Every Last Beat

by Nicole S. Goodin

  “Bet I can call her a bitch now, huh, Mum?”

  She points to me with a ‘don’t mess with me’ finger at the same moment that whoever she’s calling answers the phone.

  “Yes, hi, Mr. Filby, this is Linda Reynolds…”

  Her voice fades out as she leaves the room and shuts the door behind her.

  Mr. Filby might have been a complete ass to me today by not giving me the opportunity to explain myself, but I actually feel a little bit sorry for him right now.

  My mother is a firm believer in justice and fair play and she won’t stop until she gets it.

  It’s one of the qualities that makes her such a great nurse – her sense of equality, and right and wrong means that she’ll fight for as long as it takes for her patients to get what they need.

  She’ll go to great lengths for someone she doesn’t even know, and I swear she’ll literally go to the ends of the earth for the people she loves.

  That unequivocally includes Violet.

  She’s my sister in all the ways that count, and she’s been treated as a member of our family since the day she first turned up.

  I know that Mum will fight as hard for Violet as she would if it were me that had been treated like this.

  I’ll fight hard too. No one speaks like that about my best friend and gets away with it.

  Julia was lucky I didn’t do more than call her names.

  The look on Violet’s face when they giggled and laughed and made fun of her is a look I’ll never, ever forget.

  The hurt I saw in her eyes will stay with me for the rest of my life.

  Girls like Julia, they’re the reason Violet feels like she needs to hide herself and who she is.

  Girls like that, the type who can’t see past a few marks on a person’s skin, they’re exactly the reason that Violet won’t wear a bikini or a top that shows even a little bit of the scar on her chest.

  They’re the kind of girls that look for trouble where there is none. But they found trouble this time, that’s for sure.

  They might not have known that Letty and I were still in the changing room, but that’s no excuse.

  In fact, it might be worse. They didn’t even have the nerve to say those things to her face – instead they talked about her behind her back.

  Then there’s the fact that they were totally wrong. Violet is no freak – she’s more beautiful than all those girls put together.

  If I had to take a guess, I’d say that Julia was jealous of Violet. Julia is planning to go and study art next year, and don’t get me wrong, she is a good painter. She rates herself as one of the best in our school, but no one is as good as Violet – not even close. To be honest, I think she’s even better than Mrs. Barkley, our art teacher.

  Jealously can be an evil creature and when that group of girls had sneered those hurtful names and then told me to get lost, the jealously had been plain to see.

  It breaks my heart. I know that Violet would befriend literally anyone that was genuinely kind to her – she’s just that type of person. She’s not bothered by things like age, gender, race or ability.

  She’d do anything for her friends and if Julia wanted to be one of them, she would be – no questions asked.

  But instead she’s chosen to be a bully.

  It’s sad really – for Julia and her little gang of followers more so than anybody else. They’re missing out on knowing the best person I’ve ever met, and that is their loss.

  Those girls are part of the reason Violet considers me to be her only ‘real’ friend and they’re also to blame for Violet thinking that people are out to embarrass her.

  Mum strides back into the room, phone still in her hand and a pissed-off expression still firmly on her face. “We’ll discuss this on Monday, Trevor, I’ll see you at nine A.M.”

  Oh heck, she’s moved onto first name basis now, which means she’s really angry.

  I bet Mr. Filby will be regretting the moment he decided to rat me out to my mum.

  She hangs up the phone and I watch her take three deep breaths.

  “Right, what are you waiting for, let’s go,” she announces finally.

  “Are we going to throw eggs at Julia’s house?” I answer hopefully as I jump out of my seat.

  “Nope.” She reaches into the cupboard and pulls out a bottle of red wine. “We’re going over to the Miller’s.”

  “Can I ask you again about the eggs after you’ve had a couple glasses of that?” I reply optimistically.

  “You could try.”

  I grin. “Should I bring the toilet paper? We could TP her house?”

  Mum laughs then, and some of the tension in her shoulders disappears.

  She slings her arm around me and kisses the top of my head. “I’m sorry I doubted you. You’re a good friend. Violet is lucky to have you.”

  My heart warms at her words, but I know I’m not the only lucky one; Vi would do anything for me too.

  “You’re just happy I didn’t punch Julia, right?”

  She mumbles something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like ‘she would have deserved it’, before ushering me out of the house.

  “C’mon let’s go visit our friends and see if we can’t get me drunk enough to throw some eggs.”

  God, I really do love my mother.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Violet

  Present day

  There’s one birthday in particular over the years that stands out to me more than any other. I was ten years old and I was finally allowed to have a party with the kids from my school.

  Every birthday I’ve ever had has been celebrated fiercely by my family – I know it’s because no one’s ever been sure if I was going to get another one the following year, and I’m grateful for the attention, cake and ridiculous amount of gifts I received.

  But if there was one thing I missed it was handing out invitations in class like all the other kids.

  When I was younger I remember thinking that Mum and Dad were just being mean by not letting me have a big party every year like my classmates did, but now I realise it’s because they didn’t want me to be the kid that had no one turn up.

  I missed a lot of school back then. Every time my class was hit with a bout of germs or bugs; it took me twice as long to get over it – sometimes when something was doing the rounds, Mum would pull me out and keep me at home as a precaution so there was no extra risk to my heart.

  As a result of missing so much school, I didn’t make that many close friends. I had Lucy, of course, and she had friends who were nice to me, but I always felt like they were always Lucy’s friends, not mine.

  Sometimes when I think back I wonder if I made it out to be something more than it was. Deciding that people don’t want to know me before they’ve been given a chance is something I’ve been doing my whole life.

  I guess I’ll never know which of the two it was, but either way, it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve never been the popular kid and now I’m past the point of caring about having a lot of friends – I’d rather have one good one than ten mediocre ones.

  But this one particular year however, I must have been feeling brave, because I invited every single person in my class.

  I doubt any of them can recall even one thing about my party, but I sure can… and maybe being brave is what I need to do more of, because, despite my worry, they all came. I laughed, had fun and felt normal… and back then, it was probably one of the best days of my life.

  I smile at the memory as I sit here, in my hospital room on the day that I turn yet another year older, surrounded by the people I love the most in the world and I think about being brave like I was eleven years ago and vow that tomorrow I’ll try to be more courageous.

  I stare at the flames and smile before blowing out the candles.

  I might not have that much to be happy about this year – spending your twenty-second birthday in a hospital room isn’t exactly my idea of a good time. Spending Christmas wasn’t any bett
er, but at least today I get to make a wish.

  I don’t have to think long or hard about what to wish for this year.

  I know exactly what I want and although it’s not a new heart I’m wishing for, at the same time I sort of am.

  I’m being sneaky and trying to kill two birds with one stone.

  I wish that I’ll get to meet the man with the blue eyes, and given that I’m not in the best of shape, I figure I’m going to have to get my new heart first… in fact, I’m counting on it.

  I can’t see that fate would be cruel enough to save me then, only to take me now, but with every day that passes, I can feel my hopes slipping, and the slope feels far too steep for them to climb back up again.

  ***

  There’s a light knock at my door and I look up from my book in surprise. Everyone has been gone a while now and I wasn’t expecting any more visitors.

  Dr. White appears in the doorway looking fresh and bright eyed. She must be starting her nightshift.

  “Come in.” I smile at her.

  She’s not my regular cardiologist, but ever since she saved my life she’s sort of taken over the duties. I like her better than the grumpy old guy I got assigned after I switched from child to adult care, so I’m certainly not complaining, and it gives Dr. Ellis some breathing room from my mum – so I figure it’s a win for everyone involved.

  “I bought you a present.”

  I frown at her because frankly, I’m confused – she’s not holding anything and it’s certainly not normal for a doctor to be buying gifts for their patients.

  “You can’t open it, but I think you’ll like it all the same.” She smiles as she walks towards me.

  “Okay…”

  I’m not sure where this conversation is heading, but I can’t help thinking back with hope to the wish I made only a few hours ago.

  “You’re next on the list, Violet, if there’s a heart available within a four-hour window that’s compatible with you, it’s yours.”

  I don’t want to cry, but I can feel it’s going to happen anyway.

  This is a big development for me. I’m next. I’ve been waiting what feels like forever for this news.

  I don’t know what to say. I’m at a total loss for words.

  I hope to God that any people ahead of me have received hearts and not passed away instead. I consider asking her but think better of it. I won’t sleep well tonight as it is. I don’t need to be brewing up new worries to concern myself with at two in the morning.

  “It’s my turn?” I croak. My voice has momentarily got caught in my throat.

  “That’s right.”

  I know I’ve got a real chance now. The possibility that I’ll get to live outside of this hospital room and be free of all these wires and tubes is suddenly so much more real.

  I know there’s still a lot of factors that have to fall into place, and a ton of criteria that needs to be met in order for me to actually get a heart, but it’s one step closer and that’s the best I can hope for right now.

  Just one step at a time…

  I’m well aware that I’ve probably been bumped up a few places on the list. My condition is deteriorating and we all know it – It’s no secret that I can’t stay on this machine forever… and my time is running out.

  “You know, Violet.” She sits down on the end of my bed as she speaks. “I’ve seen a lot of patients in my eight years here, but I’ve never met one with quite as much spirit as you’ve got. I’ve got a good feeling about you – I know better than to make promises, but I really do think we’ll find you the heart you need.”

  I know she doesn’t say this to all her patients, so I’m grateful she’s here saying it to me. She’s a lovely woman and I know I’m lucky to have her on my side.

  “It’s the universal recipient blood type that’s got you so convinced, isn’t it?” I tease, referring to the conversation we had all those years ago. I doubt she’ll remember, but she smiles at me and winks like it’s our own little private joke.

  She stands up and heads for the door. “The blood type certainly won’t hurt, but it’s more than that… you’re destined for great things, Violet. We can all see it.”

  She leaves me alone in the room contemplating her words. She’s not as black and white in her thinking as the other doctors. She allows a bit more of her personality to shine through – and she’s optimistic, which is something I think others in her field are afraid to be.

  She’s exactly what I need to keep my spirits up.

  There’s so much I want to do with my life. I’ve tried not to dwell on it too much during this hospital stay because I’m not sure if I’ll ever actually make it out of here alive, but I know I need to stop thinking like that. I’ll never make it through if I have nothing to strive for.

  I’m filled with hopes, dreams and aspirations for myself and it’s time I allowed myself to believe I have the potential to achieve every single one of them.

  There’s only one thing I can think of doing now that will soothe my soul, and that’s painting.

  I’ve never loved my brother as much as I did when I saw him coming through my door carrying some of my art supplies.

  I wasn’t even a little bit mad at him for getting into my studio, I was just grateful.

  Grateful that he cared enough to do this for me, and in awe that he knows me well enough to see I was struggling big time without my outlet.

  I buzz for the nurse and have her set me up with a fresh sheet of paper, and sit all of my paints close enough for me to reach.

  I should probably be sleeping seeing as I’m going onto the external VAD tomorrow, and I don’t know how that’s going to feel, but I’m strangely keyed up.

  I’ve got all sorts of feelings bustling through my mind and body, and the only way I know how to deal with that is to put a brush to paper.

  So that’s what I do.

  I pour my heart and soul into my work – the same way I always have. It’s the only way I know to rid my mind and body of thoughts and feelings.

  Some people talk, others write… and me… I paint.

  Hours later, when I finally set down the brush in my hand and it’s well and truly dark outside, I decide that this one I’ll call ‘opportunity’.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Violet

  Present day

  There’s a certain vibe in the ward today that I can’t seem to put my finger on. It’s a bit like hope laced with an air of despair.

  I don’t know what to make of it, or what it means, but I feel it.

  It’s got me so on edge I can’t do anything even remotely constructive.

  I can’t focus on my book, I can’t sleep, and the TV show that’s been on for the past half hour may as well be in Japanese for all I’ve understood of it.

  There’s a saying, where if someone is talking about you, your ears burn…

  Well, that’s how this feels.

  My ears are figuratively burning hot right now.

  I just know I’m being talked about.

  Nurses and doctors I’ve never seen before have been popping into my room, checking my chart, and asking me somewhat strange questions.

  No one has brought me any food this morning, and even though I’m not eating much at the moment, I’m still curious as to why.

  The only thing keeping me from losing my shit entirely is the fact Mum will be here in a few minutes, like she is every other morning, and I know she’ll straighten this out for me.

  There’s probably nothing at all going on, I’ve probably dreamed the whole thing up – I’ve always assumed people were talking about me and judging me, but lately it’s been worse than ever. I swear it’s being in this place for so long that has made me so paranoid.

  I lean to the side, trying to watch what’s happening outside my window. I’m not sure why I’m bothering, I don’t know what I expect to see. They’re hardly going to be putting up a big neon sign that flashes the word ‘dying’ outside of my door.

&
nbsp; I’m not even being dramatic this time. I know things are getting bad for me, I look like absolute crap and my oxygen saturation levels are dropping lower and lower by the day. I’m tired all the time, yet I never seem to be able to get any restful sleep.

  Maybe that’s what this is – maybe I’m really going to die soon.

  Rationally, I know that they’re not just going to leave me here to die – we had a plan… if a heart didn’t come in time, I’d have to get the long-term VAD. The only thing I can think of is that they’ve left it too long – that perhaps I’m not strong enough for plan B anymore. Maybe that ship has sailed.

  I can see one of the regular nurses, Jackie, out at the nurse’s station, she’s got her back to me, but when she turns, it’s plain as day that she’s been crying.

  It’s not just a stray tear or two either, it’s big, fat, ugly ones and her eyes are so red and puffy I’m not sure she’ll even be able to see the computer screen in front of her.

  I’m still staring at the upset woman when my mum breezes into the room, but I don’t so much as glance at her. I can’t pull my eyes from the tear-stained cheeks of the middle-aged nurse who has been so kind to me these past months.

  I assume it’s me she’s crying over – that I’m dying, and she’s upset.

  This is what I’ve always been afraid of – the amount of people I’ll take down with me when I go… it’s the ticking time bomb feeling all over again.

  Mum is rambling about something so unimportant that I can’t even make sense of it.

  “Violet!” she calls loudly.

  I snap out of my trance and turn so I’m looking directly at her.

  She glances between my face and the window I was looking out of. “What on earth is going on?”

  “I’m dying, Mum, that’s what’s going on.”

  ***

  I can hear Mum. She’s not yelling, but her voice is right on the cusp of it. She’s talking loudly, and her tone has that slight element of terror that gives the distinct impression that she’s anything but pleased.