked her new community. Even Auntie Lynn seemed to appreciate the fact that Grandma had found happiness again.

Among her other comments, Grandma mentioned that they had begun attending church, and I noticed Dad suddenly grow interested in the conversation. But thenDANA S VALLEY * 195.Mr. Paulsen laughed and said it couldn't hurt to cover all the bases, and Dad's expression fell. I knew we'd all continue to pray for both of them.

My grades had improved a great deal. I was back to the level I had been accustomed to before Dana's illness began. And I was enjoying my cla.s.ses too. In addition, the basketball season had started again. My family sat in the center of the stands for some of my games, shouting and cheering us on. Now and then Brett was there beside Corey. It was so good to have everyone together and happy.

One February morning I came down for breakfast and sniffed deeply. Mom had made bacon and eggs-on a Sat.u.r.day, no less. We usually had to fend for ourselves on what she referred to as her "morning off." I joined her in the kitchen, said good-morning, and took the stack of plates that needed to be set around the table. I could hear her humming to herself. Then I caught an odd whimpering sound. Mom hummed a little louder.

"What was that?"

"What was what, honey?"

"That sound. It sounded like . . . crying."

Her reaction seemed far too subdued. "I don't know what you mean."

It came again. From the garage. All at once an explanation began to bubble out of Mom. "Oh, Erin. Don't tell. Please don't tell. Dad and I want it to be a surprise. We got her for Corey. I just thought it was time."

I moved past her and opened the door to peek into the garage. My eyes fell on a whirling, squirming ma.s.s of black fur that scurried across the floor. Before I could stop myself I had jumped back in surprise.

Mom laughed at me, and then laughed again with196.pleasure. "What do you think?"

I couldn't believe my eyes. They had gotten him his dog. "Does Dana know?"

"Sure. She helped me pick it out this week. We could hardly keep from telling you, but we wanted you to be surprised too. It seemed more fun that way."

They had surprised me, all right. I was shocked. "Is it going to live in here? With us, in the house?"

"Oh, she'll be in and out for a little, while she's young. Once she's bigger we'll keep her outdoors."

"It's a she?" I stooped down to run a hand over the wriggling puppy. "She is sweet."

Then we heard Corey approaching. I closed the door quickly and resumed setting the table. As usual Corey chattered away as he entered the kitchen. There was little chance he'd hear a whimper from the garage-just so long as the little thing didn't decide to bark.

We didn't have to wait long. Dad arrived at the table, and then Dana. Mom placed the plate of bacon in front of us and then announced, "We have a little surprise."

Corey speared a slice of meat and dropped it onto his plate. When no one else moved, he looked up from under his ma.s.s of red-blond hair and dropped his fork back down beside his plate. "Oops. Sorry. I should wait."

Dad spoke. "I think you need to take a look in the garage."

"I thought I did put my bike away, Daddy. I really thought I did. I don't know how it got out." He was walking obediently to the door, still trying to defend himself. Then he heard a noise. "What's that?" He shot a look back at us and reached for the doork.n.o.b. We had already begun to follow him.

"What-?" The puppy made a dash for him beforeDANA S Valley * 197he'd even had a chance for a good look. "A puppy! You got me a dog!" Two little bodies wriggled in a ma.s.s of movement. The rest of us stood and watched in awe.

From then on, the little black furry body was at Corey's side every opportunity. Corey named her Max after a dog in a story he'd read. We tried to tell him that it wasn't quite appropriate, that it made her sound like a boy. But Corey just responded by saying, "Some girls are called Max when their name is really Maxine. Katie Brewer has an Auntie Max." Who could argue with those facts?

The only trouble with Max was the yipping she did when she wanted to be let in. And she always wanted in. I could never prove it, but I had a theory that Mom kept the pup inside while she worked at the kitchen table. She now had a part-time job transcribing some kind of medical files. Max seemed so surprised when she was relegated to the garage after supper. And she seemed especially fond of Mom-next to Corey, of course.

Max grew more quickly than we could believe. In a week or two, she'd almost doubled in size. Even Mom was surprised. Then she seemed to double again during the following month. When Corey walked her on the leash, she already pulled him along behind.

He worked with her every day in the driveway, the big melting mounds of snow on each side making it messy to work anywhere else. He taught her to sit and stay and come. We were impressed. She picked up on his commands quickly and seemed eager to please him. But once they struck out together on a walk, she had little patience for being made to move quietly beside him. She sniffed and loped and darted back and forth. Corey tugged back on the leash, but it did little to slow her down. I supposed198.he'd have to do some more growing of his own before he could adequately control her.

That was when Brett stepped in. How it was he felt qualified to train a dog, I wasn't entirely certain. But at least he had the necessary strength. He took the leash from Corey and looped it several times around his hand so that it was much shorter. Then, in a deep voice, he commanded Max to "heel."