Smile falling, he looks up into the rearview mirror. “Maybe we should just go back home. I don’t think I can do this.”
“Of course you can. The question isn’t whether you want to, it’s whether you need to. I’m not going to let you run away from something just because it scares you. You yourself told me you needed this.”
He exhales through his mouth. “I did. But a part of me didn’t think this would actually happen.”
“Well it is happening. And you’re not a coward.”
“I’m feeling a lot like one right now.”
“No. This is one of the bravest things you’ve ever done. I’m sure they’re just as nervous. Hell, I’m nervous for you.”
“You are?”
I smooth down my dress. “Of course. I want this to go well for you.”
“I guess we’re about to find out,” he says, turning into a suburban street. Well-kept lawns line each side, some with laughing children playing in them. The air is clean. Calm. Happy.
I know a lot can go on behind closed doors. Often, the nicest homes house the unhappiest people. But I choose to see it as a good sign that Finn’s donor may have grown up here. I would love to live somewhere like this.
Glancing over at Finn, I see his deep frown fade away. The GPS announces our destination as we pull up outside a pleasant three-story home. Finn turns off the engine and stares straight ahead. Prying his rigid hands off the steering wheel, I take one in mine and squeeze. “It’s going to be okay.”
His head makes a slow turn toward me. “How do you know?”
“Because I’m here. You’re not doing this alone.”
I see the exact moment my words sink in. The scared little boy fades from his eyes, and my Finn returns. His whole body deflates. “You’re right.”
I wink. “I always am.”
“That’s usually my line.” His hand sweeps along the dashboard. “I know I’m not serious often, but thank you for coming, Ave. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’ll never have to find out.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a drape twitch. I’m just about to mention it to Finn when the front door creeps open and an anxious middle-aged woman comes into view, followed by a man.
Finn’s head swings round at the movement. For a moment, no one and nothing moves as Finn and his donor’s parents study each other. Finn’s grip on my hand becomes crushing.
“You ready?”
“No.”
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Are you going to be?”
He pauses before a small smile chases away the shadows on his face. “Yes.”
With a deep breath, Finn exits the car. Opening my own door, I walk around and join him on the other side. He reaches for my hand and clutches it in his palm. His donor’s parent’s follow the movement. Their eyes lift from our hands to me. The woman sends me a watery smile. Wrapping his arm around her, the man clears his throat. “Finley?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Please, call me Martin. This is my wife, Jenna. Welcome to our home.” I’m sure none of us judge him when his voice cracks on the end.
Pushing his shoulders back, Finn walks toward them and extends his free hand. “Thank you so much for having me. This is my best friend, Ava.”
We greet each other before they invite us inside. As they lead us into the main living room, I try to examine the photos lining the walls. The broad smiles and funny poses tell a story of a happy, close-knit family. I scan the faces, trying to identify Finn’s donor.
From what I can see, three children, one girl and two almost-identical looking boys grow up in the different frames, until only one boy and one girl remain. The smiles in the later photos are forced and sad. The missing space is obvious. My heart breaks for this family and what they’ve lost.
Looking at Finn, I see him also studying the photos while trying to maintain awkward, polite conversation with Martin and Jenna. When they follow his gaze, the pleasant atmosphere is sucked out of the room. As if it hurts to look at the photos, they both turn away at the same time. I notice Martin’s arm tighten around Jenna’s shoulders.
Entering the living room, I look around the space for more clues.
“Please, take a seat. Would you like s-some tea? Or coffee? Or w-water? Do you want anything to eat?” Jenna plumps and straightens the cushions on the couch. We all turn our heads, pretending not to notice the tears falling onto the fabric.
“Um, water would be lovely, thank you,” I tell her.
“Same for me, thanks,” Finn says.
“Do you need any help?” I ask.
“No. No thank you, sweetheart. You’re very kind.”
I nod, understanding she’s using a trip to the kitchen as an opportunity to compose herself. Martin kisses her temple and whispers something in her ear as she leaves the room. He takes a seat on the couch opposite us. The ticking clock on the wall interrupts the thick silence.
Martin coughs, “Did you have a long drive?”
“About two hours.”
“Where did you come from? Sorry, I forgot. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I know they encourage keeping as many things private as possible at this stage.”
“No, it’s fine. We live in San Francisco,” Finn explains.
“Ah, I see. I hope traffic wasn’t too bad?”
“No, it was a really smooth journey.”
“Good. Good. That’s, uh, good.”
The rattling of plates and glasses on a tray breaks up the awkward silence. Jenna places it on the coffee table and hands us our glasses before picking up two coffee cups for her and Martin. Her hands are shaking so much that she spills some coffee on his thigh.
“It’s fine, darling. Don’t worry.”
“Sorry,” she apologizes to the room. A tissue is scrunched up in her other hand. Her bright green eyes are rimmed with red as she looks at us. “I’m a nervous wreck.”
I smile. “I think we all are.”
Finn nods. “Tell me about it. I’m trying hard not to throw up all over your expensive carpet.” He winces at his unfiltered thoughts, but Jenna and Martin laugh. We both smile until we register the tears in their eyes. Finn stiffens next to me.
“Sorry,” Martin explains, chuckling and scrubbing his face. “It’s just something Robbie would say. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“No, you haven’t. Please don’t apologize. I’m here because I want to know more about him,” Finn reassures his donor’s dad.
Martin’s smile is broad. “I’ve got to admit… it’s nice to laugh. This house hasn’t had enough laughter since he left us. Before, it was full of it. He had such a good sense of humor. We used to call him the comedian of the family.”
I can see Finn struggling for words so I jump in. “Sounds like they would have gotten along well. Every other sentence Finn speaks is a joke.”
“Just like Robbie,” Jenna whispers, smiling through her tears.
This time, the silence that descends is more comfortable. Each of us is lost in different thoughts and memories.
“Thank you for coming. And for reaching out. Your letter…” Jenna inhales a shuddering breath. “It meant so much to us. We’ve often wondered over the years…” She trails off.
“We wondered about you,” Martin finishes her sentence. “Who you were. How you were doing. We respected your right to privacy and a new life, but just knowing you were out there, that a part of our son was still alive somewhere, it was a great comfort to us.”
“I’m glad,” Finn tells them. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear from me.”
“Oh, we did. Very much. Your request for contact after all these years was unexpected, but so welcome,” Martin explains.
Finn sinks back into his seat. “That’s good to know.”
Martin and Jenna seem to share a silent conversation before turning back to us. “If you don’t mind us asking, what made you reach out after all thes
e years?” Martin asks. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. We’re just curious, more than anything else.”
“No, it’s fine. Please stop apologizing. This works both ways. To be honest, I was scared. I’ve always wondered about Robbie. God, it’s so weird to have a name after all this time. It makes it so much more real. Anyway, as I was saying, I was curious, but I wasn’t sure if finding out about him would help me move forward with my new life, or hold me back. I was…”
I send him an encouraging nod when he flicks his eyes to me. “I wasn’t sure what type of person he was, and I was worried how I would deal with it if he wasn’t a good guy. For a while, ignorance was bliss, but over the past few months, it became a burden. I knew I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I had to know one way or another.”
Finn raises his eyes from the carpet to look at Robbie’s parents. He frowns when sees them both smiling. “That’s completely understandable. It must be strange, having part of someone else inside of you. I can’t imagine what that must be like,” Martin says.
“It’s a head trip, for sure.”
Everyone laughs. “Would you like to hear about Robbie?”
“Yes, please. But only if you don’t mind. I don’t want to do anything that’s painful for you.”
“Son, we’re no strangers to pain. This, here, is healing more of our pain than time ever has.”
Jenna rubs at her eyes with the tissue. “You’ve helped us see that his life mattered to more than just our family and his friends. He made a difference.”
“We’d love to tell you about him. Talking about him keeps him alive in our minds. What do you want to know?” Martin asks.
“What was he like?”
Martin smiles, his whole face lighting up. “Robbie was incredible. As we’ve already said, he was hilarious. But he was also kind and smart. And I’m not just saying that because I’m his dad. People would tell us his whole life what a good kid he was. He was popular and well-loved for all the right reasons. He cared about others.” Jenna sniffles as her husband describes their son. With every word, Finn’s body relaxes next to mine. I stroke my thumb over the back of his hand.
Martin chuckles as he loses himself in invisible memories. “He had a killer sense of adventure. He absolutely loved life and was a real adrenaline junkie. His dream was to be a stunt man. He was always doing crazy things that kept his mother and me up at night. Throwing himself out of planes, bungee jumping, dirt bike racing. You name it.”
Finn grins. “He sounds like my kind of guy.”
“He was everyone’s kind of guy. His love for life was infectious.”
“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking?” Finn’s voice is soft and sensitive.
Martin’s smile drops. “It was a freak accident. He and his twin brother, Ryan, went white-water rafting. It’s something they’d done a million times before. It was their ‘thing’ together.”
“He was a twin?” Finn sounds as shocked as I feel.
“Yes. Growing up, they were inseparable. Robbie was older by half an hour and he never let Ryan forget it. He was always the braver, more out-going one. But he was so protective of Ryan and our youngest daughter, Alice. He would have died for them, and in the end, he did.” Releasing a painful cry, Jenna bends forward, hiding her face in her hands. Martin rubs her shaking back, whispering quiet words to her before he continues his devastating story.
“Their boat took a sharp turn and flung them into the path of some jagged rocks. Acting on instinct, Robbie pushed Ryan out of the way and collided with the rock himself. The force of the impact was so strong that it smashed the helmet he was wearing into pieces.”
Finn and I both suck in a sharp breath. Tears fill my eyes at the emotion on Martin’s face. Wanting to finish the story, he tries to compose himself by swallowing several times. Water laces his words when he speaks again. “Ryan made it out with a few bruises and scrapes. He was able to pull Robbie out of the water and give him CPR until help arrived, but by the time he made it to the nearest hospital, he was declared brain dead. He was already gone.”
“I-I’m so sorry,” Finn speaks for both of us. The lump lodged in my throat makes it too painful to speak.
“It’s not your fault, son. It’s no one’s fault. Just wish we could convince Ryan of that. He’s struggled with the guilt of his brother’s death for a long time.”
“He isn’t to blame,” Finn tells him.
“We all know that. I think deep down Ryan knows that, too. But guilt is easier to deal with than grief. He didn’t just lose his brother; he lost the other half of him.”
“Where is Ryan now?” Finn looks around the room as if he might just appear.
“He’s out with Alice. They both wanted to meet you, but we, uh, thought it was best for everyone if just the two of us met you first and saw how it went. Plus, we didn’t want to overwhelm you,” Martin explains.
“I understand. No pressure, but if you want to, and if you think it would help, I’m happy to meet them.”
Jenna raises her tear-stained face. Her lips quiver. “Y-you are?”
“Of course. It sounds like I’m not the only one searching for closure.”
“You’re a good man, Finley,” a choked Martin says.
“I’m honored to have part of another good man inside me.”
“So, did you get the answers you were looking for?” I ask Finn as he moves the car away from the Pullman’s drive.
“I did. I got the answers to questions I didn’t even know I had.”
“I’m so pleased for you, Finn. I don’t think I’ve ever cried so much; that was so emotional.”
“Right? I had something in my eye the whole time I was there.”
I smile. “Something in your eye. Sure. They were so nice.”
“They were.”
“Did your talk with Ryan help him any?” I ask. The rest of the family and I stayed behind while Finn and Ryan went for a walk. They both had red eyes when they returned.
Turning onto a long stretch of road, Finn shrugs. “I hope so. It helped me.”
“Yeah?”
He meets my eye in the mirror and smiles. “Yeah, a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I don’t have a part of a stranger inside me anymore. I have Robbie, you know? He was a son, a brother, a friend. He was a good person. I may never have met him, but now I’m at peace with myself. Finally.”
“That’s great. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks. I’m kind of proud of me, too.”
“You should be. I think today meant just as much to them, if not more. Do you think you’ll keep in touch?” I ask as we merge onto the freeway.
“I hope so. I exchanged numbers and addresses with everyone. I don’t want to replace Robbie at all, but I let them know I’m here if they ever want to talk or if I can do anything for them.”
“That’s sweet.”
“They’re sweet people. They didn’t deserve such a tragedy. They made the decision that gave me a new life. If I can offer them any comfort in return, it’s the least I can do, you know?”
His question is a poignant one. It echoes through my mind as we drive home. And stays with me in the days and weeks that follow.
No, I don’t know. But should I?
Should I feel guilty for not reaching out to my own donor’s family?
Should I put a name and face to my heart, like Finn has for his lungs?
Should I reopen the wound that literally is still healing?
Should I?
Could I?
And what will happen if I do?
“Is it the food that keeps tasting better or me that’s becoming greedier?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
I press my face into Gabriel’s chest, laughing. “Good point. Don’t answer that. The food was delicious, though. Even better than last time.” Although that might have something to do with the fact that I no longer have first date nerves, but I do have the guy.
“I’m glad you enjoy it so much.”
“I do. It feels like ‘our place’ now, you know?”
Gabriel doesn’t say anything, but his hand traces patterns along my bare arm. He releases a sigh of pure contentment. I slip my hand into his back pocket as we walk along the boardwalk. This time, we went to the restaurant on a Saturday, so our moonlight walk doesn’t have to be interrupted because of work the next day.
But even on the weekends, Gabriel makes me want to fight sleep like a small child, not wanting to miss out on anything. He follows me into my dreams, but it’s still not enough. I lie in bed at night, counting down the hours until I can see him again. I can only hope I make him do the same.
Breathing in a lungful of warm, salty air, I think about how far we’ve come since we were last here. As individuals and as a couple.
“What are you thinking about?” Gabriel asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Your whole face lit up with a smile.”
“I was just thinking that I’m proud of us.”
“Proud?”
“Yes. We’ve both changed so much over the past few months, especially you.”
In between the streetlamps, his face is only a dark silhouette, but I see his lips tilt up in the corners. “It’s all because of you, mi corazón.”
My pulse spikes at endearment. Gabriel started calling me mi corazón a few weeks ago and I love it. I know it’s a common romantic endearment in Spanish, but when he says it, it feels like it belongs just to me. And like he does, too.
“Who’d have thought the last time we were here that we’d be together like this now? Life is crazy,” I say.
“It is.”
I bite my lip and look up at him. “Shall we have a do-over?”
“A do-over? What do you mean?”
“Well, the last time we were walking along this beach, we had a heart-stopping kiss that made you go crazy. I’m hoping we can recreate it, only without the meltdown.”
Gabriel laughs and stops walking. Facing me, he glides his palms around my waist, pulling me into him. He towers over me, protecting me from the elements and creating a sense of privacy. Standing under the light, I can make out his beloved features. Beautiful grey eyes that are only for me.
This Old Heart of Mine Page 14