The Courage Tree - Diane Chamberlain [131]
Joe nodded. “And I know now that she was getting well.”
“Yes.” Schaefer nodded. “I spoke with Lucas. He called from the hospital and told me that you know everything.”
“I was…shocked,” Joe said. “I still am.”
“You understand the need to keep what you know to yourself, don’t you?” Schaefer looked worried.
“Yes, I do.” Joe shifted in his seat. He’d come to this meeting with several questions on his mind, questions that had kept him awake most of the night, and he was anxious to get to them. “Do you think Sophie would have been cured if she’d been able to continue with the…P.R.E.-5?” he asked.
“I’m not sure about cured.” Schaefer played with the silver fountain pen on his desk, rolling it an inch to the left, an inch to the right. “But I believe we could have gotten her disease under very good control. And I believe that Lucas was on to something, and if he’d only had the chance, he could have played around with his formula, or maybe with the way it was, uh, administered, and in time, he would have come up with both a cure for the kids and a way to make it work with adults. That’s where he was headed.”
“Well, he can still do that, right?” Joe asked. “You’re talking in the past tense.”
Schaefer shook his head. “Did he tell you how sick he is?”
“He needs frequent dialysis. An eventual transplant, I suppose?”
“They took him off the transplant list.”
“Why would they do that? Because he’s too sick?” He remembered that Sophie needed to be in otherwise good health before they would allow her to receive Janine’s kidney.
“No. He’s stabilizing. Physically, he’d be able to tolerate a transplant. But they took him off the list because he’s, uh, handled his treatment very irresponsibly of late. He’s missed dialysis treatments, he’s rushed through them. Taken too many risks with his life, when other candidates follow their treatment to the letter.”
“Why did he do that?”
Schaefer chuckled softly to himself, and Joe felt slightly mocked. “First, because he put so many hours into trying to find a cure for pediatric renal failure while pretending to be a gardener,” he said with more than a touch of sarcasm. “But more recently, because he’s put so many hours into trying to find your daughter.”
Joe felt chastened. “He should have taken care of himself first,” he said. “He won’t be much good to anyone else if he’s not able to do the research.”
Schaefer fingered the pen on his desk, and it was a moment before he spoke again. “Do you know what it’s like to put the needs of other people ahead of your own, Mr. Donohue?” he asked.
Joe narrowed his eyes at the verbal barb. “Yes, I do,” he said, his anger rising. “I was a good father to Sophie, damn it.”
“I don’t doubt that, and I’m sorry.” Schaefer looked suddenly contrite. “I’m stepping over the, uh, the line here,” he stammered. “It’s just that Lucas Trowell is a humanitarian who loved your daughter and your ex-wife, and who hasn’t allowed himself much happiness in his own life because he cares too much about everyone else. So, I’m impatient with any criticism of him right now. And I have the National Institutes of Health breathing down my neck because they’re hot to take the P.R.E.-5 study to a higher level, and—”
“Can you do it?” Joe asked, leaning forward in his chair. “I mean, do you understand enough about the…the formula or whatever to be able to manage the research without Lucas?”
Schaefer shook his head. “I understand the current formula,” he said. “I understand how it works. But I don’t have a clue about the theory behind it. I don’t know how to manipulate it…to, uh, tweak it, as Lucas would say. And I’m worried that Lucas will never be well enough to continue doing the research behind the scenes. So I’m in a bind, and you’re hearing my frustration.”
“I understand.” Joe stood up, still stinging a bit from the doctor’s attack on his character. He’d come to this meeting with a number of questions, but one primary purpose: to know if Schaefer could continue the study without Lucas’s help. Now he had the answer.
The red-haired nurse