by Leta Blake
Grant made a noise of agreement.
“No matter what. Leo will get that kidney if I have to harvest it my own damn self.”
“Same, Marie,” Grant said softly. “Same.”
• • •
Present
Grant pulled a chair up next to Leo’s bed in the recovery room. He watched Leo’s heart rate beep on the monitor, steady and regular, and then he let himself really look at Leo’s sleeping face. They’d removed the oxygen mask; he was still puffy from the surgery, but the bag attached to the catheter showed that Hannah’s harvested kidney was working, producing urine well, and in copious amounts, which was good.
“Hey,” Grant said softly. He had become one of those people who stood by their unconscious loved one’s bed and talked to them. But he had to make sure Leo knew how important he was to Grant, and to Lucky. So he’d know that he had to make it through this.
“Hey,” Grant started again. “Leo, you better get your ass in gear and get better, because I…” His voice cracked a little, and he cleared his throat, looking over his shoulder to make sure he was still alone. “I need you. I love you. So, I’m counting on you. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave Lucky.”
Grant wiped at his face quickly when he heard footsteps, and Dennis stepped between the curtains to put his hand on Grant’s shoulder. “Listen, the tests are looking really good, okay? Dr. Gregor’s landing shortly, but, Grant, I think he’s already fighting this thing. We might not even need her.”
Grant nodded, wiped at his nose, and kept his eyes on Leo.
Dennis sighed, squeezed Grant’s shoulder, and said, “Come on, you can’t do anything for him right now, and you need to calm down. Let’s get out of the hospital. Alec can take you—”
Grant shook Dennis’ hand off. “No,” he said. “I’ll be here. At the hospital. Until Dr. Gregor gets here and I hear what she has to say.”
Dennis loosed a sound of frustration and said, “Grant, what about Lucky? She really needs you now.”
Grant closed his eyes. He put his hand in Leo’s unresponsive fingers and swallowed. “She’s with Chuck and Meryl. It’s fine.”
“Come with me, buddy. We both know that for whatever reason the person Lucky most trusts in this world is you. She needs you right now. Leo wanted that.”
“Wants that,” Grant said. No one would talk about Leo in the past tense. Not now, not with things still so touch and go.
“Exactly,” Dennis said. “So, get your act together, and go be the person that kid needs.”
Leo’s eyes were swollen and ringed in blue, and his fingers warm and pliable in Grant’s hand. His lips were dry and slightly open, but he was breathing, and his new kidney was working. The seizing had stopped, and if Dennis was right then it was possible that the meds they’d already pushed were making headway with the infection.
“Give me a minute,” Grant said.
Dennis crossed his arms over his chest, but moved behind the curtain, leaving Grant as alone as he could be right now with Leo.
Grant leaned over and kissed the stubble along Leo’s cheek, and whispered, “You left me once. You can’t do that to me again.” Grant ran his hand through Leo’s hair, kissed his cheek again, and said, “You’re needed, Leo. Kick this infection’s ass and come back to us.”
He pushed away, rubbed his hands over his face, and left the room with a defiant glare at Dennis, avoiding the empathetic gaze every nurse and doctor seemed to be trying to send his way.
He was in love and scared. He didn’t need their googly eyes gazing at him. What he needed was Leo, and unless they could provide him with that, he wasn’t interested in what they had to offer.
Chapter Eighteen
Grant and Lucky played endless games of chess, mostly in silence, with little instruction going on at all. When Lucky lost, Grant didn’t explain to her why, or how she could’ve prolonged the inevitable, but just cleared the board and started over. Neither of them wanted to talk.
Meryl paced the room like a caged bear, fretting and worrying, and asking all kinds of questions that Grant wouldn’t answer, until Chuck reminded her, “Honey, Grant’s hurting too. Leave him be for a while, okay.”
“But he’s just playing chess.”
Lucky had turned to her then and said, “No, he’s waiting, and he’s scared like me. He loves Daddy.”
Grant put his hand on her head. She didn’t need to defend him, even if her furious little face did warm his heart. “Meryl, I assure you, I’ve told you everything I know. I’m waiting, just like you’re waiting.”
Chuck put his arm around Meryl and led her toward the couch. An hour later, she finally came back over and put her hand on Grant’s shoulder, saying, “I’m sorry. I know you care about him.”
Care about him. Grant had almost laughed. It was the biggest understatement he’d ever heard. Care about Leo? Leo was his safe place, his everything. His love for Leo was a once in a lifetime thing. It wouldn’t fluctuate and it wouldn’t fade. So, no, he didn’t care for Leo. What he felt was so much more.
At that point, Lucky had abandoned her seat beside him to wrap her arms around his waist and bury her face in his chest, breathing slowly, clinging and worried. Grant patted her arm and she relaxed a little against him.
Dr. Gregor appeared several hours later, harried and frowning. Grant hefted Lucky up, standing as Dr. Gregor entered.
“And?” he asked. “Did you see the test results? What’s the—”
“Dr. Anderson,” she cut him off. “Are these the patient’s next of kin?”
Meryl and Chuck stood up. “We’re his parents, yes.”
She turned her focus onto them. “Well, it’s not the best news. I’ve seen the latest tests and examined the patient. As I said, it’s not good. I’ve confirmed that it’s progressive multifocal leukoencephalopathy, a rare brain infection that occurs mostly in patients who have been on immunosuppressants for an extended period of time. It’s often fatal. I should warn you in advance, this is a difficult diagnosis.”
Grant was washed in cold, and he held Lucky tighter. He stared at Dr. Gregor, waiting for her to tell them more.
“The good news is that I’ve had success fighting this virus. There’s a new protocol that I’m willing to try. I had a good outcome with my last PML patient. Methfloquine,” she said.
“An anti-malarial drug,” Grant said.
“Yes, this past June we reversed the virus in a case much worse than Leo’s using methfloquine,” she said.
Hearing Dr. Gregor use Leo’s name for the first time, like he was a person, not a thing, made Grant’s stomach relax a little, and he nodded and swallowed. “Do it then,” Grant said.
Dr. Gregor looked to Chuck and Meryl. “It’s not Dr. Anderson’s call.”
“Whatever you can do to save our son,” Meryl said, gripping Chuck’s hand on her shoulder.
Lucky clutched Grant’s neck harder at Meryl’s words, and Grant held her a little tighter. He took a breath and closed his eyes, terrified that he’d accidentally told Lucky a lie. And if he had…if he lost Leo now…what would that do to him, to her, to both of them? He opened his eyes and glared at Dr. Gregor, willing her to fix this.
“All right,” Dr. Gregor said. “We’ll know by the morning if the treatment is working. I’ll start it right away.”
Lucky whispered against Grant’s ear, “Don’t leave me. Promise. Don’t leave.”
Grant said nothing, rubbing her back, and sat down with her on his lap. It was going to be a long night.
• • •
At about two in the morning, Grant put a sleeping Lucky down on the sofa in his office and turned to Chuck, who was standing by his open office door.
Chuck beckoned Grant closer and said, “Thank you for being with Lucky. She needs you right now. Listen, I, uh, was thinking. Someone should let Curtis know about this.”
“Why?” Grant asked. “He’s filming in Scotland. There’s nothing he can do. By tomorrow morning we might have word that
there’s no reason for Curtis to catch a flight, or cancel production, or whatever it is he might do in a hurry so that he can feel like a hero.”
Chuck looked at Grant and said, “Son, I understand that things between you and Curtis are tense at best. But he was part of Leo’s life for a very long time. He deserves to know. I can call him, or Meryl can. Someone’s going to let him know, though. It’ll be morning there soon enough.”
Grant grimaced and rubbed a hand through his hair. “Why bother telling me? I can’t stop you.”
He turned back to Lucky and sat down at the foot of the couch; there was just enough room. He studied at her sleeping face, her limp body, and sighed. He looked back toward the door to find that Chuck had left, probably to go call Curtis, and Grant sighed again. Even if the experimental protocol managed to work, Curtis always added so much drama to Leo’s life. It wasn’t healthy, and it wasn’t what Leo needed right now. But Grant would fight that battle later when Curtis was actually here. He’d have him banned from Leo’s room if he needed to. He’d do whatever it took for Leo to get well.
It was quite early in the morning in Scotland. Grant supposed if Curtis caught a flight as soon as possible, he could be in Blountville by the following day. One thing was for sure, if they made it through this, he was going to talk to Leo about setting up some paperwork giving him power of attorney over Leo’s health care and vice versa. Assuming Leo would want that. He knew he did.
He sighed again, glanced at Lucky, and thought about her trip to Scotland with Curtis earlier in the month. She’d been reluctant to go, and she hadn’t even been gone a week when she’d called home one night and begged Leo to come get her.
It wasn’t surprising to Grant that Lucky hadn’t handled the separation well. Grant knew how attached Lucky was to Leo, and, over the last few months, she’d grown habituated to Grant, too. Lucky was like Leo in more than just her looks—she was loyal, and devoted to her home and family—but, she was different in the way she expressed those things. No, Grant hadn’t been surprised at all that Scotland had been a bust.
In the end, Curtis had brought her home, and he’d even been unexpectedly relaxed about it, given that his time with her was thwarted. Leo said he’d grown up. Grant speculated that taking care of Lucky on his own while trying to star in a film in another country had been more of a pain in the ass than Curtis had thought it would be. In the end, Lucky’s version of events made Grant think he was right.
Now, Grant watched Lucky sleep and stared at the clock. The hours went by slowly and he swallowed back fear over and over. He’d never felt this way before. After he’d left his aunt and uncle’s home, he’d never put himself in a position again where he couldn’t win.
Now, though, he was in love. And it wasn’t just Leo who had a hold on him, but Lucky and her little earnest face and her deep need for someone to trust. Every moment, every second, it became clearer that he needed them in his life, and he didn’t trust anyone else with their well-being.
He looked at the clock. Only six more hours and they should know something. Six more hours of hell. He felt suspended in time, as though each second were longer than he ever imagined possible. He’d never been so helpless.
When this was over, Grant decided, he was going to do something about all of this. He was going to get back some control. He was going to ask Leo to make this thing between them legal. In the common vernacular, he supposed, he was going to ask Leo to marry him.
Grant didn’t sleep. He watched the clock and when it said eight in the morning, he waited, and he waited. Lucky dreamed on, and he didn’t wake her. He waited some more.
When Chuck finally showed up at Grant’s office door, grinning and giving him a thumbs up, the rush and whirl in Grant’s ears was so loud that he couldn’t hear over it. He stared into Chuck’s eyes, trying to make sure he understood correctly.
“He’s going to be all right. It’s working. The treatment is working,” Chuck said. He hugged him, and Grant hugged the man in return. Chuck thumped Grant’s back hard over and over, saying, “He’ll make it. He’s gonna make it.”
Grant nodded and let out a long breath. He swallowed, rubbed at his eyes, and then he looked down at Lucky. She would probably wake at any moment.
Heart in his throat, Grant said to Chuck, “Watch Lucky.”
Then he rushed from his office. He passed Alec and Dennis hugging in the hallway, and when they called out to him happily, he ignored them, heading directly toward the ICU.
Because he wasn’t going to tell Lucky another damn thing until he’d seen Leo and talked to Dr. Gregor herself. It’d been too close. Too close, and he had to know for sure before he renewed his promise to Lucky that Leo would be okay.
He’d been an imbecile, a cocky, terrified, son of a bitch to make a promise like that to begin with. They’d been lucky. Damned lucky.
Now they needed to stay lucky.
Chapter Nineteen
A Week Later
Chuck and Meryl were late picking up Lucky from Grant in the hospital cafeteria after they’d spent most of the day going back and forth between Leo’s hospital room, and Hannah’s new set-up in the rehab unit. The unit was not the best in the state, but Leo, Hannah, and their parents seemed to believe that Hannah would have better success getting off to a clean, new start if she remained in Blountville.
Lucky was still anxious about her mother, though, and she told Grant while they ate together that she didn’t want to see Hannah. At least not yet.
“I don’t have to like her now, do I?” Lucky asked him, sipping her chocolate milk and gazing at him with her clear eyes.
“Nah,” Grant said. “Why should you like her? You don’t even know her.”
Lucky picked at her green beans and shrugged, not meeting his gaze.
“Who said you had to like her?” Grant asked.
Lucky bit the end off a green bean and chewed it for a long time before saying, “Denise at school says that everyone loves their mommy. That they have to love their mommy. She says it’s just the way it is.”
Grant snarled up his lip and said, “Is Denise a psychologist?”
Lucky laughed. “No, she’s five. She’s the line leader on every other Monday, though.”
“So, who are you going to believe? Me or a line leader? She’s not even line leader every Monday.”
Lucky grinned and took another bite of her food. “Sometimes I’m line leader,” she said. “On every other Wednesday.”
“Cool,” Grant said.
Lucky sighed. “So, it’s okay then, if I don’t love Hannah?”
“Seems okay to me,” Grant said, stealing one of Lucky’s fries because he’d already finished his own.
“Dad will be sad that I don’t love her, though,” Lucky said.
“Your dad will understand,” Grant said. “Love isn’t something that you feel because you’re supposed to.” Grant sat back in his seat. “It’s not something you control. Sometimes you even feel it when you shouldn’t. Or when you don’t want to.”
“Why wouldn’t you want to?” Lucky asked.
Grant thought about Leo in the OR seizing on the table and the terror that had ripped through him, and he thought of Leo pale, gray, and puffy in the recovery room, and he thought of Leo’s gray eyes crinkled in laughter, and his smile that made Grant’s stomach flip, and the desperate way that Leo clung to him in bed, and the expression on Leo’s face when he came.
“Beats the hell outta me,” Grant said, though it scared the pants off him even still.
“I wish I loved my mom,” Lucky said. “But I don’t.”
“Your dad would probably say to give her a chance,” he said.
“Do you think I should give her a chance, Dr. Grant?” Lucky asked, all earnest eyes and worried face.
“I say wait it out. See if she sticks around.”
Lucky nodded and looked thoughtful as she ate the last of her fries and started to unwrap the cookie. “Yeah, that’s a good plan,” she said. “And
Denise is stupid. She doesn’t even know her multiplication tables.”
“Oh, well, in that case, never listen to a word she says,” Grant muttered.
“But Granny Meryl says that she’s only five and most five-year-olds don’t know that yet.”
“It’s never too early to start with intellectual snobbery.”
Lucky gave him a look that made Grant smile. It was a look he’d seen on Leo before. It said very clearly, “You’re full of shit.”
Grant liked that Lucky already knew when that look was appropriate and he said, “Give me part of your cookie.”
“No!” she said. “It’s not yours!”
“Give me,” he said waggling fingers at her.
She laughed and took a huge bite and shook her head. Grant sighed mournfully and sat back to watch her eat it.
A few minutes later, after Lucky had devoured her cookie, Chuck and Meryl finally showed up looking anxious and tired.
“How’s my girl?” Chuck asked, hefting Lucky up and hugging her close.
“I see Grant has fed you dinner already,” Meryl said, wrapping her arm through Chuck’s, and smiling warmly.
“Green beans, French fries, and a cookie,” Lucky said.
“Healthy,” Meryl said, raising an eyebrow at Grant, but her eyes were full of good humor.
Grant shrugged, picked up his tray, and said, “I’ve got rounds.”
“So late?” Meryl asked.
“Yep, well, I had a little company this afternoon.” He narrowed his eyes fondly at Lucky and winked at her.
“Dr. Grant’s patients get mad when he brings me with him,” Lucky said.
“You took her on some of your rounds?” Meryl sounded a lot like Leo.
Grant shrugged. “Only the boring ones. I could do those with my eyes shut.”
“That’s what he told them,” Lucky said.
Grant winked at her again and headed out of the cafeteria, leaving Lucky with Chuck and Meryl. He wasn’t sure where they would take her for the night, but either way she was sorted, and now he only had to see a few patients, and then he could go to Leo.