by Ava Hunt
He threw on a pair of shorts and t-shirt and headed into the bathroom to splash water on his face before going out to see what Alexa had been up to.
There were four other girls in his living room. Several bottles of wine littered the glass coffee table. All five sets of eyes landed on Toby.
“Hey Toby,” one of the girls trilled. He tried to remember her name. Helen? Harriet? Nothing rang a bell. Alexa seemed to always be mad at her friends so he had trouble keeping track during her rants about them.
“Good evening, ladies.” He winked at Alexa who gave him a small smile.
“Don’t you need more rest?” Alexa asked.
“This is his house,” Megan said. She was the only one he could keep straight since her and Alexa had been friends since childhood.
“Shut up, Meg,” Alexa said and immediately laughed her comment off as a joke.
Megan’s lips twitched but said nothing.
“I’ll be out of your way, ladies,” Toby said, heading into the kitchen.
The girls went on with their conversation about some celebrity her friend Faye had been hooking up with. Maybe that was the name of the girl who spoke to him?
He was fishing through the refrigerator when his home phone rang. After two rings, Alexa called from the other room for him to answer it. No one ever called that line. He picked it up on the last ring.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Bridge—Toby? This is Dr. Martinez.”
“Oh, hi.”
“Hi. I wanted to see how you were feeling since being home.”
A loud cackle reached the kitchen and the rest of the girls chimed in.
Toby covered his free ear and crossed the kitchen to the doors to the patio. “One second.” The sticky air clung to his skin as he closed the door behind him. “I’m doing okay, considering. I slept most of the day.”
Toby caught his neighbor, Don, by the fence line, checking his tomato plants. He was a decade older than Toby and looked the part, pot-belly included. Toby waved and turned away. He didn’t need to share his business with the world just yet.
“That’s normal,” Estrella said. “These tests we run are very thorough.”
He wanted to know more about when he was getting a heart. He held his tongue knowing he was one of thousands. And there were probably people who had months or weeks to live that would be before him.
“I don’t want to take up your whole night, I always check in with my patients when they leave.”
“Gee that makes me feel special,” he joked.
She giggled on the other end. “I’ll have my office call you tomorrow to schedule your follow up.”
“Sounds good. Have a good night, Doc.”
“You as well. Get some rest.”
He hung up the phone and placed it on the metal table. He leaned on one of the matching chairs and stared into the distance. Not for the first time since the incident did he regret his no-doctor policy. It was reckless and he was paying for it. Best case scenario he had a year to live. And he didn’t want to waste that time feeling sorry for himself.
#
“I told you I couldn’t make your appointment. I’ve had this waxing on the books for months,” Alexa’s voice trilled through the phone.
Toby massaged the back of his neck, which was already sweating from the morning heat. “I didn’t know. I’ll see you later for dinner?”
There was a pause on the other line. “I have dinner with Becky tonight. Chase broke up with her and she really needs me. I’ll probably be home late.”
He walked into the brick building, the air conditioning sending a chill down his spine. “Alright, I’ll see you then.”
“Don’t wait up for me, I know you need your rest.”
He crossed the lobby to the bank of elevators. “I’ll see you when I see you then.”
“’Kayloveyoubye.” Her rushed words were barely finished before Toby felt the click through the phone.
He pushed the elevator button and waited in the empty lobby. He knew his diagnosis would be stressful on his relationship, but it was only two weeks since the hospital and Alexa was barely around. For a girl without a job, she was busy. Maybe he never noticed it before since he worked sixty-plus hours a week. Since the incident though, his boss has insisted Toby take a month off with full pay so he could relax. Instead of relaxing he was going stir-crazy. Stan was taking most of Toby’s cases so he didn’t want to bitch and moan to his best bud who was working his tail off to keep Toby’s work from slipping. Toby would be happy to get back to work sooner rather than later.
Estrella’s office was on the fifth floor. The hallway was tight, appearing to close in on him. His breathing was labored by the time he got to the office. The waiting room was a muted cream color, allowing the colorful photographs to pop from the walls. The plush leather chairs were arranged in a maze-like pattern which Toby had to navigate to get to the front desk.
The secretary held a finger up to him, flashing her smile while she concluded the conversation into her headset.
Toby took another breath, wondering how the hell he got himself into this situation. Then remembered it was his genes that got him there.
“And you are?” the woman asked in a sweet Southern accent.
“Toby Bridgewater. I’m here to see Est—Dr. Martinez.”
She flashed another smile and Toby began to think it was going to stick there permanently by the end of their conversation. “Perfect. I’m going to have you fill out these forms and I need your insurance card.”
He took the form and swapped it for his card.
“Take a seat and bring it on up when you’re finished.”
He thanked her and sat in the nearest chair. It was like sitting on a fluffy pillow, he sunk in, allowing himself to be wrapped in its comfort. He started on the forms, writing the standard information found on all medical forms. It wasn’t until the third page, which asked for a detailed description of his family’s medical history that his hands started to sweat. God, what if he had gone to the doctor more often? Would he still be here today? Maybe he should have said screw it to his health and done whatever he wanted. It probably wouldn’t have made a difference. What did his success mean if he couldn’t enjoy it when he was old and gray?
“Mr. Bridgewater?” another female asked from the doorway leading further into the office.
“That’s me.” He quickly signed the bottom of the paper and handed it to the front desk woman. He swiped his insurance card was from the desk and she smiled at him again, accepting the paperwork.
The woman who called him brought him into an exam room. After the routine weight check—he had lost a few pounds—and his vitals—blood pressure lower than normal—he was escorted to Estrella’s office and asked to take a seat.
While waiting, Toby inspected the numerous diplomas hung on the walls of her office. Not for the first time was he impressed and grateful to be in her care. He noticed that her desk was very neat. Several frames took up the space. Since they faced the other way he assumed they were family. It took most of his effort not to peek at them. He wanted something to keep his mind off waiting.
He only had to wait another few excruciating minutes until the door opened. “Toby. I hope I didn’t keep you long.”
Toby stood up and shook her hand. It was small in his, though he knew her hands had saved lives before. “Estrella. How are you?”
She took a seat across from him. “I’m well, thank you.” She opened his file on her desk. Apparently the intake form was only a formality, she had a thick folder with more than enough information from the hospital. “How are you feeling?”
Toby sat. “I feel fine. Other than thinking about dying every day.” He intended to make a joke but neither of them smiled.
She folded her hands together on the desk top. “I know this is a difficult situation to be in. And getting a heart is the first step in a long journey of recovery ahead. The patients that remain positive and healthy through this process have t
he best results.”
Toby chuckled without humor. “How do you expect me to stay positive when I can’t even make the first step in the process?”
“Your family and friends can help create the support you need.”
“Hate to break it to you Doc, but I don’t have a family.”
She tilted her head to the side. “What about your girlfriend?”
A small voice in the back of Toby’s mind asked him the same question. What about her? If he was being honest, she was the opposite of supportive. This wasn’t a therapy session though. “I have Alexa.”
“And your friend, was his name Stan?”
Toby sighed. “Stan is my best mate.”
She smiled. “You don’t need a large group of people to support you. Sometimes those few closest to you are enough.”
He pointed at the frames between them. “Do you come from a large family?”
Estrella hesitated.
“I hope that didn’t cross a line,” he said quickly.
“No.” She held up her hand. “It’s alright. Patients don’t normally ask about me.”
For some reason Toby had the urge to know more about his doctor.
“I do have a big family.” She smiled to herself. “Sometimes it’s too big.”
“Mine used to be like that,” Toby mused. “But everyone moved away and I think the last time we saw each other was at my father’s funeral.”
“That must have been tough on you,” Estrella said.
“It was,” Toby said, staring at a knot in the wood of her desk. He remembered the service like it was yesterday. It had been a bright and sunny day, almost as if someone up there was playing a cruel joke. He shook away the memory. “I want to ask about the transplant list. Is there any hope for something in the near future?”
She licked her lips. “Not at the moment. The list changes every day.”
Toby’s stomach clenched. “Did I make it higher on the list?”
“Unfortunately no.”
His hands closed into fists in his lap. They itched to push themselves into something, very hard. He spent his life making sure his father’s anger never fell to him. Now that he was dying what was the point in keeping anything back? The pent up energy buzzed in his legs and he sprung out of his chair. “I can’t believe this. What do I have to do? Do I have to pay someone off? I’ll do anything, Doc. Anything.” He leaned over her desk, staring at his reflection in her brown eyes.
“I—I don’t know what you want me to do.” Her eyes were wide and Toby realized what he’d done.
He held his hands in front of him, surrendering to the anguish in his soul. As quickly as his energy had come, it deflated from him like a forgotten balloon. He slumped in his chair, letting his head fall into his hands. “I’m sorry for that.”
“There’s no need,” Estrella’s voice came from next to him. “This is a very stressful situation. It’s how you handle it that matter.”
He looked over, unable to meet her eyes. “Can you imagine your life being flipped around like this?”
“I’ve never experienced it myself but I’ve been involved with many people who have. It’s life-changing.”
He chuckled. “No shit.”
Estrella smiled. “I would like to see you again in a few weeks. For another follow up.”
The anger in his blood turned to ice cold embarrassment. He wanted out of there. “I’ll see you then.”
Chapter Four
Leading up to the next appointment with Estrella, Toby felt each beat of his heart. Each thump was reassuring and reminded him that he was still alive. It also was a ticking clock, counting down the time he had left. The routine of falling back into work eased his racing mind for most of the day. Though sometimes he thought of what would happen next year at the same time. He kept Estrella’s mantra of staying positive in his head each time it wandered into a dark place. It helped a lot of the time and he found himself thinking about her more and more as each day passed.
He didn’t even bother to tell Alexa about the second appointment and she didn’t even ask. Where time might have fixed the gap in their relationship, the false hope has stuck a tree-sized wedge in it. Toby prayed for good news. He needed his life back. Even for a little while.
The door opened to the waiting room and Toby looked up, speechless to see Stan in the doorway.
“Hey, bud.”
Toby stood, tossing the magazine he’d been reading onto the side table. “What’re you doing here?”
Stan grinned. “I peeked at your calendar and saw this appointment. I’m here for moral support.”
Toby instantly regretted telling Stan about Estrella’s recommendation for his positive support system. Stan had been spewing that nonsense for weeks. At first Toby thought he was mocking him, but Stan was serious about doing whatever he possibly could to support his friend. Though at the end of the day, Stan and Alexa couldn’t get him a heart. To get a heart, someone with his blood type needed to die.
Stan chucked Toby in the arm. “In all seriousness, you need someone by your side in all of this.”
He knew it was a dig at Alexa, but Toby didn’t have the time or patience to get in that discussion. “Thanks, man.”
“Anytime.”
They sat on the same couch, Stan crossing his legs and leaned into the couch.
“It’s nice right?”
“Oh man, yes. I need to get one of these at home.”
Toby laughed, almost missing his name being called from across the room.
“Good luck,” Stan said. “I’ll be here when you come out.”
Toby didn’t have to ask the question that had been on his mind since he’d seen Estrella last, her expression said more than enough. He was glad Stan was in the waiting room. He needed a few minutes to process before going on another positivity streak with his friend. Though he knew it would be harder each time he was rejected.
“This really sucks.”
He was surprised that Estrella didn’t offer any more confidence boosters.
In their silence he took the time to look at her. The skin under her eyes was darker than normal and her eyes were red rimmed as if she’d been crying. They didn’t know each other well enough for her to care that much about him, so he knew something had happened to her personally.
“Is everything okay—” he said at the same time she said “Did you mean what you said last time? That you would do anything to get a heart?”
Toby sat straighter in his chair. Momentarily forgetting about his question. His bank account had been well stocked for some time. Most of the money was tied up investments but he would risk everything for his own life. “Yes, absolutely. Is there a way I can make my chances better?”
“Not on the list you’re on,” she murmured.
Toby nodded absently, turning over the Doc’s words in his mind. “What do you mean the list I’m on? There’s another list?”
Estrella’s gaze flicked to the door then back to Toby. “There is a list, per-say. It’s not the conventional path.”
“What does that mean?”
Her full lips tugged downward. “Toby, you’re a resilient man. I want to help you.”
His mind whirred. “Then help me. How do you think you can help me?”
Her eyebrows were poised, waiting for his reaction. “I can get you a heart.”
Toby clapped his hands together, his stomach felt light. “Why didn’t you say so before? What have I been waiting for?” He knew what he’d been waiting for. Someone had to die.
“Toby, listen.” Estrella lowered her voice. “What I’m talking about isn’t exactly…legal.”
“Okay,” Toby said, trying to understand. “It’s like the black market?” He’d read about biological materials being sold on the black market in the newspaper. That happened in other countries, not in America. Right?
“Sort of, yes.”
She couldn’t be serious.
Her gaze was still focused on the door as if she expec
ted someone to come barging in at any second. “I can’t get into specifics. But an opportunity came up and I need to know if you’re willing to skip the national list and take this heart.”
Toby rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Will it work? The heart I mean. Don’t get my hopes up.”
“It will definitely work. But surgery will need to take place off hours and in secret.” Her eyes finally met his as if she was daring him to say yes.
Was this his only chance to live? “Doc, what’re you getting me into?”
Estrella got up from her chair and sat in the one next to his, fixing him in her gaze. “Toby. I need you to trust me. I would never do this for someone I didn’t know it would help.”
He paused, letting it all sink in. “How sure are you that this is going to work?”
She inhaled sharply. “At my core I’m a scientist. I would say I’m 95% sure.”
He thought about the odds of him getting a heart off the list of thousands. He stared a gift horse in the mouth and like hell was he going to pass up this offer. “I’m in.”
#
The surgery was scheduled for the next night. Estrella had a skeleton crew of medical professionals. Her confidence comforted him. At least for a little while. Toby hadn’t been under anesthesia since he was nine and had his tonsils removed. That had seemed liked a different lifetime. The technology was different though the sensation of going under was terrifying. The weight of anxiety fell on him like a watered down blanket. He couldn’t grab hold of the dreams he had. They were vivid yet he forgot them the second he saw them. Most of them had a red aura and some snippets were of violence. Somehow he knew they were important.
And as quickly as they arrived, they were gone, replaced by that incessant beeping again.
Toby’s eyelids cracked open. A dim light in the corner of the room shone bright enough that he immediately closed his eyes again.
“Nurse?” Toby croaked. A tube stuck out of his mouth, impairing his ability to talk. He tried to move but his arms were splayed unnaturally at his sides.
“Mr. Bridgewater,” a man’s voice entered the space. “Relax. The surgery is over and it went very well.”