LACEY HELD HER head high as she walked down the hall at school, her gaze focused straight ahead. She avoided eye contact with everyone because she was certain that everybody in the school was discussing her. And her diabetes.
“It’s a big school,” Jeff had reminded her the night before as he’d said good night. “I don’t think you should be worried about being the main topic of conversation.”
She’d slept fitfully, nervous about returning and facing the kids in her circle who had never known about her disease.
“Wait up!” Terri called. Lacey stopped and waited until Terri came alongside her. “I need you to come with me to the auditorium after school,” Terri said, slightly out of breath.
“Why? I was going straight home after school.”
“You can’t spare me fifteen minutes?”
“I don’t want to hang around.”
“Just come with me.” Before Lacey could beg off, the bell rang and Terri dashed away. She called over her shoulder, “See you at three.”
At three Lacey went to the auditorium only because Terri had been a good friend to her during her ordeal. She pushed the heavy door open and saw that the vast room was empty. Onstage, the curtain had been pulled open and there was a single chair lit with a spotlight. Curious, Lacey hugged her books closer and walked down the sloping floor to the stage. She climbed the steps, crossed to the chair, and saw a sign taped to the seat. She read: SIT HERE.
Lacey glanced around for Terri. All at once, from backstage, a throng of kids surged forward, Terri leading the pack. In unison they yelled, “Surprise!”
Lacey stood immobile as the cast and crew of the play swarmed around her. “Did we surprise you?” Maria asked.
“Did you suspect anything?” Terri wanted to know.
Lacey shot Terri a glance that could kill. “I’m surprised, all right,” she said.
“Good.” Terri ignored her expression and grabbed her arm. “Come backstage. We have a party all set up.”
Farther back and to one side there was a table heaped with vegetable trays, diet sodas, and a magnificent fruit platter decorated with a sign reading: WELCOME BACK, LACEY. Ms. Kasch hugged Lacey warmly. “It’s wonderful to have you back in school. We’ve been concerned, but Terri has kept us well informed. I called the hospital switchboard all through spring break to check on you personally. You gave us quite a fright on opening night.”
Others came forward and hugged Lacey too. Two of the group told her about a friend and a parent who had diabetes. “If you’d ever had a reaction, I’d have known exactly what to do,” a girl named Gloria assured her.
Lacey felt overwhelmed by the attention and concern. She had expected shunning, not understanding. “I’m sorry I loused up opening night,” Lacey told them.
“The show went on,” Ms. Kasch said. “But we sure missed you.”
“We missed your makeup,” Gordon called out. “I did my own and I looked more like Freddy Krueger than the character I was playing.”
Laughter rippled through the group.
“Let’s eat,” someone suggested, and kids scattered toward the food table.
At first Lacey felt uncomfortable with everyone restricted to eating the foods best for her. But no one appeared to care as they piled paper plates high with raw vegetables, dips, crackers, and fruit. She also realized that even if the table had been overflowing with sweets and goodies, she could have taken a taste of whatever she wanted without feeling guilty. Tastes were okay. Pigging out wasn’t.
Lacey turned when the side stage door swung open and sunlight spilled inside. “Are we late?” Todd asked as he sauntered in, his arm around Monet’s waist.
“Yes, you’re late,” Ms. Kasch said. Her look of disapproval caused Todd to release his hold on Monet.
Lacey felt herself tense, but she pointedly ignored Todd and walked over to Terri, who was busily rummaging for paper napkins in a grocery sack.
“Sorry about him,” Terri said as she pulled out the package of napkins. “But Ms. Kasch insisted all the kids come to your party. I didn’t actually invite him, but of course, word got around.”
“No problem,” Lacey said. “I’m completely over him.” She watched Todd make the rounds of the different groups, noticing how he constantly vied for the attention of the others and how his manners bordered on rudeness. She thought about Jeff and recalled the way he’d held her, letting her cry, talking to her, and making her feel special. She wondered how she could have ever been so stupid as to want to date a guy like Todd.
He came toward her. She lifted her head and gave him her frostiest stare. “I’m glad to see you,” he said. “I was going to visit you in the hospital, but I went skiing with my folks in Aspen. I was out of town while you were sick.”
“I had plenty to keep me busy,” she said.
“So you aren’t mad?”
“I’m not mad,” she said, meaning it. “Being mad implies I care. And I don’t care.” She watched the expression on his face shift as her words sank in. But before he could say anything, she added, “Have a good life, Todd,” and turned away.
“Good putdown,” Terri told her.
“I meant every word,” Lacey said. She went with Terri to the food table and chose an assortment of vegetables and fruit.
She looked up to see Monet standing on the opposite side of the table. Their gazes clashed. Dark half circles rimmed Monet’s eyes, and her skin didn’t radiate a healthy glow. To any other observer, Monet was still quite pretty, but Lacey knew Monet’s secret. Suddenly, Lacey felt sorry for the girl.
Monet said, “I was sorry to hear you’re sick.”
“I’m not sick,” Lacey told her. “I have diabetes. And at least I’m on top of my problem.”
Monet’s gaze darted anxiously from side to side, looking to see if anyone might be overhearing the conversation. “Are you saying I have a problem?”
Lacey nodded. “You know you do, and it’ll catch up with you sooner or later.”
“Butt out,” Monet said tersely. She turned on her heel and stalked away.
“What was that all about?” Terri asked. Curiosity all but leaked from her pores.
“I can’t say.”
“Why not? What’s going on? Come on … tell me.”
Lacey shook her head. “Let’s just say that Monet is headed for big-time trouble.” Lacey was certain that Monet was bulimic and had been for some time. And she knew from her sessions with Dr. Rosenberg that Monet needed therapy to deal with her eating disorder. Still, Lacey doubted that Monet would listen to a word Lacey had to say on the subject. All her feelings of dislike for Monet dissolved as she realized how desperate Monet must be to force herself to vomit to remain thin rather than accept herself as she was.
Lacey turned toward Terri and asked, “So, isn’t there anything chocolate at this party?”
“You can still eat chocolate?” Terri asked.
“Sure, as long as I’m smart about it.”
Terri grinned. “Terrific. I’d hate to think you had to go through the rest of your life without chocolate.”
“Me too.” She glanced toward Monet, who was clinging to Todd’s hand. “But there are worse things to go through life without,” Lacey said. To herself, she added, Like self-respect.
“You look wonderful, honey.”
“You’re my dad. Of course you think I look good.”
Lacey was sitting across from her father in a restaurant, the aromas of charbroiled steaks filling the air.
“How’s school going?”
“Fine. The stay in the hospital didn’t put me far behind at all. I’m even ahead in some courses. Did I mention that my friend Katie’s coming for a track meet next month? I’m really looking forward to seeing her.” She sensed he wanted to have a heart-to-heart talk and she wasn’t sure she felt like having one, especially in a restaurant.
“I’m sorry if I did anything to cause your problem with your diabetes,” he finally said.
“You’ve been talking to Dr. Rosenberg, haven’t you?”
“We’ve had several discussions.”
“And you’re feeling guilty about my diabetes.” He looked startled, and Lacey said, “I’ve had this same conversation with Mom. Look, I don’t hold you or Mom responsible for passing along bad genes to me. And I don’t feel responsible for your divorce either.”
Even in the dim light she could tell his face had reddened. “I know Dr. Rosenberg feels the marital problems between Mom and me contributed to your failure to manage your diabetes properly. I never thought our problems would affect you so much. It never occurred to me that our fights would cause you grief.”
“They did,” she admitted. “But I didn’t deliberately sabotage my control to get even with the two of you. Although it was nice having both of you with me at the hospital. Like a real family.”
“Lacey, I can’t go back and undo the damage. I only hope that someday you’ll understand.” He lifted her chin with his forefinger. “You do know that no matter what, I love you. And I always will.”
She nodded. “I know how you both feel about me. What bothered me was why you couldn’t ever love each other.” A film of moisture formed in her eyes.
“I have no excuses for you. Only that some people shouldn’t be together. I’m sorry if we hurt you.”
Sorry. That word appeared to be the most often used to Lacey’s way of thinking. She was a diabetic. Her parents were divorced. Her best friends lived daily with the threat of imminent death. Everyone was sorry, but nothing was going to change the facts. “I’m sorry too, Dad. So, I guess there’s nothing to do but keep on keeping on.” She dabbed her eyes with the corner of her linen napkin.
“What will you do this summer?” her father asked, changing the subject. “There’ll be some openings in my office for temporary help. Would you like to interview for a position?”
She shook her head. Until that moment she hadn’t been sure what she wanted to do. Now she did know. “I got a letter from Mr. Holloway last week inviting me to be a counselor,” she told her father. “That’s what I want to do. I want to go back to Jenny House for the summer.”