Nick reached down and engulfed her hand in his.
The dim light from the medical equipment surrounding Joshua’s bed illuminated Nick. She could see the light stubble of a new beard roughening his strong jaw. He was wearing a worn pair of Levi’s, a T-shirt, and his leather jacket. And even though she knew those were the same clothes he’d had on for nearly twenty-four hours, he looked unaffected and in total control. His cologne, subtle and masculine, had her remembering a night not so long ago when he’d also offered her comfort and compassion. But then, in the morning, when daylight had come, so had reality. It had been a harsh reminder that what Nick offered came with a timer.
She looked down to their entwined hands and felt her resolve start to weaken. But old fears were too hard to dispel. She couldn’t afford to place her heart in Nick’s hands again. She’d done that once already and it had taken her nearly a lifetime to get it back. But there was something she could do. Needed to do. Slowly, hesitantly, she turned to Nick. “I’m sorry.” She said it again, just so she could be sure he heard her. “I’m sorry for not doing everything in my power to find you and tell you about the children. They have a right to know you.”
“I’m sorry, too. And I meant what I said: I want us to try to be a family, Hope.”
His words made her heart all thumpy and soft and had her wishing for a future she knew she could never have. “I know you’ll be there for the kids. I see that now.”
It was an evasive answer. She knew it and so did Nick. She saw he wanted to say something, but the door into Joshua’s room opened and Dr. Parker walked in.
“Ms. Thompson? Ah, and Mr. Fortune. Good, you’re both here. Could you please follow me? There’s something we need to discuss.”
They followed Dr. Parker down the bright hall and into a small office. Once in, he shut the door behind them and then went around to the front of the desk and took his seat, gesturing for Hope and Nick to take the seats across from him.
Nick pulled out one of the chairs for Hope and waited until she had sat down before taking his seat next to her.
The doctor started right in. “I was going to wait until the results came back from the additional blood work I ordered, but after last night . . .” His voice trailed off and she knew what they were all thinking. Joshua was losing hope.
Dr. Parker leaned forward and placed his elbows on his desk. A broad smile crossed his face. “I believe we’ve found a donor.”
Joy—undulating, unrestricted—poured through her. A donor! It was what they’d all been praying so hard for. Nothing could stop the feeling of pure happiness that bolted inside her. Nick’s hand closed over hers and when she looked over at him, the same emotions she was feeling were reflected in his eyes. “Say it again,” she asked the doctor, wanting to make sure this wasn’t a dream. “Please, tell me again.”
Dr. Parker smiled. “We’ve found a donor and she looks to be a perfect match.”
A perfect match. It was a miracle!
Hope knew from earlier conversations with the doctors and from her own extensive research that in a bone marrow transplant a perfect match was one in which all six HLA antigens matched. It was too incredible for words.
“As you know,” the doctor continued, “this is very good news. With a perfect match, Joshua’s odds of developing GVHD have just been significantly reduced.”
“GVHD?” Nick asked.
“Graft-versus-host disease. In cases where the donor is not a perfect six-antigen match, the recipient’s odds increase for developing graft-versus-host, a disease where the transplanted marrow attacks the patient’s organs.”
“When will the transplant take place?” Hope asked the doctor.
“If everything goes as planned, in one week.”
One week. She could hardly believe it.
“As you know,” Dr. Parker continued, “there were a few minor complications from Joshua leaving the hospital. We’ll need to get his infection under control and then begin conditioning.”
Nick leaned forward in his chair but didn’t let go of her hand. At first she’d thought he was offering her support, but when she looked over to him again, she thought maybe he needed her as much as she needed him at this moment. “That is where his chemotherapy and radiation treatments are increased, right?” Nick asked.
“Yes.” The doctor nodded. “We need to eradicate all the remaining cancer cells in Joshua’s body and make room in the bones for the new marrow. During this phase of treatment, your son’s immune system will be even more fragile.” He looked to both of them. “As with before, family and visitors will have to be extremely careful. We cannot risk someone coming in to see Joshua who is sick. Also, while we encourage family and visitors, we don’t want Joshua to become overly tired.”
Hope nodded. And then something Dr. Parker had said earlier hit her. “You called the donor ‘she.’”
“Yes, the donor is Joshua’s grandmother.”
Shock was the only word that could describe what she was feeling. Her mother, the grandmother who couldn’t even remember her grandchildren’s names, was the only person who could save Joshua’s life. “Has Claire—my mother—been told?”
“Yes,” Dr. Parker said.
“And”—Hope was almost afraid to ask the question—“she’s agreed to be the donor?”
“She has. I was told she was surprised when she learned she’d need to fly here as the surgical procedure will need to be performed at this hospital. But she was assured all her travel arrangements and related expenses would be taken care of.”
“I can handle those,” Nick said.
Hope looked at him. She should’ve been surprised by Nick’s answer but wasn’t. In the short time Nick had been back in her life, his generosity had known no bounds.
“All right,” Dr. Parker said. “I’ll put you in touch with the transplant coordinator in charge of Joshua’s case. Please keep them up to date.”
And then the full impact of everything Dr. Parker had said hit Hope. “Surgical procedure?”
“Yes,” Dr. Parker said. “In Joshua’s case, our best scenario for success is to surgically harvest the donor’s bone marrow. Your mother’s bone marrow. It’s unfortunate, but we do not believe the nonsurgical PBSC method would be as effective.”
Surgery. Hope’s heart began to race. “And this has been explained to my mother?”
Dr. Parker leaned back, rolling a pen between his two open palms. “As I’m not the doctor in charge of her procedure, I can’t say for certain, but I would imagine so.”
I can’t say for certain.
All the fears Hope had experienced while sitting in Dr. Arnt’s office came rushing back. To give her grandson life, Claire Montgomery faced a daunting series of events. Would she do it? Would the grandmother who hadn’t even wanted to meet her grandchildren place herself in harm’s way for one of them?
The doctor stood, his smile still in place, completely unaware of Hope’s inner turmoil. “Naturally I haven’t said anything to Joshua. I thought you would like to be the ones to deliver the good news.” And then he left.
Nick squeezed Hope’s hand as he stood. “Come on, let’s go tell our son the news.”
“Nick, wait.”
Concern darkened his features as he sat back down. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m scared,” Hope admitted. “You heard Dr. Parker. They are going to have to do the more invasive of the two methods. The riskier of the two. The more painful. The greater recovery time. How can I believe my mother would agree to that?”
Nick rubbed the lower half of his face. “I want to say there’s absolutely no way Claire would say no, but we both know there is. I guess there’s only one way to find out for sure.”
It was the same conclusion Hope had drawn. She fished her cell out of her pocket and dialed quickly, desperate to know.
“Hello?” her
mother answered.
“Hello, Mom. It’s me, Hope.”
“I was expecting your call.”
“We just finished talking to Joshua’s doctor. He explained you’re a match.” Hope took a breath, held it for a moment, and then asked, “Did they explain the procedure to you?”
“Yes. A lady called and explained everything in great detail.”
Hope’s heart felt as if it were pounding out of her chest. Great detail. “Mom.” Hope closed her eyes, said a prayer, and asked the only question that mattered. “Will you do this for your grandson?”
There was a beat of silence. And then another. And then a third. “Yes,” her mother finally said.
Hope sagged forward in utter relief. “Thank you. Thank you. I wish . . . I wish I had a better way of expressing just how very much this means, Mom, but words seem so inadequate. Thank you,” Hope said again. “I’ll call you in the next day or two with the travel details. Please don’t worry about that. Everything”—Hope looked to Nick, and he nodded—“everything will be taken care of. And Mom. Thank you.”
“I . . .” Her mom started to speak, then said, “I’ll wait for your call.”
“Bye, Mom.”
“Good-bye, Hope.”
This time when Nick stood and said, “Come on, let’s go tell our son the news,” Hope followed without hesitation.
* * *
FOR the longest time, Joshua didn’t say anything after he heard the news. It was as if he were letting the information soak in, settle, find a solid perch where it was secured. Where nothing could knock it off and take it away.
Nick watched Joshua and felt his admiration for his son grow. As with everything else Nick had seen Joshua endure, he handled this new news with a maturity and grace that far exceeded his years. Nick looked to Hope and realized she had given their son those gifts.
“My grandmother?” he finally said.
“Yes, honey,” Hope answered, tears pooling in her eyes, magnifying their green depths.
“I’ll have to thank her,” Josh said quietly.
Hope nodded her head again, as if speech were impossible at that moment. She was sitting up toward the top of the bed, on the edge, holding Joshua’s hand. Every so often she’d reach out, brush her fingers against his cheek, run her hand up and down his arm, all without ever letting go. It was as if she couldn’t let go. Like she needed to touch him every moment to reassure herself.
A little later, Dana and Susan arrived and with the addition of the two of them, the room took a festive turn.
The nurses, learning the news from Dr. Parker, had filtered in over the next few hours to wish Joshua well and tell him how excited they were for him.
The time passed quickly. When Joshua began to doze, the four of them made their way out of his room and down the hall.
Dana gave Hope a hug. “I’m so happy for you. For all of you,” she said, looking not only to Hope and Susan but Nick as well.
Since Hope was planning on staying a while longer at the hospital, Susan asked if she could go home with Dana.
“Sure, go ahead,” Hope told Susan.
Dana and Susan hadn’t taken more than ten steps when Dana turned and asked Hope, “What about you? You’ll need a ride because your car is still in the shop.”
“I’ve got it covered,” Nick said.
Hope looked at him, clearly surprised. That was okay. He needed her off her game for what he planned next.
Susan came back to where Hope and Nick were standing. The closer she came, the more tentative her steps became. “Bye, Nick,” she said softly, and then, quickly, as if she feared she’d lose her nerve if she didn’t do it right then, she gave Nick a hug and a huge smile.
Nick’s arms closed around her. Nothing had ever felt so right. “Bye, Susan.”
Still smiling, Susan rushed back down the hall, Dana following.
“Do you want to grab a Coke or something while Joshua’s sleeping?” Nick asked.
“A Coke sounds great.”
The small family lounge at the end of the corridor was deserted. The minute they stepped through the doorway, Hope began to rifle through her purse, pulling out her wallet and digging for quarters for the soda machine.
Nick already had out a handful of mad money, as Josh called it. Inserting the coins, he made the selections and hit the button. One can, then another clunked into the tray.
He turned, handed one to Hope.
“Here.” She had several quarters in her hand.
“For God’s sakes, Hope. It’s just a can of pop. I’ve got it covered.” He turned and sat down. She took a seat across from him.
She leaned back, closed her eyes, and let out a deep sigh. “My mother,” was all she said, and it said it all.
“Yes.” He shook his head, popped open his Coke, and took a drink.
“I know you don’t like it but I’m going to say it again, thank you. For handling the travel arrangements.”
“You’re right. I don’t. But you’re welcome.”
Hope’s hair was down, not in its usual ponytail or twisty thing on top of her head. She ran her hands through it, fluffed it up, then brushed it away from her face. She tucked her legs under her and leaned back, studying him. In that moment, she looked more like Susan’s sister than her mother. “It’s weird,” she said.
“What is?”
“You. Being here. Taking care of things that are normally my responsibility. Talking to the doctors, making arrangements.” Her voice was low, almost reflective.
“Does it bother you?”
Her elbow was propped on the arm of the chair. She leaned to the side, letting her head rest in the palm of her hand. “Yes.” She gave a soft smile. “And no. I meant what I said earlier. I am sorry. Joshua and Susan are your children too. It’s just that I’ve been the only one to take care of things for so long.” She fiddled with the top of her unopened pop. “For a long time I was so angry at you.”
“Are you still angry?”
“I don’t think so. Oh, I don’t know. Right now all I can think about is Joshua.”
Nick sat forward on the edge of his seat. He reached across the narrow room and clasped Hope’s hand in his. “I think about Joshua all the time, too. But I also think about you and me. And I’m sorry, too. I’ve made a lot of mistakes that I’m not proud of.”
“I wish . . .”
“What?” he asked.
A delicate smile brought her beautiful cheeks into clear focus. “Nothing.” She said it as soft as a first kiss. She didn’t say anything more for a long time, and then, “You’re great with them, you know. Well, except for the expensive gifts you can’t seem to stop buying them. I thought we had an agreement. Anything over twenty dollars we were going to discuss.”
“It was a hundred.”
“Ha. Ha. It was fifty.”
“So you do remember.”
She laughed. “Only when I want to.”
Did she have any idea how she captivated him?
“And speaking of our agreement,” he said. “Just remember it didn’t include purchases I made for you.” He opened her fingers, dropped a set of keys into her palm, then closed them. “I talked to the auto mechanic and it’s just as I expected. Your car is beyond repair.”
She weighed the keys in her hands. “On any other day, that news would hurt. Don’t ask me why, but I love that old car.” She looked up at him and smiled. “But after what the doctor told us and the gift Joshua is going to receive, nothing can dampen my mood.”
She reached for her purse and was just about to drop the keys inside when she looked at them. “These aren’t Gertrude’s.”
He wondered how long it was going to take her to notice. “I know.”
She went to hand them back.
“No.” He stopped her. “They’re yours. Just not to th
e Wagoneer. There’s a Lincoln Navigator in the parking lot for you. It’s green. The same color as your eyes.”
“Nick . . .” She tried again to hand him back the keys. “I can’t accept this.”
“The car’s yours.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes,” he said again.
“No,” she said, a lot more firmly. And then, “I can play the yes-no game all night. I’ve had nearly sixteen years of practice.”
She had him there. He tried another approach. “You need a reliable way to get back and forth to the hospital.”
“You buying the kids stuff is one thing; you buying me anything is another.”
“Damn it, Hope, stop being so stubborn. You’re the mother of my children and the most important person in Joshua’s life. He needs you, and you need to be here with him. How do you expect to accomplish that without a car?”
“I’ll ride the bus. I’ll take a cab. I’ll buy a new car.”
They both knew how impractical the first two suggestions were and the impossibility of the last one.
“I don’t have time to argue with you, Hope. I have to leave tonight. And don’t even think of trying to resurrect Gertrude. I won’t have you driving around in that death trap.”
At the word leave her face changed. Once again, she’d closed herself off from him, taken that laughing, teasing, beautiful woman and hidden her.
“You’re leaving.”
“Yes. I missed one race, I can’t afford to miss another. I thought you understood that.”
“I think I finally and truly am understanding that.” She untucked her legs and went to stand.
He laid a hand on her arm. “What does that mean?”
“Let it go. Please. It’s been a long day.” She gave a short, humorless laugh. “To say the least.”
Nick wanted to push her for answers, but he also knew that right now wasn’t the time. He opened his mouth, went to say okay, but heard himself say instead: “Come with me.”
“Come with you? Where?”
Boardwalk Summer Page 27