what she thought about it. She always had an answer, and I'd nod, thinking about it. Sometimes she asked me what I thought, and I did my best, too, though there were moments when I was bluffing and I was sure that she could tell. 'Is that what it
really means to you?' she'd ask, and I'd rub my chin and think about it before trying again. Sometimes, though, it was her fault when I couldn't concentrate, what with that hand on my knee and all.
One Friday night I brought her over for dinner at my house. My mom joined us for the main course, then left the table and sat in the den so that we could be alone.
It was nice there, sitting with Jamie, and I knew she felt the same way. She hadn't been leaving her house much, and this was a good change for her.
Since she'd told me about her illness, Jamie had stopped wearing her hair in a bun, and it was still as stunning as it had been the first time I'd seen her wear it down. She was looking at the china cabinet—my mom had one of those cabinets with the lights inside—when I reached across the table and took her hand.
'Thank you for coming over tonight,' I said.
She turned her attention back to me. 'Thanks for inviting me.'
I paused. 'How's your father holding up?'
Jamie sighed. 'Not too well. I worry about him a lot.'
'He loves you dearly, you know.'
'I know.'
'So do I,' I said, and when I did, she looked away. Hearing me say this seemed to frighten her again.
'Will you keep coming over to my house?' she asked. 'Even later, you know, when . . . ?'
I squeezed her hand, not hard, but enough to let her know that I meant what I said.
'As long as you want me to come, I'll be there.'
'We don't have to read the Bible anymore, if you don't want to.'
'Yes,' I said softly, 'I think we do.'
She smiled. 'You're a good friend, Landon. I don't know what I'd do without you.'
She squeezed my hand, returning the favor. Sitting across from me, she looked radiant.
'I love you, Jamie,' I said again, but this time she wasn't frightened. Instead our eyes met across the table, and I watched as hers began to shine. She sighed and looked away, running her hand through her hair, then turned to me again. I kissed her hand, smiling in return.
'I love you, too,' she finally whispered.
They were the words I'd been praying to hear.
I don't know if Jamie told Hegbert about her feelings for me, but I somehow doubted it because his routine hadn't changed at all. It was his habit to leave the house whenever I came over after school, and this continued. I would knock at the door and listen as Hegbert explained to Jamie that he would be leaving and would be back in a couple of hours. 'Okay, Daddy,' I always heard her say, then I would wait for Hegbert to open the door. Once he let me in, he would open the hallway closet and silently pull out his coat and hat, buttoning the coat up all the way before he left the house. His coat was old-fashioned, black and long, like a trench coat without zippers, the kind that was fashionable earlier this century. He seldom spoke directly to me, even after he learned that Jamie and I'd begun to read the Bible together.
Though he still didn't like me in the house if he wasn't there, he nonetheless allowed me to come in. I knew that part of the reason had to do with the fact that he didn't want Jamie to get chilled by sitting on the porch, and the only other alternative was to wait at the house while I was there. But I think Hegbert needed some time alone, too, and that was the real reason for the change. He didn't talk to me about the rules of the house—I could see them in his eyes the first time he'd said I could stay. I was allowed to stay in the living room, that was all.
Jamie was still moving around fairly well, though the winter was miserable. A cold streak blew in during the last part of January that lasted nine days, followed by three straight days of drenching rain. Jamie had no interest in leaving the house in such weather, though after Hegbert had gone she and I might stand on the porch for just a couple of minutes to breathe the fresh sea air.
Whenever we did this, I found myself worrying about her.
While we read the Bible, people would knock at the door at least three times every day. People were always dropping by, some with food, others just to say hello. Even Eric and Margaret came over, and though Jamie wasn't allowed to let them in, she did so anyway, and we sat in the living room and talked a little, both of them unable to meet her gaze.
They were both nervous, and it took them a couple of minutes to finally get to the point. Eric had come to apologize, he said, and he said that he couldn't imagine why all this had happened to her of all people. He also had something for her, and he set an envelope on the table, his hand shaking. His voice was choked up as he spoke, the words ringing with the most heartfelt emotion I'd ever heard him express.
'You've got the biggest heart of anyone I've ever met,' he said to Jamie, his voice cracking, 'and even though I took it for granted and wasn't always nice to you, I wanted to let you know how I feel. I've never been more sorry about anything in my life.' He paused and swiped at the corner of his eye. 'You're the best person I'll probably ever know.'
As he was fighting back his tears and sniffling, Margaret had already given in to hers and sat weeping on the couch, unable to speak. When Eric had finished, Jamie wiped tears from her cheeks, stood slowly, and smiled, opening her arms in what could only be called a gesture of forgiveness. Eric went to her willingly, finally beginning to cry openly as she gently caressed his hair, murmuring to him. The two of them held each other for a long time as Eric sobbed until he was too exhausted to cry anymore.
Then it was Margaret's turn, and she and Jamie did exactly the same thing.
When Eric and Margaret were ready to leave, they pulled on their jackets and looked at Jamie one more time, as if to remember her forever. I had no doubt that they wanted to think of her as she looked right then. In my mind she was beautiful, and I know they felt the same way.
'Hang in there,' Eric said on his way out the door. 'I'll be praying for you, and so will everybody else.' Then he looked toward me, reached out, and patted me on the shoulder. 'You too,' he said, his eyes red. As I watched them leave, I knew I'd never been prouder of either of them.
Later, when we opened the envelope, we learned what Eric had done. Without telling us, he'd collected over $400 dollars for the orphanage.
I waited for the miracle.
It hadn't come.
In early February the pills Jamie was taking were increased to help offset the heightened pain she was feeling. The higher dosages made her dizzy, and twice she fell when walking to the bathroom, one time hitting her head against the washbasin. Afterward she insisted that the doctors cut back her medicine, and with reluctance they did. Though she was able to walk normally, the pain she was
feeling intensified, and sometimes even raising her arm made her grimace. Leukemia is a disease of the blood, one that runs its course throughout a person's body. There was literally no escape from it as long as her heart kept beating.
But the disease weakened the rest of her body as well, preying on her muscles, making even simple things more difficult. In the first week of February she lost six pounds, and soon walking became difficult for her, unless it was only for a short distance. That was, of course, if she could put up with the pain, which in time she couldn't. She went back to the pills again, accepting the dizziness in
place of pain.
Still we read the Bible.
Whenever I visited Jamie, I would find her on the couch with the Bible already opened, and I knew that eventually her father would have to carry her there if we wanted to continue. Though she never said anything to me about it, we both knew exactly what it meant.
I was running out of time, and my heart was still telling me that there was something more I could do.
On February 14, Valentine's Day, Jamie picked out a passage from Corinthians that meant a lot to her. She told me that if she'd ever had the chance, it was the passage she'd wanted read at her wedding. This is what it said:
Love is always patient and kind. It is never jealous. Love is never boastful or conceited. It is never rude or selfish. It does not take offense and is not resentful. Love takes no pleasure in other people's sins, but delights in
