The Courage Tree - Diane Chamberlain [4]
Meadowlark Gardens was less than half a mile from the Ayr Creek estate, and the parking lot of the public gardens was as full as she’d ever seen it. As Janine turned into the lot from Beulah Road, people dressed in wedding regalia spilled out of one of the brick buildings, probably getting ready to pose for pictures. In the distance, Janine could see another wedding taking place in the gazebo by the pond. A beautiful day for a wedding, she thought, as she drove toward the southeastern corner of the lot, where she was to meet the returning Brownie troop, but her mind quickly slipped back to her daughter. Suddenly, all she could think about was scooping Sophie into her arms. She pressed her foot harder on the gas pedal, cruising far too fast through the lot, and parked her car near the corner.
Although Janine was early, one other mother was already there, leaning against a station wagon, reading a paperback. Janine knew the woman, whose name was Suzanne, vaguely. She was pretty, a bit older than most mothers of children Sophie’s age, and it was hard to tell if her chin-length hair was a pale blond or actually gray. Janine smiled as she walked toward her.
“They certainly had great weather, didn’t they?” Suzanne asked, shading her eyes from the sun.
“They did.” Janine joined her in leaning against the car. “I’m glad it wasn’t too humid.”
Suzanne tossed her paperback through the open window of her car. “Oh, that wouldn’t have bothered them,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Kids don’t care whether it’s humid or not.”
Sophie would have cared, Janine thought, but she kept the words to herself. She tried unsuccessfully to remember what Suzanne’s daughter looked like. In truth, she’d paid little attention to the other girls in Sophie’s troop. It was so rare that Sophie could take part in any of their activities that Janine had had no opportunity to get to know any of them or their mothers. She looked at Suzanne. “Has your daughter…” she began. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember her name.”
“Emily.”
“Has Emily been on one of these camp-outs before?” Janine asked.
“Yes, she has,” Suzanne said. “But none this far away. And I know this is a real first for Sophie, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” She felt somehow touched that Suzanne knew Sophie’s name. But, then, the other mothers probably talked about her.
“It’s wonderful she could go,” Suzanne said. “I guess she’s feeling better, huh?”
“Much better,” Janine admitted. So much better it was scary.
“I heard she’s receiving some sort of experimental treatment.”
“Yes.” Janine nodded, then hesitated a moment before adding, “She’s in a study of an alternative medicine. She’s only been in the study a couple of months, but she’s had some dramatic improvement. I’m just praying it will last.” It was hard for Janine to give words to Sophie’s improvement, to actually hear herself say those words out loud. She lived in terror that it might not last. Since being in the study, Sophie had not only remained out of the hospital, but had finally learned to ride a bike, had eaten almost anything she wanted, and had even attended the last of week of school. For most of the year, she’d been tutored at home or in the hospital, and last year had been equally as bad. Most indicative of Sophie’s improvement, though, was the fact that she no longer needed to spend every night attached to her dialysis machine. For the last couple of weeks, she’d required treatments only two nights a week. That had given her the freedom to do something she’d never before been able to do: spend the night away from home with her friends.
Sophie’s astonishing improvement seemed miraculous, although Dr. Schaefer, the researcher behind the study, had warned Janine that her daughter still had a long road ahead of her. She would need to receive twice-weekly intravenous infusions of Herbalina, the name he had given his herbal remedy to make it more appealing to the pediatric