“Hey, it’s me. She’s gone. She’s going to be out for about four hours. Can you come? Now?”
“I’m on my way.” I don’t give him time to say anything else, just hang up. The drive there is excruciating, and several times I think about running my car into a utility pole, but what if I hurt some innocent person in the process? That’s not something I want to do.
I’m practically running when I get to the hospital doors, and the volunteer gives me directions on how to get where I’m going. I take the elevator to the seventh floor, take a left, and run down the hallway. When I reach the big nurses’ station, I’m panting. “I’m looking for Baker Lawson?”
“Room 799. All the way at the end of the hallway. You can’t miss it.”
“Thanks.” I want to sprint but make an effort to slow down, trying to be mindful of the other patients on the floor.
But when I reach the door, my heart breaks all over again. Baker’s in a far too big hospital bed, tubes and wires everywhere. Boone’s there, bending over the bed, and when I tap on the door facing, he turns. “Melina?”
“Yeah. Hey, buddy,” I say softly and Baker turns toward my voice.
“Hey, Poopsie! I missed you! They wouldn’t let me bring Doodle with me. I hate this place.” He’s got some kind of action hero figurine he’s playing with. “Where have you been? I thought you didn’t want to see me anymore.”
“No, buddy. I love you, you know that. It has nothing to do with not wanting to see you, because you know I always do.”
“I know. My mom is very ugly about you. I don’t know why she doesn’t like you. I told her she should meet you, that you’re nice and pretty and stuff, but she doesn’t care. She says you’re a bad influence. What does that mean?” When I catch a glimpse of Boone’s face, I can see this is the first time he’s heard all this, judging by the shock in his expression.
“It means she thinks I might do bad things to you or teach you bad things. But I would never do that.”
“No. You would never do that. You love me, and you love Daddy, don’t you?” he asks, his innocent little eyes sparkling with hope.
“I do. I love you and your daddy very much. Is there anything I can get you? Anything I can do for you?”
“Yeah. You can get Doodle. I need him here. He tells me stories.”
“Tell you what. I’ll get him and you can have my phone. I’ve got a hotspot on it, and you can run Doodle off that.”
“But you’ll need your phone,” he points out.
“No. I won’t.” I’m sure Boone’s wondering what that’s about. He doesn’t need to know. “You can have it. I want you to have it. Then you and Doodle can be together wherever you are.”
“Great! I miss him, especially since Honker’s gone. Daddy?”
“Yeah, sweetie?”
“Can I have some lemonade? Will they let me have some?”
“I’ll ask. Melina, will you help me find a nurse to ask about lemonade?”
He wants to talk to me. I hope he doesn’t think that’s going to get him very far, because it won’t. “Sure.” When we both get out into the hallway, I throw up a hand. “Don’t, Boone. I can’t. It’s more than I can bear. I can’t handle this.”
“Why did you promise him your phone?”
“Because I’m going to give it to him. With Doodle.”
“You need your phone.”
“I won’t.”
His eyes narrow. “Melina, what are you talking about?”
“Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t concern you.”
Now I see those hazel eyes flash crimson. “Yes. If it concerns you, it concerns me.”
“It shouldn’t. There’s no us so you don’t have anything to be concerned about. Find that lemonade. I’m going back in there with Baker. I don’t have long before the queen of the damned shows up again, so I’ve got to make the most of it.” He just stands there for a few seconds until I say, “Go on! Go!” Before he can say anything else, I head back to Baker’s room.
We sit and talk about the zoo, since I didn’t get to go, and spaghetti, and how he wants to play on the little league baseball team next year. It’s taking everything I have not to break down in front of him. While we’re talking, the doctor comes in and asks where Boone is, so I tell her where I think he’s gone. And just as she’s leaving the room, I think of something, something I should’ve thought of before, so I chase her down in the hallway. “Doctor!”
“Yes?”
I tip my head to get a good look at her name tag. “Dr. … Bridges?”
“Yes, ma’am. What can I do for you?”
“I want you to test me.”
“Test you?”
“As a donor.”
She eyes me warily. “A donor? For Baker?”
“Yes. Please.”
“Miss …”
“Roberts. Melina Roberts. I want to give him a kidney if I’m a match, and if I’m not, I’ll ask some friends to be tested. But please, test me?”
“His parents will have to approve.”
“Not if you don’t tell them. Not if you use me as an anonymous donor.”
“I can’t―”
“Are you trying to tell me I want to give a kidney to a little boy and you won’t let me? Because, I have to tell you, that’s the most fucked-up thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Miss Roberts, we don’t have to―”
“Use expletives? Yes. Yes, we do. There’s nothing delicate about this situation, so let’s quit pussy-footing around it. I want to donate a kidney if I’m a match. I know the chances of me being one are slim to none, but I want to at least be tested. Can you just humor me? Please?”
She stands there, looking exhausted and hopeless, and then sighs. “Sure. I can do that. Come on. Do you know what your blood type is?”
“O.”
She stops and stares at me. “Did you know Baker is a Type O?”
“No, but that’s good, right? That’s universal, so he can get a kidney from just about anybody. I don’t understand why you haven’t been able to―”
“No, no! A Type O donor can donate to anybody. But a Type O recipient can only receive from a Type O donor. And we don’t have many Type O donors. Come on. Let’s get this done.” She’s almost running and I’m struggling to keep up.
Sure enough, the blood type test is positive. “Now cross-matching and tissue typing. It’ll take a little while to get these done, but I’m putting a priority on it with the lab. I’ll let you know as soon as I do. Can I call you?”
“Please.”
“Okay. But there are a lot of other hoops that have to be jumped through. It usually takes months.”
I level my gaze with hers. “We both know he doesn’t have months.”
She stares back and then, in one brief second, I see it―agreement. “I’ll get on this. We can waive a lot of the stuff, like the psychological profile. I’ve ordered regular bloodwork with the typing and cross-matching so we’ll know if you’re healthy enough to donate.”
“All you need to know is that the kidney is healthy. As for me … Nobody cares, Dr. Bridges. Nobody. So if I’m not here anymore, it won’t be a big deal. But that little boy? He has his whole life ahead of him, and that’s worth saving.”
“I disagree that nobody cares about you. I care about you. But I know what you’re saying. We’re going to do everything we can to get this all done. Consider yourself on standby and I’ll be in touch.”
I run back to Baker’s room to find Boone there, holding the lemonade Baker wanted. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got an errand to run. Baker, I love you, buddy.”
“Poopsie, don’t go!”
“I have to. I have something very important to do. I’ll come back if I can.” I’m headed out when I hear that voice behind me.
“Wait! Melina, wait!” I stop and turn, exhausted from the effort. “Where are you going?”
“I’ve got some business to attend to. I’ll be back if I can. Just know that this is for the b
est.” My statement needs no explanation, and I simply head toward the elevators, Boone calling after me. He can just keep calling. This is far more important.
I head down to the business office at the hospital and fill out pre-admission forms like Dr. Bridges said I need to. That takes an hour. When they ask for insurance, I tell them Boone will be paying for everything. I sure as hell won’t. As soon as I get out of here, I’m done, and I don’t want them taking my estate. At least the club will have something to show for my miserable life.
When I’m finished, I go back upstairs, but I hear a woman’s voice coming from Baker’s room, so I just leave. I don’t want to run into his mother. That’s the last thing he needs.
My house is quiet, and that’s a comfort. I don’t know what to do about my stuff, but I named Dave the executor of my estate, so he can take care of all that shit. I don’t care. I won’t need it where I’m going.
The possibility that I might be giving Baker a kidney means I can’t take a sleeping pill, so I just toss and turn. I keep seeing Boone’s eyes, the haunted look there, the pain, the anguish of knowing his son is dying and he’s powerless to do anything to help him. I can’t even imagine what that must be like. He won’t have me to fall back on, but he’ll have his brothers, his sisters-in-law, and his parents. That’ll have to be enough. I’ve just been shit on one too many times.
Sunlight is starting to filter into the bedroom through the miniblinds when my phone rings, and I don’t recognize the number, but I answer anyway. “Hello?”
“Is this Melina Roberts?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Ms. Roberts, this is Dr. Sam Tidwell, the physician with the transplant team at the children’s hospital. I was calling to tell you that your tissue typing and cross-match are good, and we’re a go for the live donor transplant. We need you at the hospital in about forty-five minutes if you can get here.”
I’m already on my feet and grabbing clothes. “Yes, sir. Just tell me where to go and I’ll be there.” He gives me more than adequate directions and I’m out the door in ten minutes.
The drive there is hellish. I think about all the possibilities. I could give Baker a kidney and he might die anyway. I might die―no biggie there. If he makes it and I make it, Boone can never, never know it was me who donated. Then when I’m gone, he won’t have a lot of regrets.
I get there with fifteen minutes to spare and they have me prepped in no time. “Ms. Roberts, is there anybody you’d like for us to call?”
Lying there, staring at the ceiling, I think for a second. “Yeah. My boss, Frieda Yoder over at Frills ‘n Thrills. Tell her I won’t be back to work for a while because I’m in the hospital.”
“Yes, ma’am. We’ll have a hospital liaison call her and tell her. Okay, here we go. We’re going to give you a shot so you’ll relax and then we’ll get started. In five, four, three …”
Chapter Fourteen
Things are hazy―very hazy. I can hear voices and beeping and clicking and other noises, but I don’t know what’s going on. I just want to go back to sleep.
When I rouse a little again, I hear voices, but this time there’s one that’s very familiar. It’s Dave. I can’t understand what he’s saying, but I know he’s talking to someone. I’m trying to get my eyes open, but I can’t. I hear him say, “When she wakes up,” but I can’t catch the rest of it.
The next thing I’m aware of is something cold on my face. I try to get my eyes open, and this time I succeed―well, one of them anyway. Dave’s there, and he looks worried. “Melina? Are you waking up? Hey, she’s waking up. Hey, babe! How do you feel?”
I try to say something, but I can’t. My mouth won’t work. “Vitals are good,” I hear a professional-sounding voice say. “Miss Roberts? Miss Roberts, can you hear me? Hopefully it hasn’t affected her hearing. Miss Roberts?”
“Um-hmmm,” I answer.
“Can you hear me?”
“Um-hmmm,” I repeat.
“I need to know, can you tell me your first name?”
“Muh-huh-nuh,” I reply. Why does my voice sound that way? It’s weird.
“That was pretty good. What’s your birthdate?”
“Uh-ah if.” It’s August fifth. Is that what I said? It didn’t sound like it.
There’s murmuring around me and I hear Dave say, “What does this mean?” The sound of feet shuffling away is all I get. At some point, I hear him say, “I’m calling his brother.” I have no idea what that means.
I keep trying to get my eyes open. I can open the left one, but the right one just isn’t cooperating. Then I try my right arm, but my hand doesn’t want to work. What’s going on here? I try to get the attention of one of the nurses, but she either can’t hear me, or she can’t figure out what I’m saying. Why is everything so odd?
Some time passes―I’m not sure how long―and a familiar-looking face fills my vision. “Hey, cupcake. How do you feel?”
Brock. Oh, god, what’s he doing here? “Uh ohgah.” I want to scream, I’m okay! but it just won’t come out.
“Boone’s with Baker, but I’m going down to talk to him. He should be here with you too. I don’t know what to do, but Mom and Dad are on their way, and Blake and Misti. I think Brandt and his wife are coming too, believe it or not. It’s gonna be okay, cupcake. Everything’s gonna be all right.”
“Uh-hah.” What did I just say? Why isn’t my leg moving? I don’t understand.
Dave’s back, and this time, he has Dr. Bridges with him. “You need to talk to her. She’s afraid,” he says, and I think he’s talking about me.
“Miss Roberts?” I nod ever so slightly. “It’s Dr. Bridges. Can you understand me?” I want to yell, Well, fuck yeah. I’m not stupid! “Miss Roberts, there was a complication during the surgery. Baker did well. We think he’s going to do fine. But you had a stroke immediately following. We hit it with TPA and we’re hoping that does the trick, but for now, you’ve got some speech and sensory deficits. Your right side is partially paralyzed, so talking, walking, writing, anything like that, will be affected. We’re hoping you’ll be able to walk and talk again, but only time and therapy will tell.”
They’ve got to be kidding. Are they kidding? I can’t even fucking die right! I wish they had let me die there on the table, but I suppose being trapped here is even worse, and that’s the kind of shit that happens to me. I’m trapped in a body that won’t even help me kill myself. Great, just fucking spectacular. Perfect multi-colored sprinkles on the shit pile of my life. I close my eyes and will everybody to go away. Just leave me here in my own shit and piss and let me die, please. It’s over as far as I’m concerned.
And then I hear his voice. Oh, god, no. I don’t want him to see me this way, not like this. The pathetic woman who was so damaged that she wasn’t fit to be around his child. Now I’m half person, half eggplant, and that’s guilt I didn’t want him carrying. I hear the chair as he pulls it across to the bed, and I pretend I’m asleep so I don’t have to talk to him. What am I thinking? I can’t talk to him. I sound like a drunken gerbil.
“Melina?” His voice is soft and I feel him take my hand―the left one. He may have the right one too. How the hell would I know? I can’t feel it. “Melina, it’s me. Boone. Melina, please, open your eyes? Please?” Well, shit. I can’t stand to hear him beg, so I open the left one. I can’t get the right one open. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She had a stroke following the surgery, Boone. They don’t know if it’s going to get better or not.”
“What? No! Melina! No,” he says and starts to cry. I can’t stand this. He’s crying over me, over my worthlessness and stupidity. I should’ve never gotten involved with this man. I’ve hurt him and his family, even though I may have saved his son. “Melina, listen to me. I love you. I love you more than you could ever know. I can’t believe you did this for Baker. Why didn’t you tell me you were doing this?” Because you would’ve told me I couldn’t, I want to scream, but I can’t. “Melina, loo
k at me.” I force my eye open again to see him hold up my hand, and on it is my engagement ring. “Brock went to your house and got this. It’s not coming off, do you hear me? You’re undeniably mine, baby. I’m not letting go again. Marie can go fuck herself.” Would’ve been nice if he’d told her that weeks ago.
“Mr. Lawson, can you step out into the hall for a few seconds?” a voice asks.
“I’ll be right back,” he says and kisses my hand, then places it gently on the bed. I can hear him out in the hallway, a hushed female voice and Boone’s loud one. “She saved Baker’s life! I don’t give a damn about any of that shit, Marie. You’re going in there to thank her and apologize to her for what you’ve done to her. To us. I won’t accept anything less.”
“I will, Boone. Right now. I’m so sorry for all this. What’s going―”
“She had a stroke after the surgery. Do you understand, Marie? She almost gave her life for our son, and she’s ruined her health. The sacrifice she’s made, it goes above and beyond anything we’ve ever done for him. If anything, she deserves your respect, that’s for sure.”
“And she’s going to get it too. I’m sorry, Boone. I really am. Will you go in there with me?”
Someone steps into the room and Boone says, “Melina? There’s somebody here to see you.” I force my eye open and what I see almost does me in.
It’s Beatrice. What the fuck is going on? I hear her say, “Melina, I …” and then she’s quiet. “Boone, that’s not Melina.”
“It sure as hell is,” he growls.
“No. That’s …” As I watch, she steps backward through the door of my room, looks at the name plate on the wall beside the doorway, and comes back. “Oh my god. That’s Mary. She’s Mary.”
“No. That’s Melina.”
“No. That’s Mary―from the adult store. I’d know her anywhere. Mary? Is that you?” I nod. “Oh, god. No. No, no, no, no, no. It can’t be.”
“I’m confused,” Boone says. Makes two of us, buddy, I want to say. “This is Melina, my girlfriend. If she’s been seeing you at the store for months, why didn’t she tell me?”
Undeniably His: Bliss Series, Book Five Page 26