“I wouldn’t do this for just anyone, Delaney,” one of them said.
“Don’t give me some line about helping Melissa,” Jory teased. “You just want the chance to dunk the principal in the water tank at the baseball toss.”
The boy grinned. “Hey, now that sounds like fun!”
The boys entered an enormous blue-and-white vehicle, and Jory stacked a pile of dollar bills from the many who’d paid cash to get into the carnival.
“How’s it going?” Lyle asked as he came up to her.
“Business couldn’t be better. How’s it going on your end?”
“The water balloon throw was wet.” He shook drops of water from his hair. “And two freshmen won the egg toss.”
“When do we raffle off the weekend for two at the beach?”
“After lunch. It was great of your parents to persuade that resort to make the offer. Are they here?”
Jory dropped her eyes and her smile faded a bit. She thought back to her mother’s reluctance to help. “It’s not that we don’t approve of what you’re doing, Jory,” Mrs. Delaney had said. “We’d like to help, but … ”
Jory had gotten angry. “All you have to do is ask, Mother.”
Jory told Lyle, “They have other plans and won’t get by. But who cares? We’re doing a booming business.”
Lyle closed the cash box and said, “Why don’t you take a break and walk around and see the sights with me?”
“But we need someone to man the entrance.”
Lyle whistled shrilly and three players Jory recognized from the basketball team jogged over. “Let Larry, Curly, and Moe fill in for a while,” he joked. “Can you dudes handle it?”
The guys razzed one another, but sat dutifully at the table. Jory explained the procedure to them and then she and Lyle made their way through the crowds. He took her hand. “Wouldn’t want you to get lost.”
“I’m a big girl,” she said, but she didn’t pull away.
Blue sky blended with warm sunshine. The smell of hot buttered popcorn and candied apples hung in the air. Jory inhaled. “We got lucky. February can turn mean, but today’s gorgeous.”
“I special-ordered it,” Lyle said. He stopped in front of a booth. “Want to try your luck knocking down the bottles?”
“You don’t think I can do it, do you?”
He shook his head. “It’s a game of skill. Girls aren’t any good at games of skill.”
“Watch this, buster.” Jory plopped down a dollar, and the attendant, whom she recognized from her Spanish class, handed her four baseballs. Two minutes later, every stack of bottles lay in a heap.
Lyle raised his hands in surrender. “I take it back. You’re terrific.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
He reached out and touched her cheek. “How can I?”
Jory felt flustered, suddenly ill at ease. She glanced away. “What’s that long line for over there?”
Lyle followed her pointing finger. “That’s the cheerleaders’ booth. They’re selling kisses for a buck, and making a fortune too.”
“Humph,” Jory said and flounced over to the booth. She watched a line of guys putting up their money and being kissed. Lyle eased behind her. “They certainly get into their work,” Jory said, arching her eyebrow. “Especially Shirley Vaughan. Look at her. If she gets any closer we may have to hire a surgical team to extract her.”
Lyle placed his hands on her shoulders and she felt the length of him against her back. It was comforting and she didn’t want to move. She leaned into him ever so slightly. His fingers tightened gently.
“Hey, Delaney!” A guy from the line yelled. “I’ll give you two bucks if you’ll kiss me.”
She started to refuse, but then an impish grin lit her face. “Make it three.”
The kid moaned. “Geez, the things I do for love.”
He shouldered his way through the line. As Jory took her place in the booth, she flashed Shirley a smile. The cheerleader tossed her head and stepped aside. Jory kissed the boy and attempted to leave, despite a chorus of cheers for her to stay. “Drop it, fellas,” she called. “This was a one time only.” Suddenly, Lyle stepped forward and slapped down five dollars.
Startled, she stared and whispered, “Lyle, don’t be silly, we’re on the committee together.”
“Every penny counts.” he told her, leaning forward. “Besides, it’s not for me. It’s for Melissa.”
Someone overheard him and began to chant, “Go for it, Lyle!”
Jory’s pulse fluttered as Lyle’s hands came up and cupped her chin. She caught her breath as his lips came down on hers, very soft and very sweet.
“Are you mad at me?”
Lyle’s question and boyish grin almost caused Jory to forget that she was annoyed with him. “That was a dirty trick you played on me this afternoon.”
“What trick? I paid five bucks for a kiss.” She turned her head, determined to stay miffed, but he dipped into her line of vision. “It’s my money and it was worth it.”
She warmed her hands on a mug of hot chocolate and watched as several faculty members counted the receipts for the day on the far side of the gym. “Fifty people were watching and it was embarrassing.”
“I could arrange a private performance.”
Jory fumbled with her cup, confused. Lyle was getting too personal and she didn’t want that. This day was for Melissa. The thought of Melissa made her sober. “I called the hospital,” she told him, ignoring his offer. “Mrs. Austin says that Melissa’s got a rash now and they’re working on the assumption that she’s rejecting Michael’s bone marrow.”
Lyle eased beside her in the bleachers. “I’m sorry. But maybe the tide will turn. I’ve done some reading. Rejection can reverse itself.”
Jory shrugged. “Sometimes I feel that we’re all on a big merry-go-round and we can’t get off.”
“Where’s Little Miss Optimism?”
“Going down for the count,” Jory confessed with a tired sigh.
“We did great today,” Lyle said, enthusiastically. “We got gallons of blood and raised a ton of money.”
“It was a good day, huh?” Jory felt lifted by his good humor and offered a tired smile. “Mrs. Austin was really touched. When I told her what we were planning on doing, I thought she’d break down and cry.”
“You’ll have to give her a final tally tomorrow. Maybe things will be looking better all the way around by then.”
“Maybe so.” Jory leaned on the bleacher. “I’m wiped out,” she confessed.
“Look, I’ll go over and get a ballpark figure from the principal and then take you home. You can call her first thing tomorrow.”
Jory watched him cross the gym floor and wondered where he’d gotten his energy. Her thoughts returned to Melissa lying in her hospital room, fighting for her life. She thought of Michael too. Michael, whose bone marrow was to have given his sister a second chance at life. Jory wanted to be with them both.
Lyle returned, his brow knitted thoughtfully. “What’s up? Do they need a Brinks truck to haul it away?”
“We got some checks in donations,” Lyle said. “From people who didn’t come.”
“That’s good, although this afternoon it seemed like half of Tampa showed up.”
Lyle handed her a check. She saw the amount—five thousand dollars—and whistled. Then she saw the signature and gasped. The check was signed by her mother.
Chapter Twelve
“Why did you do it, Mother?” Jory impatiently shifted from foot to foot in her parent’s study, a room painted forest green and accented with brass and ferns.
The desk lamp cast shadows on the wall as her mother worked on real estate contracts at her antique desk. “Do what, Jory?”
“I saw the check for Melissa. It shocked me that you would donate so much money to her family. Why didn’t you tell me you were going to do that?”
Mrs. Delaney put down her pen and removed her glasses. “I’m not insensitive, Jory. I
know how much Melissa means to you and I feel very sorry for her family and what they must be going through.”
“It’s been going on for a long time. Why are you suddenly so concerned?” Jory knew she was being rude, but she didn’t care.
“I’ve never seen you so involved in anything before,” her mother countered. “I was impressed.”
“So you were rewarding me? A whole bunch of people worked to make this thing happen, you know.” Jory wanted to tell her about Lyle, because without him, she would have never pulled it off.
“That’s not it. Stop being so defensive. But Jory, you must admit that you put very little effort into things that you do. I simply think you did an excellent job on this carnival for your friend. I heard it talked about on the radio, and the article in the newspaper was good too.”
“If you were so impressed, then why didn’t you and Daddy stop by?”
“Your father’s flown down to the islands on business and I was swamped with desk work and couldn’t get away.” Mrs. Delaney paused. “How did it go? Did you raise lots of money?”
“Yes. But Melissa’s not doing so well. They think she might be rejecting the transplant.”
“That’s too bad. Really, I’m sorry.”
“She knew that was a possibility when she checked in to the hospital. But she had the procedure done anyway. Her mother thought she was mature enough to make the decision herself.”
“That is a big decision for such a young girl.…” Mrs. Delaney shifted and glanced at her watch. “You should go to bed and get some rest.”
Jory felt like screaming. How could her mother bounce so easily between caring and indifference? “I’m tired, but I’m not sleepy,” she said, plopping onto a sofa.
“That happens to me sometimes,” Mrs. Delaney swiveled in her chair to face Jory. “Maybe you’d like some hot tea?”
“I had hot chocolate already.” Jory plucked at a decorator pillow.
“What is it, Jory? What do you want?” Her tone was kind, a bit imploring.
Jory didn’t know exactly. Her antagonism waned and she felt restless and unsettled. “I-I want to thank you for the money,” she said. “It was a big donation and I know it will help the Austins.”
Mrs. Delaney heaved a sigh and pressed her eyelids with her fingers. “I honestly feel sorry for that family. I can’t imagine how I’d handle it if it were you.”
The remark caught Jory off guard. It had never occurred to her that her mother ever thought about her in any way except as someone to order around. “I don’t know how I’d handle it if it were me either.”
“I’m glad it isn’t you.” Her mother’s face was bathed in lamplight, and for a moment, Jory thought she saw her eyes glistening.
She recalled all the arguments they’d had over the past months and realized that these were the first gentle words they’d shared in ages. She remembered another scene. One of Mrs. Austin cradling Melissa beside their Christmas tree. She couldn’t remember the last time her mother had held her like that. “Well, I guess I’ll go to my room.” She struggled to her feet, suddenly exhausted.
She got as far as the door before her mother said, “Uh, Jory. There is one thing”. Jory tensed. She should have known their moment of peaceful coexistence wouldn’t last. “I appreciate the way you’ve stuck to your bargain about going to all the engagements I’ve arranged over these past months.”
“A deal’s a deal.”
“I know it hasn’t been exactly fun to go out on arranged dates.”
“I knew it was important to you and Dad.”
“Well, I’m releasing you from that commitment. There’s one I set up months ago for the first of March that I’d really appreciate if you’d keep, but after that, you don’t ever have to go to something I’ve arranged if you don’t want to.”
Jory turned, open-mouthed. “I don’t?”
“You don’t.”
“Gee, Mom—thanks. Really, I mean, thanks a lot.”
Mrs. Delaney shrugged. “Don’t act like you’ve just been released from prison. I know sometimes it seems that all we ever do is fight. That we always seem to be working at cross purposes. But, Jory, all I’ve ever wanted for you was the best from life.”
Jory’s eyes flew up to her mother’s. “We’ve just never been able to agree on what was ‘the best.’ ”
“No, I guess not.”
The tick of the antique wall clock was the only sound to break the silence between them. Jory had an overwhelming urge to slip into her mother’s arms and rest her head against her. She didn’t move. “Well, good night,” she finally said, clearing her throat.
“Good night, Jory,” Mrs. Delaney said. “Please keep me posted on Melissa’s progress.”
“I will.” Jory slipped into the hall and up the stairs feeling quite alone.
For reasons she didn’t understand, Jory spent every night of the next week studying. She was almost finished with an English term paper on Saturday night, when Lyle called. “Want to hit a party with me?” he asked.
She stretched and eyed the paper. “Tell me more.”
“Some of the guys are checking out a big bash in the woods north of the university. A couple of them are planning on going to USF next fall, and a few of the fraternities are having a free-for-all out there tonight. I’d like you to come with me.”
Jory was tempted. “Gee, Lyle, I don’t know … I’ve got this paper due Monday.” She toyed with her pen, and inspiration struck. “Tell you what. Give me directions, and I’ll meet you out there when I’m finished.”
“You’re on.” She heard the smile in his voice over the phone. She hung up and wondered why she’d agreed. She loved parties, but it was more than that. She’d wanted to be with Lyle. “That’s stupid!” she said aloud, flipping through the book to find her place and get back to work. Lyle Vargas was just a nice guy who was sensitive and understanding about her friendship with Melissa. That was all. For Jory there was only Michael. Always and forever. Only Michael.
A few hours later, Jory parked her car and followed the sounds of music to a clearing in the pine trees. The moon was full, its light filtering through the trees, and the night air was cool and crisp. Auxiliary floodlights, fed by a portable generator, had been set up in a haphazard circle. Vehicles were scattered everywhere, and people danced, some on the hoods of the cars.
Her eyes darted about nervously. She didn’t recognize a soul of the college crowd, most of whom were drinking. She had almost talked herself into leaving when Lyle called to her. “It’s a little crazy around here, but I’m glad you came,” he said.
She flashed him a perky smile. “You know me, just a party girl at heart.”
Lyle eyed her, shaking his head. “Why do you keep pushing that image of yourself? You’re far more than that, Jory.”
“Never!”
“Yeah you are. I know you want everybody to think you’re only running around looking for a good time, but you’re not that way at all. Look at how much you do for Melissa.”
“Cripes, Lyle, you make me sound like Mother Teresa.” Jory felt silly listening to him sing her praises. Although she’d once wanted to change her image from a good-time girl, she didn’t want anything to interfere with her promises to Melissa right now. She slid out of his grasp. “So where’s the gang?”
“Skip and Tommy are putting the moves on some girls. I’ve just been hanging back waiting for you.”
“So here I am,” she said brightly. “Why don’t we dance?”
“Can we wait for something slow?”
She watched several couples whirl in frenzied motion. “Doesn’t look like there will be anything slow coming on the pipes for a long time. Come on, don’t be a party pooper. I want to have fun!”
Lyle danced with her, and in minutes Jory was caught up in music and motion. She welcomed the opportunity to clear her mind, to relax and let loose. When something slow did blare over the speakers, she sighed. Slow meant thinking and talking, and right now Jory didn
’t want to do either. Lyle pulled her to him, locking his hands behind the small of her back. “This is much better,” he said, catching his breath and resting his chin on top of her head.
The air was cool on her warm skin and Lyle was near and his arms were holding her and he smelled of warmth and woodsy cologne. It would be so easy to nestle against him, to bury her face in his chest and float in his arms. “I’m thirsty,” she said, holding herself away from him. “Do they have sodas, or is beer the only thing to drink?”
Lyle stopped dancing but didn’t release her. “Look at me.” She tipped her head upward. “What’s wrong, Jory?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” She offered a brilliant smile. “Can’t I be thirsty?”
“Whenever you smile like that it means, ‘Don’t get too close.’ Why can’t you talk to me, Jory? I’ve been there.”
“Been where? And I’m so sorry my smile bothers you.” Why did he always have to dig inside her? Why couldn’t he just leave her alone and have a good time?
She squirmed out of his arms and walked to the edge of the circle of light. He followed. “Look, Lyle, maybe I shouldn’t have come. You want to be serious and I want to party. Everybody accepts me just the way I am, Lyle, except you.” And my mother and Melissa, she thought. “Why can’t everybody just leave me alone and let me live my own life?”
“Your best friend is dying, Jory. You can’t stand by and watch it happen and not have it tear your guts out. Talk to me. I can help.”
“She’s not dying!” Jory yelled. “She’s sick and she’s having problems with her cure, but she’s not going to die.” Pressure began to build in her chest as she spoke.
“It isn’t your fault that Melissa got sick and you didn’t,” Lyle said.
“That’s stupid,” she hissed. “That’s never crossed my mind.” The tightness in her chest increased and she wanted to bolt. Lyle reached for her, but she shoved him away. “Leave me alone. I mean it. Melissa’s going to make it.”
“But what if she doesn’t? What will you do?”