Chapter 3

Mark officially becomes Annie, and our couple moves in at Hope House.

Annie is Born

We had gathered at the Holdings. Mom and dad were there to say goodbye to me. We were taking the Holding’s minivan and Julie’s (temporarily my) beat-up old gray Honda. In the minivan were Mr. Holding, Julie, all Julie’s college stuff, and Sara’s wheelchair. Sara, her mom, Sara’s crutches and our luggage filled the Honda. Sarah was in a funny mood. "I’ll sit in the back seat of the Honda. I don’t take up as much leg room as I used to. Mom, you can sit up front with your older daughter." Today I was comfortable in cutoff jeans and a  ¾ arm tee shirt that said "Property of Ft. Russell Central High Lady Rustlers’ Basketball Team" on the front and "Julie Holding" across the back.

As we were loading, Mr. Holding asked, "Julie, do you have everything out here now?"

Julie and I both answered, "Yes, dad."

We got under way. Mrs. Holding looked back at her daughter, and asked "Are you doing okay, sweetie?"

Julie answered, "Considering that I’m going to spend six weeks getting wrung through a physical wringer in the mornings, poisoned in the afternoons, all my hair will probably fall out, and my roommate will be a crazy boy who looks like my sister, not too bad, I guess." Well, she wasn’t in denial, anyway.

Our plans were to stop for lunch at a restaurant at the edge of the city. We would drop Julie off to visit a friend, and then we would go to Hope Haven and unload. When the Holdings left, they would pick up Julie, stay at a motel, and drive her the thirty miles to her college. Her program didn’t start until Thursday, but they had made arrangements for her to arrive early.

After a few miles, Sarah spoke up again. "You know how before we left and dad said something to Julie and you both answered? That’s happened a couple of times and it bothers me, for some reason. I know people have to think you’re Julie, but I’m uncomfortable calling you that. You’re not my sister–well, not my sister Julie, anyway. So I’d like to call you something else, just as a nickname. It’ll make things less confusing in my heart."

"I can understand that, honey. It would be less confusing in general," Mrs. H began. "Do you have any ideas? Maybe Mark could become Marcia or something?"

"Marcia, Marcia, Marcia," I whined in my best Jan Brady voice (too much Nick at Night).

"I know!" Sarah said. "For the next six weeks you are not Mark, you are Annie. My sister Annie. It fits you better, somehow. You look more like an Annie than a Julie, or a Marcia. Julie’s name is Julia Annette, so we could explain to people that I like to call you by your middle name. They won’t know it’s your middle name, Andrew, that Annie is short for."

"Okay," I laughed. "I like that. Annie I am. We’ll tell the others when we stop for lunch." After a couple of miles, I asked, "I won’t have to dye these blond curls orange, will I, and wear a little orange dress, and sing ‘Tomorra, Tomorra,’ will I?"

"No, you’re not an orphan Annie. You’re my Annie. You have two families. And I love you, Annie," Sarah said softly.

We stopped for lunch at a big family-style restaurant that we like. I wasn’t sure how good the food at Hope Haven would be, and I had bad memories of the hospital cafeteria, so I really enjoyed a double country fried steak. If I’m going to live as a girl, I’m really glad I get to be a girl jock, so I can pretty well eat whatever I want. Mr. H and Julie liked Sarah Beth’s idea, so Annie I was from that day on.

Unpacking

Hope Haven is a big old mansion converted to its present use. We unloaded our stuff, took it up to second floor on an elevator, and went down for an orientation session with Mrs. Berdugo, the administrator. She explained more about the Healing Partners program that worked between the hospital and Hope Haven. A family member, along with the patient, formed a healing team. The family member provided for the patient’s basic needs when the patient couldn’t handle them, with the assistance of 24-hour nursing staff. The healing team went together for treatment, in Sara’s case, physical therapy in the morning and chemo every other afternoon, and other medical tests and procedures, as well. I would be the youngest family member staying at Hope Haven. Most of the others were parents or a few older brothers or sisters or aunts or uncles. So she certainly hoped that I would act maturely and responsibly. I asked why we had a second floor room, given Sara’s condition. What if the electricity went out, or the elevator broke down? Mrs. Berdugo looked down her glasses at me. "Sarah is ambulatory, even though she has only one leg. She is in better shape than the first floor guests. She can make it down the steps on crutches, or she can bump down on her rump. And you, Miss Holding, are to help her." Tough lady, that Mrs. Berdugo. The house itself had two wings, the south one mostly for preteen children, the north one for kids like us. We weren’t isolated, or anything, and we ate meals together in a common dining room. We were also encouraged to help with housekeeping functions.

We met a few of the kids. Billy Yates was a little bald-headed guy who looked about 8 but was actually 13, who was having his fourth bout with cancer. Kelly, a 14-year old girl, was scarred up from burns in a trailer fire, and was recuperating from skin grafts. Nell was in a wheelchair with CP, I think, but had undergone orthopedic surgery and was doing physical therapy. There were other kids that we saw coming and going, but wouldn’t meet until supper.

We went upstairs and unpacked. The room was small, had two single beds, one on either side, 2 dressers, a desk, a close nook, and an attached bathroom. It looked like a college dorm room in an old quaint dorm, except for the pull up bars all over the place, and the low altitude of the desk, toilet, and sink, to make them wheelchair accessible–oh, yeah, the wide doors, too. There was a phone jack, but no phone–the in-room phone cost extra, and the Holdings had told us that it would save them a lot of money if we just used the phone rooms located on all the floors. That meant no internet access for me. No TV either–people can bring their own, but Mrs. Berdugo recommends that they don’t. It was better for building community if we shared the TVs in the two living rooms.

We chose dressers and began to unpack. Remember how I thought that I wouldn’t have much trouble with Julie’s informal wardrobe of mostly jeans, shorts, and tees, pretty much like what I was wearing today? When I had mentioned that at lunch, Julie and Sarah both just smiled. The shorts and tops I pulled from off the top were pastels, pinks, yellows, blues, greens, and lavenders. I found more skirts and sundresses than I thought Julie even owned. And when I got to the other bag, I came to even more delicate blouses and skirts, silky slips and what Sarah told me were camisoles.

"What’s going on? I know Julie doesn’t ever wear anything like this."

"Oh, come on, Annie. They’re beautiful clothes. The ones in that bag are from Joan Kim. She’s so impressed with what you’re doing, she wanted to help out by loaning you some of the clothes that she can’t wear during her pregnancy. Wasn’t that sweet?"

"I guess so, Sara. I don’t know, This is kind of threatening to me. But even these clothes from Julie are more, well, feminine, then I expected. Maybe I could drive over to the discount mall and buy some cheap jeans and tees."

"Annie, you’re a girl, now. Live with it. Look the part. Enjoy it, even."

"I don’t think I can enjoy it. It makes me feel kind of strange. It scares me."

"It scares me to be here, Annie, and to think of all they’re going to do to me. If I can handle that, you can handle this. I’ll be here for you. Would you wear these clothes instead of buying those jeans and tees if I told you this was my idea?"

"Well, yes, I guess so. Was it?"

"Not completely, but sorta. When Julie was packing, she made two piles–stuff she needed for college and stuff she didn’t need quite so badly, that she thought you could wear. I noticed that the pile she was making for herself was the kind of stuff you thought you were getting–her normal day-to-day wardrobe. Your pile wasn’t very big, and it was a bit more feminine. Then I remembered her drawerful of Aunt Clare clothes.Some of the more girlish things she gave you were originally gifts from Aunt Clare, who is very conservative, and thinks girls should be girls. Julie usually wears them only when Aunt Clare is visiting. But I always liked them on Julie, and I think I’ll like them on you. So please? Can Annie have a bit more feminine look than her twin Julie?" Blindsided again. Oh, well. Some of the outfits are pretty nice. And Sarah promised to help me with the laundry. I even promised Sarah that I would try everything on, at least once, even if I didn’t wear it all day, or in front of other people.

That pretty well catches the record up to our arrival here at Hope Haven. Things fell into a pattern fairly quickly. Sunday night for supper, we asked Kelly, the girl with the burns, if we could sit with her. She looked startled but pleased. As she opened up, we got the impression she’d been pretty much of a loner, and other kids were uncomfortable around her. For some reason, we three really clicked, and spent all week being together at meal times and free times. She also received physical therapy on a similar schedule with Sarah Beth, so we’re together over there a lot, too. Kelly didn’t talk much about what happened to her, and we didn’t press. She lived on a ranch over in Franklin County. As she was 19 and had been to Hope Haven for repeated visits, they had waived the requirement of having a family member stay with her.

Sarah had lots of medical tests on Monday, and began her daily PT, designed at this point to build up her strength in her hips and leg. The prosthetics people also made a cast of her stump early in the week, so they could customize a leg that would fit comfortably. It was fun being with Sarah in the PT unit, helping her and encouraging her. It wasn’t as much fun going to chemo with her, and definitely not as much fun for her to receive the shots, pills, and Ivs of stuff designed to kill any remaining cancer cells before it killed her.

So now I’m finishing this long record on Friday night. We’re staying here for most weekends, even though Sara’s treatments are mostly Monday-Friday. We figure the ride back and forth will be too tiring for her as the treatments take their toll. Each weekend, our parents will alternate visits. My mom and dad are coming up tomorrow, and will take us out for lunch. Maybe I’ll see if I can freak dad out by wearing that beautiful red silk blouse and long black silk skirt from Joan. Or that jade green dress. Hmmm.

Saturday June 21 and Sunday June 22

I chickened out on the sexy satin outfit this morning. After all, it was Saturday, and I wanted Saturday clothes. I settled on a pair of cutoffs again, green this time, and a pale yellow knit pullover that felt almost like a tee-shirt. Sarah and I took the elevator down to the laundry room to wash and dry our clothes. A lot of the residents and their family members had left, either for the day or the weekend, so we got some kissing in between folding undies. Sarah complained about the vampires, who kept taking blood for blood tests, and said that she felt about a quart low. We laughed about the antics of the younger kids during the previous week.

Kelly came in, the girl recuperating from burns. She walked slowly and stiffly. She had on sandals, shorts and a sleeveless pullover, so we could see more of the red, scarred areas. Some of them had dressings taped on. I had noticed earlier that her scarred right hand was missing two fingers, but now with her sandals I saw that her foot hadn’t fared any better. I tried not to react, but she must have picked up on a tiny wince. "Sorry," she said. "I know this isn't pretty. But clothes hurt a lot." She started to load the other washer. "Looks like we both got it on the right side, Sara. People keep telling me I should be thankful to be alive, but sometimes it hurts so bad, and people stare at me, and I wonder. But I guess I'm glad. Sometimes I get jealous looking at you. It's obvious you're really close. I had a sister. We argued sometimes, but we still loved each other. She didn't make it through the fire. Neither did my dad. It’s just me and mom now."
"How long ago was the fire, Kelly?" Sarah asked.

"A year ago last December. My dad was a ranch hand, and mom’s a cook. Mom was visiting a sick sister one night, and dad fell asleep smoking. He died in the fire, and my sister didn’t survive the burns. They didn’t think I would, either. This is my sixth round of plastic surgery and followup rehab. Keeping the skin and muscles flexible is a bitch, but it's worth it. I'd just curl up in a ball otherwise. Probably one more week for me this time, then home for a few months and then back again." I was amazed that it had been that long. If she had been through six rounds of plastic surgery, what would she have looked like before? Wow. Sara's situation was tough, but Kelly's was worse.

"We'll miss you, when you go, Kelly," I said. "But I'm glad for us that we have these two weeks together."

"Julie, do you feel kind of strange sometimes being the only normal kid here?" she asked suddenly.

"That depends on your definition of normal, I guess. I was with Sarah so much at the hospital, and then at home before we came here, that it doesn't bother me much to be around kids with medical problems. We're a lot alike in some ways. What you see on the outside doesn't have much to do with what's on the inside. A lot of kids–boys and girls–treat me like I'm a little bit of a freak because I'm athletic and plain and all."
Kelly smiled. "Well, I think you're cute, in a funky kind of way. Do you have a boy friend?" she asked.

I was trying to answer according to Julie's frame of reference. "Not right now. I've had a few. I'm going to college next fall, so I guess there's still hope."

Kelly looked at Sara. "You're still kind of shy about people seeing you without your leg, aren't you? I'm sorry if I'm getting too personal. It's still hard for me to be out on the city street and notice people staring at me and asking dumb questions. But I can only be who I am, you know? And how others take me, that's their problem, not mine. Maybe sometime we three can go out together, if that's okay with the two of you, and get some fast food, or loop the mall, or something. Then you'll be out in the crowd, and won't be the center of attention."

I wanted to jump at the chance. One of my big goals was to make Sarah feel more comfortable out in public. But it had to be Sara's decision. "Yeah, I'd like that," she smiled. "And not just because I want you to be the decoy, but because I really like to be with you. What do you say, Annie?

"Sure. Our aunt and uncle are coming over, and should be here about lunchtime. They'll probably want to eat supper with us, and dinner tomorrow. How about a trip to the mall and supper at the fast food court tomorrow evening? Maybe we could even catch a flick."

We talked a bit longer, griping about the food and the grouchy aide. When the laundry was finished, we went up and waited for my folks–woops, our aunt Fran and uncle Carl–to come. It was nearly twelve when they arrived. We all hugged, and they said, "It's so good to see you, Annie." So the Holdings had gotten the message through about my new identity.

Although Hope Haven was okay and I really liked the kids, it was great to get away for a few hours. We had lunch in the car at a drive in, then drove into the mountains. We both did a lot of chattering about the first week. For supper, my folks suggested a fancy Chinese restaurant they had already checked out for accessibility. Sarah agreed–twice in one weekend she would be out in public! Of course, Sarah asked me to wear the nicest silk dress that Joan had sent–long, jade green, shapely, and with a sexy slit. She also made up my "night" face, and helped me put in some long, dangly earrings. Dad's eyes widened when he saw me, but he smiled and said "You're looking beautiful, girls. All three of you." I impressed everybody with my chopstick dexterity–the long nails actually helped keep them balanced. We watched a TV movie in their motel room before they brought us back to Hope Haven.

Sarah begged off from church that morning, so I went with my folks. It was time to premier the burgundy skirt. I felt a little strange to realize how pleased I was with how I looked–not just for being able to pass as Julie, but just with how nice I looked as Annie. After church, we picked up a pizza and took it back to Hope Haven. I changed back to my grubbies for the afternoon. My parents left soon after we killed the pizza. While Sarah napped, I bicycled a few miles on a great bike path the city had built along the river. I wasn't trying for speed, just exercise and relaxation.

Sara, Kelly, and I climbed into the Honda to go to the mall. Although Sarah used the chair, she brought her crutches with her, too, so she could reach the machines at the arcade, and for exercise. She even chose a skirt, rather than less-revealing slacks. Oh, we got the stares, all right. Sometimes we'd stare back. We got a few smiles and friendly waves, too. "Are you feeling comfortable with us, Annie?" Kelly whispered once.

"Having the time of my life," I smiled. I thought how just a week ago I was frightened about going on a shopping trip as a girl. Now I was having a ball. What more could a girl want, except for maybe a new set of earrings and a teal pin-on hair ribbon to go with the khaki dress? And those were mine in short order. Should I be worrying that I was having such a good time?

Monday, June 23

We spent a long morning at rehab today. Last week the prosthetics experts had made a mold of her stump, and today they were working with her to fit a cup that would hold her to and cushion her from her prosthesis. Also last week was lots of exercise, building strength and flexibility in her hip, and general muscle tone. Sarah Beth’s muscle tone had always been good, but had taken a beating with her illness. So it was today that they worked on fitting the cup to her stump. I was interested in the process but couldn’t do much. After lunch came the chemo session. As her partner, I went back with her to the waiting room and then the treatment room. There were other kids with cancer in the waiting room, one or two who were staying at Hope Haven, and the rest who were outpatient or still inpatient. Some still had their hair, some wigs, some bandanas or scarves, some just bald. So far, we were lucky with the chemo side effects. They, along with the PT really tired Sarah Beth, and they had caused some nausea and queasiness, but nothing she couldn’t handle. The queasiness would come and go, but for the most part, she felt decent if rather tired.

It was a great early summer day, temperature in the high 70s, when we left the children’s hospital. I invited her to take a walk with me. I pushed her in her wheelchair down to a park area by the river. I sat on a park bench, and we held hands and talked.
"Mark," she started (no one was within earshot), "Are you sure that you’re okay with this? It was a great weekend, but are you really willing to spend five more weeks as Annie?"

"Absolutely," I said. "It’s not as bad as I thought keeping up the Annie image. I get a little nervous, though, when sometimes I feel like this is normal, that I am Annie. Like last night at the mall. Oh, by the way, I brought you something." I reached into my purse and pulled out a long green ribbon, the shade of her beautiful eyes.

"A ribbon? It’s a beautiful color. But were you forgetting that I may not have anything to wrap it around in a couple of weeks?" I stood up, moved behind her, and tied her long wavy ginger-colored hair back with it, and made a fairly respectable bow. I sat back down.

"No, I’m not forgetting. I think about it every day when I see some of the kids at Hope Haven or the chemo waiting area. I just want you to have it to remind you that after you lose your hair, it will come back, and someday I’ll put the ribbon in your hair again, just like I did now. I will always love you, Sarah Beth Holding."

"And I’ll always love you, Mark, or Annie, or whoever you are."

We sat and watched the shallow river burble over rocks. Then we went back for supper and an evening in the tv room with the other kids.

Tuesday, June 24

Same old same old during the daily routine. Sarah didn’t have chemo, since it’s Tuesday, but she did have lab work done. It was hotter out and Sarah was feeling a little queasy when we left the hospital, so we didn’t go wandering. We sat in the living room at Hope Haven. Billy, whose tee shirt said "The Cancer Kid" since he’s had so much experience with it, challenged me to a few rounds on his Game Boy. He wiped me out after a fairly good struggle, and gave me a compliment: "You’re pretty good at this for a girl."

I didn’t record my Billy story from last week, the day we arrived. Billy introduced himself to us and asked Sarah how she lost her leg. Sarah said, "I’m a cancer victim, too."

Billy just about shouted. "Don’t say victim! You’re not a victim unless you let yourself be. You’re a cancer survivor!" Good point.

Wednesday, June 25

Sara’s been using a walker a lot in rehab, hopping along, and wearing the cup with nothing attached to it. How was chemo? "Nauseous boredom," she said. "Just glad you were there keeping me company, love."

This evening, I touched up my nails, and Sara’s, too. After they dried, I was sorting through one of my clothing doors and found a box that Julie had left me. It had some more costume jewelry and hair pins in it. I’d been using some of the long ribbons with bobby pins on each end that Julie and I draped through the back of our hair, in and out of the curls, like a garland on a Christmas tree. I thought it was a little juvenile for someone her age, but it was one of her little trademarks. I reached down through and discovered that the bottom of the box was filled with a really long streamer of red and blue ribbons, a good 18 inches long.

"What on earth is this?" I asked Sara.

"Don’t you know? I bet Julie didn’t realize she left that in there. The basketball team wore them when they came out and practiced at the start of every game. School colors, and all that?" Sarah reached over, took them from me and started shaking them like a pom pom.

"Oh, yeah. For awhile they painted their nails alternating red and blue, too. Probably your sister’s idea, her and her nail fetish. But these would be a little silly for me to where around here, wouldn’t they? Even though I said I’d try everything on once?"

Sarah nodded, "You’re probably right." Then she grinned. "Do you know how some of those little kids are really intrigued by your bike racing, and some of the bigger ones, too? Why not, some nice day soon, you give them a little demonstration. We could all gather on the porch, and you could wear your Ocelots uniform, and go around the block a few times at different speeds."

"Sounds good to me."

"And it would look so cute if you clipped these in your hair so they would stream out behind you from under the back of your helmet as you rode by."

Thursday June 26

It was a scorcher today! Sarah suggested I wear a sundress to keep cool, so I did–it went down to just above my knees, had a floral print on a cream background, fairly high bodice to hide my lack of cleavage, but bare shoulders. She found me a bra that didn't have shoulder straps, either. I wore a thin gold chain with a cross on it around my neck, and a bracelet of Julie's with a small basketball charm. My sandals felt good with the heat.

I've been really getting involved in the Physical Therapy unit at the children's hospital. Kevin Lewis, who I lovingly call PT Guy, is about thirty, cute according to Sarah but I bet he'll be bald on top by fifty. He's a combination of the best coaches I've ever had–he works his clients hard, but never puts them down. You can feel his passion for making people's bodies work better. Kevin's in charge of the PT unit here, and teaches it at the university. I help him with Sarah the best I can, and follow up on his instructions to see that she does her "homework" exercises. I also keep volunteering to work with others, doing what he teaches me to do, helping people with work that doesn't need a professional to do it. Today I've been watching Kevin working with Kelly, who is going home tomorrow, as he helps her move and stretch her body as it recuperated from her latest skin grafts. Kevin filled me in on how tendons and muscles had been damaged, too, and what they were doing to help. He showed me some simple movements I could work on with her, and said, "I'm going to go help another client. Just help her do these until she complains a lot, okay?"

The staff is short-handed, and Kevin asked me if I would be an official member of their volunteer staff. It involves some classroom lessons and guided instruction in the unit. Sara's my first concern of course, but it sounded great to me, so I signed on the dotted line.

When we were comparing notes on a patient, I asked him, "I noticed that Sarah is the only one here right now missing a limb. Do you have many people like that?"

"Amputees? Yes, quite a few. I see the people from the prosthetic company who do the fittings and adjustments more than I see some of my own relatives. Cancer cases like Sara's are tragic in a way, because it suddenly shoves a relatively healthy person into a whole new way of life. Accidents, too. After my first year here, I sold my motorcycle–I saw the aftermath of too many wrecks. I wouldn't be surprised if Sarah will have company after the Fourth of July weekend. That's always good for some major trauma, between cars, boats, and fireworks. What I enjoy, though, is working with the toddlers and young children sometimes, ones who are born without a lower arm or leg, for instance. They learn so quickly. I told Sarah that I fit a lower leg prosthesis on a six year old, and it came with Disney characters all over it. That girl isn't going to hide it, she'll show it off." He showed me a picture of this grinning little character hanging on his office bulletin board. "I told Sarah she could have one like it, if she wanted," He grinned.

We sat a few minutes, drinking cokes. "Julie?" He started. "Or is it okay to call you Annie like Sarah does? Somehow you seem more like an Annie to me."

"Annie's fine! The people at school all call me Julie, but I'm cool with Annie, especially from someone I like."

"I'm impressed with what you've been doing around here–you have a very caring manner, and people feel good about you working with them. A lot of people with athletic backgrounds freeze up in a place like this, but you don't act threatened or repulsed at all. If you haven't made a career choice yet, I hope you'll think about PT work."

Wow. I was impressed that he was impressed. "I'm going to Westland College on an athletic scholarship and work/study program, and I'm planning to major in Phys Ed and minor in sociology, but yes, I'd love to do this kind of work. That'd be great."

He smiled and said, "I'll do whatever I can to help you. I have some pretty good connections, and we can work out summer jobs, internships, scholarship help, so maybe you can do a joint program between Westland and the University."

Later, I was grinning from ear to ear, and told Sarah Beth about the conversation. She nodded. "He's right. You would be good at that. But he thinks you're Julie, or Annie. He doesn't even know Mark. Unless you're planning to stay as Annie for the rest of your life, I don't know how much he can help you."

"No, I don't mind being Annie for six weeks, but I really want Mark back."

"Me too, lover, me too," she smiled. "One of the things that I've always loved about you is that caring, gentle nature that Kevin was talking about. Sometimes as Mark you have to hide that to survive. It's just blossoming through with Annie. So maybe Annie will help Mark become as great a physical therapist as Kevin is."

Sarah had the afternoon off, and she felt tired. She suggested that I go back and help out in the PT unit, since it was too hot to go biking. I changed from the sundress, since it kind of got in my way during the morning session and changed into solid violet shorts with a violet top that had white butterflies outlined on it. (I can hear my grandchildren laughing when they read this.) After lunch and with Sarah napping, I went back over to the unit. Kelly was still over there. Kevin gave me the list of what work she still needed, and sent me back to work with her. "You're good at this, Annie," Kelly said. "You have a gentle touch, but you're not afraid of doing what you need to do."

"Thanks," I replied. "I enjoy working with you. Did I tell you that Kevin has signed me to his volunteer program, and is encouraging me to consider PT as a career?"

She smiled. "Sounds like a winner to me."

"Are you still planning to go home tomorrow?" I asked Kelly.

"Yep, the return of the Freak of Franklin County. I'm sorry. I've really been trying to overcome some of the bitterness about the way people look at me and everything. Most of my friends don't want to hang around with me–in public, at least."

"I can imagine. My sister experienced a little of that. We're hoping with time it'll get better." We shifted exercise patterns.

"It'll get better to a point," she grimaced. "But some folks will always be uncomfortable around people who look different or who have disabilities. I didn't want to ask this with Sarah around, but are you really sure about this boy friend?"

"Mark? Sure, I'm sure." I said, maybe a little too fast.

"I'm sorry, but you two say how devoted he is, and Sarah says that she talks with him every day even though he's out of town, but I sort the mail and she never gets any cards or letters from him that I can tell, and I'm right next to the second floor phone booth, and she doesn't hang around it like someone who talks with a friend daily. I just don't want her to crash and burn if he is easing out of the relationship"

I was a little upset. "Well, aren't you little Miss Snoopy?" She looked hurt. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound that mean. Mark's okay. Not perfect, but he isn't the type to give up on someone like Sara." I was talking a bit too fast and flustered, so we dropped the conversation. Kelly asked to take a break, and suggested we have a soda on the outdoor patio. We walked out. It was empty.

"Annie, you're right," she admitted. "I am Little Miss Snoopy sometimes where my friends are concerned, and right now I consider you and Sarah among my closest friends, even though we've only known each other two weeks. I drove people off pretty good early after my accident, because I was so angry and bitter. Nobody wanted me, I guessed, so I acted like I didn't need anybody else. So if I seem snoopy, it's because right now I'm caring for somebody again–you two. And don't worry. I'm a snoop, but I'm not a gossip."

"Is this leading somewhere, Kelly? I know that you're not a gossip, that's one of the reasons we enjoy sitting with you at mealtimes. We don't like that either. But what there be to gossip about on Sarah and me?" Hmmm.

"Okay. Please trust me on this. First of all, I know you're not Julie."

My mouth fell open. "What? What do you mean?"

"That phone booth is an old broom closet and it isn't soundproofed. Sometimes I overhear conversations without trying to, especially when I'm entering or leaving my room. One day, Sarah was in there, and she was talking to Julie, calling her that, and calling her Sis, and asking how basketball camps were going at Westland. I know that you can't get into Hope Haven without a family member, and if you were pretending to be Julie, then you weren't another family member."

I admitted she was right, that I was a close friend who didn't want to leave Sarah alone at such a tough time, since her folks couldn't be here for fear of losing their jobs, or her sister for losing her chance at a good education.

"You are a very close friend," she said. "Very close. Now I may be way off base, and you can slug me if you want, or scream at me, or laugh, or walk away angry, but I really do want to know if my suspicion is correct. Again, I won't tell anybody. Promise. Are you Mark?"

I sighed, stunned. I finally nodded. I explained what had happened and why I agreed to spend these weeks with Sara. She smiled when I told about some of the goofy situations we experienced. She seemed to believe it when I told her that we were trying to be true to our commitment not to have sex during this time. Finally I asked how she figured it out.

"Sarah never showed me a picture of Mark, like most girls do their boyfriends. There weren't any pictures of Mark on her dresser in her room. She seemed so comfortable and happy talking about him, but I didn't see any real signs that she and him were communicating. And you two get along way too well for sisters," she smiled. "It would explain why you always wear makeup on your face. I don't see you as being the kind that would be concerned about a complexion problem, like you told me about earlier, especially around Hope Haven, unless that complexion problem was a beard. The final evidence for me was this morning, when you were working with Sarah on some exercises and were real close to her, there seemed to be a bulge in that cute sundress."

I looked bleakly at her. "I trust you that you won't give us away, Kelly. But now I'm terrified. If you figured it out, somebody else might. I'd been feeling so secure in all this, so smug, and now all I can think of is the disaster that would happen if the staff at Hope Haven, or the staff here at the hospital found out. I thought we could carry it off. But if we can't, this is just too critical a time in Sara's life for that to happen. I don't really care what happens to me, but it could devastate the girl I love."

"Hey," she said, patting my hands. "Nice nails, by the way. Did I ever tell you that? But you do such a great job at being Annie, you're so absolutely convincing, that I doubted my doubts about you. If anyone can make this happen, you can. By the way. I know you told me that you had never done this before, but are you having fun as Annie?"

"Yes, I'll have to admit it. I am enjoying it. I never thought I would. I hope that doesn't mean there's anything wrong with me."

"Nothing's wrong with you, Mark. Just keep on enjoying being Annie, and this will all work out. Trust me."

Snoopy or not, I was going to miss this girl.

Friday, June 27

With the kids gathered on the porch cheering me on like I was in the Tour de France, I rode past Hope Haven three or four times, showing off shamelessly. The last time the street was clear, so I sprinted for speed, back horizontal, and I could feel the long blue and red streamers tugging sharply at my hair, whipping straight back in the windstream. Thunderous applause from the eager troops. I slowed down, cornered up a curb cut to the sidewalk, and did a victory lap, hands clasped above my head.

As I walked the bike back up the ramp leading to the porch, I said, "There’s someone else who deserves more cheers. Sarah Beth Holding took her first steps on a new right leg today." When the new cheering subsided, I continued. "She didn’t do just a step or two, she made it the length of the walking ramp." That was a twenty-foot section of floor with traction strips, enclosed on either side by arm rails. The leg wasn’t cosmetic by a long shot. It looked like something from the interior of an airplane wing merged together with the bottom half of a mannequin. It fit clear around her waist like a second pair of pants. Sarah grumbled about the bulk it would add to her waistline. On the right side of the "garment" there was a stump-size cup extending down to all the mechanical rods and hinges, to a shoe over a plastic foot on the bottom. They helped her into it, and they began to work with her on standing and moving. The knee and ankle would bend, but the way that the unit balanced from her hip would keep it all from collapsing. Since she couldn’t raise the leg much from her short stump, she had to raise her hip, rocking from side to side. It was tremendous exertion, and she was exhausted. But since it was cooler that afternoon, she had asked me to do the bicycle exhibition.

Billy came up to me as I took off the pink helmet. "I love those long ribbons," he teased.
I reached back to unfasten them and grinned evilly. "Would you like to wear them, Billy?"

He backpedaled, holding his hand up, and pointed to his bald head. "Nothing to fasten it to, Julie."

"You’ve never heard of tape?" I chortled and moved toward him. He retreated even more rapidly.

About that time, the cab pulled up to take Kelly to the bus station. Kelly leaned down to hug Sarah and kiss her cheek. "It’s hard to believe we’ve known each other for only two weeks. You and Annie are practically my best friends. Write, okay? Let me know how this all turns out?"

I picked up her bag to carry it to the cab. When we got out of earshot from the others, she said, "Annie, Mark, what you guys are doing is so cool. I’ll pray for the best for both of you."

"And we’ll pray for you, kid," I said. "Some people see the scars, but I see the second most beautiful woman I know." She gasped, grinned, and kissed me on the lips. More thunderous applause from the porch. I blushed. "Did Sarah tell you? We’re not officially engaged or anything, and it probably won’t happen, but we want you in our wedding, okay?"

"Wouldn’t miss it for the world," she grinned. "You’ll make a beautiful bride. But what will Sarah Beth wear?"