Heart Strings (7 page)

“What do you think you're doing?” she demanded, batting his arm away.

“Seeing how small you are.”

“Just as I thought,” she said, in mock indignation. “And for being so insulting, you can practice ball with Joey on Tuesday morning as well. Maybe every day.”

“Will you play shortstop?” Tripp teased, wrapping his arm around her waist.

“You think you're funny, don't you?” Her hair fanned out around her face, and the moonlight brought out tiny gold flecks in her hazel eyes. He wanted to really kiss her. “Just wait, I'll find something to tease you about.”

“I hope not,” he said.

“Do you have flat feet? Do you snore? Walk in your sleep?

“I wouldn't admit to any of those if I did.”

“Do you have hidden tattoos, moles, or scars?”

He had a telling scar.

A car with headers rumbled by so loudly, the plants hanging on the porch shook, and Keely jumped away, looking toward Jefferson's house.
Mark
. She was thinking of him crashing. On this block. It would be hard losing a friend that way. Tripp took her hand to comfort her, and she jerked it away. It wasn't like Mark was her boyfriend.

After a minute or two, she broke the silence. “What about your summer schedule, Tripp? Tell me about your work with HAH.”

“Hah?” he joked.

“Ha, ha,” she said, giving him a weak smile.

“HAH isn't work. It's a joy.” And he was off, running his mouth, telling her about the kids. Marianne, Niger, Manuel, Rosa. Rosa. How could he have forgotten? “Keely, I have a favor to ask.”

She looked at him warily and he told her about Rosa, her bravery and sense of humor, and how she had only younger kids to talk to, then finished with Rosa's request. “I offered to put on my curly wig for girl talk, but she said, 'You can do better than that, Trippo.’”

“Trippo? A curly wig?” Keely laughed and began asking all sorts of questions. “What do you usually wear? What do you do? Don't you feel silly?” Then she asked all the serious stuff about the kids and their chances of survival and recovery. When he'd answered everything she wanted to know, she looked sad. “I don't see how you can let yourself get attached to kids and face the possibility of their … deaths.” Shuddering, she whispered the word.

Were his parents afraid to get too close to him? They'd known since his birth that he might not live, so they might have chosen to keep their emotional distance. But he was still here, and Mark, who was born healthy, was dead. You couldn’t pick and choose your attachments. Life didn't come with guarantees. “I can't say I'm not scared one of the kids will be gone when I walk in one day. But I'll still feel lucky I knew them.”

“You're braver than I am. How did you start volunteering?”

He'd hoped she wouldn't ask. He'd love to tell her everything, about his long wait and how thankful he was, and about Mark's part in it. For what seemed like the jillionth time, and Tripp was sure it wouldn't be the last, he regretted the promise he'd made Evelyn Jefferson. “Someone told me about Have-a-Heart and I knew immediately I'd like to help.”

He'd been in the hospital waiting for his transplant when a young Hispanic woman came to see him wearing a yellow polka-dotted clown suit and a hat that looked like a banana. She'd sung a silly song that began, “I'm Rosita Banana, and I've come to say. New hearts must be gotten in a certain way.” When she'd finished, he was laughing, and she'd told him about Have-a-Heart. “When you are well, maybe you will become ze banana man.” He never wanted to wear a banana hat, but Tripp knew then that he was hooked on helping.

“You daydream a lot for a guy,” Keely said, nudging him.

“Hey, guys can daydream,” he said. “Besides, I really get wrapped up in those kids. They have a lot of love and happiness to give, and I enjoy giving back to them.” Looking past the house next door, to the Jefferson place, he could see the porch light was on. “I'd better go. It looks like Aunt Ev's waiting up.”

Keely looked from him to the Jefferson house and back again. “Why did you tell me you two weren't related, then start calling her Aunt Ev?” Keely put her hands on her hips. “Is she your aunt or not?”

“Yes. I mean, no. Sort of.”

“Do you mean she's an aunt by marriage?”

“Yes. That's it.”

“Then you're a nephew on George's side of the family.”

“No. I'm not from George's side. Johnny is on her side. I mean, I'm Jonathan but some people call me … him … me … Johnny. But please don't call me that.”

Keely looked up at him in the moonlight and Tripp hoped she'd never seen blond, curly-haired Johnny's pictures. He also hoped his nose wasn't growing like Pinocchio's. He never lied and wasn't good at it. Left alone, he'd dig a hole and pull it in after him. “How about meeting Rosa?” he asked quickly.

Keely locked her hands tightly together.

“You won't regret it.”

“If she … I might.” Keely rose and he stood to look pleadingly into her eyes. She averted her gaze. “Give me time to think about it.”

Time wasn't always available with heart patients, but she had to decide on her own. “Just let me know when you're ready.” Pulling her into his arms, he held her tightly, and slipping her arms around his waist, she hugged him back.

Sprinting home, he breathed deeply, sucking in greedy mouthfuls of the fresh night air. Life was good.

*****

CHAPTER 7

“I want cereal with bananas and two strawberry toaster pops,” Joey insisted. “I need lots of energy for ball practice.”

Half-awake, Keely sliced banana onto his Cocoa Puffs while he devoured his breakfast pastries. With that done, she sipped a glass of juice and watched him eat. It was amazing how Joey sprang out of bed fully awake and hungry.

Someone knocked at the back door. “I'll get it!” Her brother opened the door before she could blink. “Tripp. Come in.”

Tripp? Her hand went to her hair. She'd flopped it on top of her head and fastened it with a big barrette, so the ends were sticking out everywhere. In no hurry to dress, she'd pulled a pair of red runner's shorts on underneath the old “Friends” nightshirt she wore to bed. Moving quickly to the sink with Joey's dishes, she eyed the doorway to the hall and stairs. Escape to her room was only a few steps away.

“Hi, sport.” Tripp was only a few feet behind her. Pretending not to notice, she kept her back to him. “Ready to play catch?” His voice was huskier than usual. Did he always sound that way in the morning? Running a tiny dish mop around and around inside a cereal bowl, she imagined him sitting up in bed, stretching his muscled arms over his head. Blinking his dark eyes against the morning light coming in Mark's bedroom window. She dropped the dish mop, splattering soap up her arms.

“Good morning, Keely.” Tripp sounded happy. She bobbed her head hello.

“Sis is slow at waking up. See? She isn't even dressed yet,” Joey said.

Oh, great. Now Tripp would know this was her nightshirt.

“Why are you washing that bowl?” Joey demanded. “We have a dishwasher.”

“Why don't you get your mitt and we'll go outside, Joey?” Tripp suggested.

Did she detect a smile in his voice?

As Joey ran from the room, Tripp touched her shoulder. “Take your time waking up. We'll start without you, but I'll look forward to seeing you on the job.”

*****

Closing her bedroom door behind her, Keely touched the pink heart from her and Mark's sweetheart dance. The net ruffle was limp now, the cardboard yellow, but when she closed her eyes, the memory that sprang into focus was clear. Mark wore a black shirt and pants, scoffing at guys who'd rented tuxedoes. He was awkward on the dance floor, but his arms were tight around her, his breath warm in her ear. And when they slow-danced and he held her close, she could feel his heart beating.
“Nervous?”
she had teased.

“You kidding? Nothing scares me.”

Before she could ask if he was excited over dancing close to her, the band broke into a fast number and Mark, at ease with a fast beat, started making up crazy steps. She tried to follow, forgiving him for stepping all over her, dreaming of another slow dance. But when that number ended, he spent the rest of the evening talking cars with guys he knew. She was pretty ticked, but on the way out, he took the heart decoration off the wall and gave it to her.
“I give you my heart,”
he'd said, presenting it with a flourish. Then he kissed her and she forgave everything.

“Good catch, Joey!” Tripp's shout jarred her back to the present. Looking down from her bedroom window, she saw him smiling. He seemed to enjoy everything he did. No black moods. Just good clean fun. Swapping the nightshirt for an oversized IU T-shirt, she paused in the kitchen just long enough to check the dart board for notes. Husky laughter came through the kitchen screen loud and clear, and Keely ran outside.

The sun was high in the sky and hot. Perspiration beaded Tripp's lip. Joey's face was red. “Take a break,” she called.

“Thanks. I needed that.” Tripp sank down beside her on the back step and took off his baseball cap. His dark hair curled around the edges where it was damp. “Joey's a neat kid. I always wished I had a brother. But after my parents had me, they decided one kid was enough.”

He made a face, and she laughed, but he was so cute, she figured his parents probably thought the next kid wouldn't measure up. “I always wished I had a sister,” she confessed. “Joey's cool, but a sister would be someone to talk to. Share things with.”

“I know a girl who'd like to share things with you,” Tripp said, touching her hand.

Rosa, the girl at the hospital he'd told her about. Keely bit her lip. Could she make a new friend and survive if she lost her to death?

“You can't go through life afraid of dying, Keely.”

It was odd how he seemed to read her mind. “Aren't you ever scared?”

Tripp studied the white ball cap in his hand. “We all are sometimes. I just try not to let fear rule my life.”

Mark wasn't afraid of dying, but did. It seemed to her fear might be healthy. Of course, accidents were different. Rosa had no part in her fate. “What's she like?”

Tripp beamed. “Spirited. Funny. You'll like her. And she'll love you.”

He traced the curve of her cheek with his finger and smiled. Tripp had a gentle touch. A kind heart. How could she say no? Keely smiled. “Okay.”

He leaned closer, his lips slightly parted. His breath was sweet, his eyes warm. She'd enjoyed his hug last night. He was affectionate with people he liked. Evelyn, for instance. Was what he felt for her the same? Keely wondered. Or did he feel something more? She looked into his eyes, daring to let some of the affection she felt for him show.

“Come on, Tripp,” Joey called. “You rested long enough.”

“Okay, slugger,” Tripp said, his eyes holding Keely's as he squeezed her hand. “How about this evening after dinner then?”

Keely wondered if he was talking about the kiss he'd almost given her or a visit to Rosa. Either way, she nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

*****

Keely had never seen Tripp in his clown outfit and couldn't stop laughing. His painted smile was oversized, his nose bright blue, his feet huge. All that looked familiar were his eyes. Her mood lifted further when they stepped off the hospital elevator into a sunny yellow corridor. A cartoon character peeked at them from beside each door frame. The cardiac unit was cheerily decorated.

“Trippo,” a young nurse called from her station. “The kids have been asking for you.”

“I hope they didn't think I'd miss coming.” Tripp's face with its painted-on smile looked deliriously happy, but Keely heard concern in his voice. He'd gone with Evelyn to Heartland to celebrate George's birthday, and missed his afternoon entertainment stint.

“They know you'd have to be dead not to show up here.” The nurse's plump body shook with laughter.

“She has a weird sense of humor,” Keely said as she followed Tripp into a big recreation area filled with kids.

“Hospital humor,” he said, shrugging.

Some of the patients watched TV. Others played games. Bright plastic cubes formed tables and chairs, but most of the children sat in wheelchairs or lay on the floor on cushioned pads. “I could die before you make a move, Marianne,” a dark-skinned boy grumbled to his chess partner.

More hospital humor?
Keely shifted from one foot to the other uneasily.

“Relax,” Tripp whispered. The kids, intent on their various activities hadn't spotted him yet. Grabbing her hand, he called out. “Anyone here seen Trippo?”

“You're here!” Losing interest in the chess game, the dark boy held out his hand. “We've been waiting for you. I get first honk.”

The boy squeezed Tripp's big blue nose and it let out an awful squawk. Keely jumped, and the kids cracked up.

“Me!” his opponent called out. “Let me. I'll make her jump higher.”

Tripp allowed her a honk and Keely obliged the little girl by jumping again. She was cute when she laughed. “Me!” The others started hollering, “Me. Me.” Tripp held up his hand. Everyone quieted down. “I'll be back in a minute. But Keely's here to visit Rosa.”

Murmuring disappointment, the children returned to their activities, and her heart accelerated as she followed the corridor to Rosa's room. Tripp stood aside so Keely could catch a glimpse of the young girl before she went in.

Rosa was thin with a long fall of black curly hair. Her wheelchair was turned toward the evening light at the window, her head bent over a book. Hearing their footsteps as they moved closer, she turned and Keely was awed by her beauty. With bronze-glowing Hispanic skin and huge dark eyes with thick lashes, she'd steal a lot of guys' hearts someday if … Keely felt the blood drain from her face.

Tripp took her hand.

“Trippo! I knew you'd keep your promise,” Rosa said, her voice thick with joy.

“Rosa Lopez, this is Keely Johannsen.”

“Hi.” Closing her book, Rosa raised her hand to grasp Keely's.

“You're reading
My First Love
!” Keely gasped. “I read that just last week.”