The Courage Tree - Diane Chamberlain [54]
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry for.” He brushed a blade of grass from the blue splint on his wrist. “Is it something you can talk about? Can you tell me what her problem is?”
“It’s her kidneys. She has a rare disease that usually only affects boys this seriously, but somehow, she was unlucky. She developed it when she was three, and it’s just gotten worse.”
“Would a transplant help?”
“I gave her one of my kidneys when her symptoms got bad enough, but she rejected it.” She bit her lip and looked toward the kitchen. Through the now empty pane of the back door, she could see the woods closing in on the cottage. “She’s been through so much. She has dialysis every night, and—”
“Peritoneal?” he asked, surprising her. Most people didn’t know that dialysis could be performed at home, using the membrane in the abdomen as the filter for the blood.
“Yes,” she said. “We have the machine here in her bedroom.”
“How has she done with it?”
“It’s not holding her,” she answered, and her voice caught in her throat. “This morning her doctor told me there isn’t anything else they can do for her. He said flat out that she probably has less than a year left.”
Lucas shook his head very slowly. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “What terrible news.”
“It wasn’t really news.” Janine sighed. “Just a confirmation of what I’ve known would happen if she didn’t turn around with the latest treatment they’ve had her on. Now I have to call her father and tell him.”
“Is he very close to her?”
“Yes. He’s been a much better dad than he ever was a husband.” She smiled weakly, regretting instantly that she’d criticized Joe to this stranger.
“Isn’t most kidney disease inherited?” he asked.
“Some, yes, but not all. The type she has usually is, but there isn’t any of it in my family. We really don’t know much about Joe’s roots, because he’s never had contact with his mother’s side of his family—she left him when he was little. His father’s dead, but there were no kidney problems on his side that we know of, although we really aren’t close to them.” She took a swallow of the lemonade, but found it hard to swallow, and she set the glass down on the end table. “Actually, I don’t think Sophie inherited it.”
“What do you mean?” Lucas asked.
“Do you know about Gulf War Illness?” she asked.
“Well, I know that some of the soldiers who fought in the Persian Gulf think they contracted something while they were there. Is that what you mean?”
“Yes. And some of them are producing children with medical problems.”
Lucas looked confused. “I’m not sure I’m following you. Was Sophie’s father in the military? Did he fight in Desert Storm?”
She shook her head. “No,” she said. “But I did.”
He looked surprised. “You’re kidding. What branch of the military were you in?”
“Army Reserves,” she said. “I flew a helicopter in the Gulf.”
“Well.” He smiled. “I have to say I’m impressed.”
“There’s nothing impressive about it,” she said. “It was a selfish decision on my part. I wanted to learn to fly, the reserves seemed like an easy way to do it. But it took me away from Joe for long periods of time. And ultimately—” she lowered her voice “—I’m afraid it’s going to cost my daughter her life.”
“You mean…you think you picked up something over there that caused you to give Sophie her kidney problems?”
“Yes. I don’t have any symptoms myself, but I got pregnant with Sophie right after I returned from the Gulf. It fits.”
He shook his head, almost violently. “No, it doesn’t fit. Those kids have deformities, not renal disease.”
“Not just deformities. I’ve heard of other diseases appearing in the children of Gulf War soldiers.”
“But diseases appear in kids no matter what.”
She felt herself sink deeper into her chair, deeper into her gloom. “I’d like to believe you, but I don’t. I blame myself for what’s happening to Sophie. My parents blame me. And so does Joe. He never says as much, but—”
Lucas stood up from the sofa and walked over to her.