"I wonder why he didn't send a photograph."

"Maybe he didn't have any." Kelsey thumbed her father. "How many pictures would we have of Dad if you didn't drag him to the studio?"

"I'd take lots of pictures if it weren't for this big nose."

She loved his big nose, and the ears that stood out just a little too much, his broad shoulders he used to carry her on, and his big rough hands that were so gentle when he stroked her head. Masked now and gloved, wearing scrubs and slippers, he looked like a big blue bear.

Mom handed him the picture, and he held it back a little to take a look. "I know this guy. He's the one all the women faint over."

"Daddy." Kelsey giggled, though Morgan did have that sort of movie star appearance. Pierce Brosnan and Tom Cruise together.

"You want me to hang it, honey?" He looked over her walls covered with pictures of her friends and the people praying for her.

Kelsey considered it. Morgan looked near enough the person she'd seen in the Lord's hug to know she was on track with that part of her mission and also the secret part. She wasn't exactly sure the Lord had directed the other part, but she was praying for it anyway. And since she was feeling a little better, she had renewed her efforts on both accounts. She smiled at Dad. "Okay." Morgan might not be praying for her, but she was sure praying for him.

Mom nudged him. "It's a shame to put tape on that art. Why don't we set it on the table for now, and I'll pick up a frame later."

Kelsey leaned back in her pillows. "Thanks, Mom." It hadn't gone over too well when she told them she had not only called him but asked for a picture.

"Kelsey, that's very presumptuous when we've made it clear there won't be any contact." She had apologized, and she did feel bad that they were not happy, but she didn't really regret talking to him. And she was glad she had the picture. Its being a painting actually made it stand out, though she wasn't sure yet whether that was a good thing.

She didn't want Dad or Mom to obsess on it, though they were trying not to show their discomfort. She wanted to tell them she was just curious. But maybe it was more. Everything got more important when she thought there might not be much time left.

They had determined her problems were not merely side effects of the immunotherapy drugs but acute GVHD, graft-versus-host disease, striking in spite of the drugs. Basically it meant Morgan's bone marrow had realized her body wasn't his and had decided to attack it. The "sunburn" now covered three quarters of her body, and though she was eating a little, the stomach and intestinal problems had worsened.

Dr. McGraine said there was also a graft-versus-tumor benefit to GVHD, and kids who got it had less chance of relapse. So they were all waiting for it to burn out with as little damage as possible to her important organs. Today had been a little better, and she dared to hope it was turning around.

"Guess who came to see me."

"You had a visitor?" Mom sent her a surprised and curious look. They knew no one in New Haven except the hospital workers, who were now becoming like family.

"Josh. Remember Rachel's brother?"

Mom smiled. "Of course, I remember. He came on the day of your transplant."

"He came again, but he could only stay a few minutes."

Dad seemed puzzled. "Who's Josh?"

"My friend." Kelsey pictured Josh's eyes filling with tears, then laughing at her silly jokes. "He likes bald, bearded girls."

Dad draped his hands between his knees. "He knows my little girl's the best thing going."

"Sure, Dad. I'm shaped like a pickle." The fluid leaking from her liver into her body cavity not only made her uglier than before, it was putting pressure on her lungs and making it hard to breathe.

"That's the VOD," Mom said. "Now that they're restricting salt and fluids, it'll get better."

"It has to." Dad waved at her walls. "Just look at all the people praying for you, Kelsey."

She'd felt the prayers today. She'd been much more hopeful and less tearful. Getting Morgan's picture was a bonus. Now she needed one from Jill. The two of them had given her life. That had new meaning now-even with Morgan's bone marrow making trouble inside her. The fluid buildup from the veno-occlusive liver disease, caused by the high conditioning levels of radiation and chemotherapy, the symptoms of the GVHD, her burning, peeling skin, blurred vision, and stomach and intestinal distress-it all amounted to an assault on her body that frankly made the leukemia seem tame. The enemy inside her had recruited fresh bullies, and her angels needed all the prayers people sent.

And now it was time for a fresh platelet infusion. Mom and Dad went back to the hotel apartment, and Kelsey lifted her laptop to her lap. A lot of leukemia kids had Web pages that told their story, but hers was the only interactive page for questions and answers that she knew of. It was her ministry, her way to use this nightmare for God's glory.

Not that she was any holier than the next kid. It was just that she had no chance at a normal life. It was easier to be close to Jesus when you had nothing else. The kids with everything would not understand. But the ones she wrote to needed hope and someone who would not laugh or turn away embarrassed or avoid them. Jesus came for the sick.

CHAPTER.

31.

Jill sat with Brett, Shelly, Dan, and his date in the high school bleachers. A definite fifth wheel. Yet she was ready for some all-American small-town fun to take her mind off everything else. The afternoon rain had been enough to clean and cool the air without ruining the field for tonight's game. The diamond was combed and chalked, and Beauview's varsity team stood ready in the dugout for this exhibition.

Dan's date was a petite redhead named Melissa. Her freckles were actually cute, as were her toenails painted hot pink, the hand wrapped around Dan's substantial bicep, and her little kitten teeth. She was the new EMT, and they'd met at a car wreck.

But Jill did not let any of that distract her as they stood and faced the flag while the band played the national anthem. The crowd hollered when the local boys were called out one by one to wave their hats and grin at the fans. Dan settled back and watched the first visiting batter take the plate. He crushed peanut shells, dropped the nuts into his palm, and tossed them into his mouth. Melissa carefully pulled apart the shells, rubbed the skin from each nut, then tucked them into her kitten mouth.

This was ridiculous. She was glad Dan had an interest in someone else. It not only took the pressure off but also dispelled the guilt. It was just that she felt long and gangly and her nails were their natural selves and- She jumped up and cheered when the first batter was thrown out at second.

"Does that mean he's out when the man jerks his thumb like that?"

In her peripheral vision, Jill caught Dan's surprise and silently clicked her tongue. His favorite sport, and Kitten knew nothing about it.

"Excuse me. I'm going to the bathroom." Jill stepped past Dan and Melissa to the aluminum stairs between the sections and rattled the bleacher with her steps. At the bottom, she circled the low wire fence surrounding the outfield, passed the third-base dugout, and reached the gate area near the bathrooms and concession stand.

Inside the damp concrete stall, she closed her eyes and begged forgiveness for her critical spirit. She washed at the sink, noticed the towel holders were empty, and shook her hands as she exited. Lord, don't let me become one of those bitter people who can't stand for anyone else to be happy.

She waved at several people from church, a couple fellow teachers, and some parents, then fixed her eyes on her group of friends and climbed to them. Dan took her hand to help her past and looked surprised to find it wet.

"No paper towels."

He smiled. "Oh."

She settled back in between Dan and Shelly. "Melissa, has Dan taken you out to Finnegan's Pond? It's a nice bike ride."

Melissa glanced from Dan to her. "No, but I don't have a bike."

"You'd be welcome to use mine. We can lower the seat." Jill took a peanut from Dan's bag, cracked the shell and tipped the nuts into her mouth, then returned her attention to the game, hoping there was something the two of them could enjoy together.

They all jumped to their feet for the foul ball arcing right to them, but the heavy man three rows down came up with it.

Dan sat back grumbling. "I'm going to watch what he drives."

Jill laughed. "Poor sport." She really did enjoy Dan, and maybe now they could be friends. She turned to Shelly, who'd been remarkably quiet, and tucked her head to catch her friend's gaze. "Are you okay?"

Shelly raised her chin, the setting sun turning her face pink. "I'm pregnant."

Jill caught her hand, staring. "When? How?"

"Don't ask me. They said it wouldn't happen, that the endometriosis was too advanced."

Jill knew all about the pain, the surgeries, the poor prognosis. "Shelly, that's ... it is wonderful, isn't it?"

Shelly glanced at Brett munching a handful of popcorn. "If it works."

Jill squeezed her arm. "I'm so happy."

Shelly leaned against her. "Good. I'm too shocked to be."

Jill knew that feeling, shock and terror that what was inside her would change her life forever. And it did. "I will pray for your baby every day."

Now Shelly smiled. "Throw in a few for me. My stomach is no longer my friend."

Shelly had asked her to pray! "I will. I remember how that is."

"I'm not encouraged to think the memory's fresh after fifteen years."

Jill held her own waist. "Some things you never forget." She chewed her lower lip and tried to figure out what on earth was happening in the game. A baby. Shelly was having a baby. Tears stung her eyes, and she prayed no baseball flew her way until they cleared. But then, Dan would snag anything that came within a hundred feet.

Morgan raised a hand to Todd as the kid cleared the secure area of the John Wayne Orange County Airport, a flight attendant at his side. Todd grinned but kept his slouch until Morgan thanked the woman and took Todd's shoulder in his hand. "Hey, kid."

"What's with the baby-sitter?"

The lack of an adjective proved Todd wasn't really mad.

"Thought you might need a shield in case of terrorists."

Todd looked to see if he was serious. "I'd take them out with my bare hands."

Morgan squeezed his shoulder and let him go. "Did you bring swim trunks?"

Todd shook his head. "Don't got any."

"Then that's the first order of business." They reached the luggage claim and caught Todd's bag from the carousel. "This it?" Morgan shouldered the bag.

Todd nodded. "You look different."

"How?"

"Tanner. Skinnier."

"I told you I was sick. And I went sailing with some friends yesterday." His athletic trainer, Mick, and two friends from the club. Choppy water and a cooler of beer had proved his stomach was still not up to par. "And I'm not skinny, I'm lean."

"Stan's skinny."

"Well, he's tall." They headed toward the exit for shortterm parking.

"My dad had a gut."

"Heard anything from him?"

Todd didn't answer as they passed through the doors from the airconditioning to the California sun. Then he said, "He sent me a letter."

"Did you answer?"

"No."

They rode the shuttle to the parking lot and disembarked. Todd froze in place when Morgan led him to the Vette, disarmed the alarm, and said, "Get in."

"Sweet!" Definite improvement in vocabulary. "Is it yours?"

"Yep."

Morgan tossed his bag into the trunk and got behind the wheel.

"You sold your other one?" Todd felt the gear shift like a puppy's head.

"No, I have them both."

"I like the Vette better." Todd grinned. "Make it squeal."

Morgan laughed. "Maybe later." He meandered out of the parking area, paid his fee, and took the highway toward home, surprised how good it felt to have Todd along. "You like tacos?"

Todd nodded. "Yeah."

He had told Consuela to think along thirteen-year-old-boy lines for this week's meals. With the traffic congested, they'd be good and hungry when they got there. Todd seemed content to stare at everything with the wind in his face and, if he only knew, a little-boy grin plastered on his mouth. Morgan zoomed the last stretch of road and squealed the turn to his private drive, then coded the gate to open.

Todd shook his head with another grin. "I thought you were lying."

"About what?" Morgan cruised past his neighbors' homes.

"How rich you are."

He pulled into the garage. "I don't lie to you, Todd. But everything's relative."

"What's that mean?" Todd closed his door and immediately scoped out the backyard through the garage window.

"Means there are guys with more, bigger, and better." He nudged Todd toward the back door and they stepped out into the yard.

"A pool?"