UNTIL ANGELS CLOSE MY EYES
Chapter Eight
September 17, 2004
Over the weeks that followed,
Rose found herself enjoying Jack’s presence more and more. He was nothing like
Cal—he wasn’t overwhelmingly arrogant, he didn’t pressure her for sex—in fact, he
seemed to be a little shy about the whole subject, though she had peeked at his
portfolio and found some drawings of nude women, some of whom seemed to be
scarred or missing body parts, especially limbs.
She had caught a ride with him to
and from school for a couple of days when her car in the ship getting a
tune-up, and she had noticed right away that he was a much more responsible
driver than Cal. He actually waited for it to be safe before pulling out into
the street, and when someone walked in front of his car, he stopped and waited
instead of honking his horn insistently and coming close to hitting them. He
told her that he had seen a bad accident once where someone had been hit by a
car, and it had given him a healthy appreciation for what a car could do to a
human being.
Rose appreciated the fact that
Jack thought of things beyond himself. So many kids seemed to feel that if it
didn’t directly affect them, it wasn’t worth thinking about, but Jack had a
broader worldview, and he was more than happy to show her the things he cared
about. She had fun with him, and enjoyed many of the quirky things other kids
thought were weird.
Ruth still didn’t quite approve,
and Rose knew it, but they had maintained a tentative peace since the night
Jack had come to visit, with Rose not challenging her mother over every little
thing and Ruth in turn keeping quiet about Rose’s growing relationship with the
boy next door.
Jack, too, was enjoying being
with Rose, though the closer they got, the more uncomfortable he grew with
keeping certain secrets from her. She had been very open and honest with him,
but he couldn’t quite bring himself to be the same with her. He hadn’t told her
that he was adopted—though it really wasn’t that big a deal to him anymore. He
had no issues over being rejected by his birth parents—they hadn’t meant to
die, leaving behind an infant son—and he knew who his other blood relatives
were. The parents who had raised him had emphasized that they didn’t love him
any less because he wasn’t born to them—rather, he had been a special child who
had come along at a time when they had learned that they would probably never
have children of their own. No matter what happened, he was their son.
But it wasn’t just the fact that
he was adopted that he hadn’t told her about. He carefully skirted around
anything that might lead to a discussion of his childhood illness. It was
something that was over and done with—he hoped—and a lot of kids had treated
him like a freak when they found out about it. He didn’t want the same
treatment now from Rose or anyone else.
One Friday evening in September,
Rose came to his house for dinner and then went out into the back yard with him
to sit on the porch swing. His parents were far more approving of Rose than
Rose’s mother was of him, so she often came to his house.
They rocked back and forth
gently, holding hands, until Jack looked through the sliding glass door into
the house and determined that his parents weren’t watching them. Then, smiling,
he slid closer to Rose and pulled her into his arms. Rose giggled.
“So, they finally went to watch
TV instead of us?” she asked, leaning her head against his shoulder.
“Yep. Finally.” Jack’s parents
liked Rose, but they had no desire to watch any displays of affection between
the two, and would separate them whenever they got too close. Holding hands was
fine, and so was the occasional hug, but anything more brought disapproving
looks. Jack was sure they knew that he and Rose liked to sit outside and kiss,
which they tolerated, but they didn’t want to watch.
Rose turned and kissed him, a
smile spreading across her face when he returned the gesture. She wrapped her
arms around him and pulled him closer, enjoying the feeling of his arms around
her and his mouth on hers. She moved her hands to his head, running her fingers
through his blonde hair.
When they broke apart for a
moment, Rose took a deep breath, trying to find the courage to tell him how she
had grown to feel over the time they had known each other. When Jack leaned
towards her again, she moved her head back, opening her mouth to tell him.
“Jack, I…” She hesitated.
“What? What is it, Rose?”
“I…” She took a deep breath,
gathering her courage. “I love you.”
He pulled back from her, a
strange look crossing his face.
Rose immediately felt stupid.
“Jack…I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have said that. Just…just forget I ever said it.
You obviously don’t feel the same way…”
“No. No, it’s not that. I do…I
mean…but I can’t…I shouldn’t…”
“What?” Rose stared at him,
confused. What was he saying? Then her eyes widened in shock. “Oh, my God.
You’re gay.”
Jack gave her an astonished look.
“What? No! No, I’m not.” He ran his fingers through his hair, looking
embarrassed. “I mean…if I were gay, why would I have been kissing you like
that? No, that’s not it at all.”
“Then you don’t return my
feelings.”
“No…I mean, yes…I do, but…”
Rose was staring at him. “Jack,
you’re confusing me. If I’ve embarrassed you…if you don’t feel the same way
about me…I can take it. That’s life. It happens. I hope we can still be
friends, though…”
“Rose…” Jack got up from the
porch swing and went to the edge of the lawn, staring out into the darkness.
Rose followed and stood beside
him. “Jack?” She put a hand on his arm. “What’s going on?”
“Rose, I…” He turned to her. “I…I
do love you. I have for a while, but…I shouldn’t. It isn’t right.”
“Why? Is there someone else?”
“No, there’s no one else.” He
scuffed his feet against the grass nervously. “I can’t fall in love…it’s not
fair to you…”
“Why?”
He took a deep breath, stepping away
and wrapping his arms around himself, wishing he didn’t have to tell her.
“Rose…I have cancer.”
Rose stared at him, stunned.
“Cancer?! Jack…my God…why didn’t you tell me?”
“I…it never came up…and…I don’t
really have it right now…I’m in remission.”
“What kind do…did…you
have?”
“Leukemia. I’ve had it twice,
first when I was eleven and then again when I was fifteen. I’ve been in
remission since I was sixteen.”
“But are you cured?”
“I think so…”
“You think so?”
“Well, when I turned eighteen, I
wasn’t referred to a new oncologist, and I’m sure they would have if I still
had leukemia.”
“But isn’t it supposed to be five
years before they consider you cured?”
“Yes, but…I don’t know.” He sat
down on the swing again. Rose sat next to him, resting her chin in her hand.
“Jack, why didn’t you tell me
you’d had cancer? You know pretty much everything about me…but you haven’t told
me much at all about yourself, it seems.”
He sighed. “Rose…you’ve gotta
understand…people look at me like I’m a freak when they find out I’ve had
cancer. I mean, kids our age…a lot of them think that cancer’s just something
that happens to old people…but there’s actually a lot of kids who get it. Some
of those drawings in my portfolio…those are of people I’ve known who’ve had
cancer. Some of them are gone now, in spite of being young. The cancer doesn’t
care.”
“Jack…”
“Some kids have even thought they
could catch it from me.”
“Jack, I know you can’t catch
cancer. My grandmother had breast cancer, and I was around her a lot and never
caught it. And I wouldn’t think you’re a freak. I thought you knew me better
than that.”
There was an edge to her voice.
She had never been anything but honest with him, no matter what it was about,
but he had been keeping his illness a secret from her. And it wasn’t just a
little secret, either, something that could be forgotten about.
“Rose, dammit…I didn’t want you
looking at me like I’m a freak.”
“But I just said—“
“I know, but I could I know how
you’d react? We’ve barely known each other a month.”
“Have I ever given any indication
that I thought you were a freak or something?”
“No, but that was before you
knew—“
“Jack, I’ve always been honest
with you, but apparently you don’t feel the same need to be honest with me.
What other secrets are you hiding?” she spat at him. “Next you’re going to tell
me you’re adopted or something.”
“Actually, I am.”
Rose turned to stare at him. “My
God. All that concern you showed for me…was it all an act? Were you just
looking to see if anyone else had problems in their life? Did it make you feel
better about yourself or something?”
“Rose, I do care! But this isn’t
something I like to talk about.”
“Of course not. I’ve been doing
all the talking anyway!”
“I’ve been understanding of you!
Why can’t you be more understanding of me and why I don’t want to talk about
having cancer?”
Rose got up, heading for the
door. “Jack, I don’t know what to think. I thought we trusted each other. I
thought we had something, and now I found out you’ve been hiding something this
important from me!” She slid the door open. “I’m going home. I need to think.
Don’t worry, though. I won’t tell anyone your precious secret.” She was in the
door and across the living room before Jack could do more than step after her.
“Rose, wait!”
“Leave me alone, Jack. I don’t
think I want to be around you right now. Maybe, if you decide to be honest with
me, we can try again.”
She rushed through the kitchen
and out the front door. Jack watched her go, then slowly went back outside and
stared off into the dark yard, lost in thought.