“How can you do this?” I asked suddenly. “How can you pretend that nothing is
wrong?”
“I’m not pretending that nothing is wrong, Landon. Let me get my coat and we’ll sit
outside and talk, okay?”
She smiled at me, waiting for an answer, and I finally nodded, my lips pressed
together. She reached out and patted my arm.
“I’ll be right back,” she said.
I walked to the chair and sat down, Jamie emerging a moment later. She wore a
heavy coat, gloves, and a hat to keep her warm. The nor’easter had passed, and the day
wasn’t nearly as cold as it had been over the weekend. Still, though, it was too much for
her.
“You weren’t in school today,” I said.
She looked down and nodded. “I know.”
“Are you ever going to come back?” Even though I already knew the answer, I
needed to hear it from her.
“No,” she said softly, “I’m not.”
“Why? Are you that sick already?” I started to tear up, and she reached out and took
my hand.
“No. Today I feel pretty good, actually. It’s just that I want to be home in the
mornings, before my father has to go to the office. I want to spend as much time with him
as I can.”
Before I die, she meant to say but didn’t. I felt nauseated and couldn’t respond.
“When the doctors first told us,” she went on, “they said that I should try to lead as
normal a life as possible for as long as I could. They said it would help me keep my
strength up.”
“There’s nothing normal about this,” I said bitterly.
“I know.”
“Aren’t you frightened?”
Somehow I expected her to say no, to say something wise like a grown-up would, or
to explain to me that we can’t presume to understand the Lord’s plan.
She looked away. “Yes,” she finally said, “I’m frightened all the time.”
“Then why don’t you act like it?”
“I do. I just do it in private.”
“Because you don’t trust me?”
“No,” she said, “because I know you’re frightened, too.”