by Emma Scott
“The morning?” Beverly’s hand crept to the neckline of her cardigan.
“Pending the results of several tests, we’re going to keep Jonah overnight,” Dr. Morrison said. “Purely as a precaution.”
No one moved. Glances darted here and there until the doctor cleared his throat and made a firm gesture toward the door. We all shuffled out, and I waited for Jonah to look at me or call me back. He didn’t.
In the hallway, the Fletchers asked questions. Theo answered. Dr. Morrison elaborated. I stood in numb silence, listening to the squeak of rubber-soled shoes on linoleum as nurses passed by. Machines beeped alarms and a voice over an intercom paged a doctor.
“Kacey?”
I jumped. They were all staring at me. Beverly’s smile was a frozen grimace while her eyes melted to panic. “You’ll stay with Jonah after he’s released tomorrow?”
“Of course,” I said, conscious of Theo’s eyes on me. “In fact, I should go home and pack a few things to stay over…”
Theo’s whiskey-colored eyes met mine. In their imploring gaze, I could hear an echo of an earlier conversation.
You’re just going to leave…
I shook my head at him, as if he’d spoken aloud. “I’m going to pack a bag,” I said. “Then I’m coming back. I am…I…”
Then Beverly laid her hand on my arm. “You know, Kacey, I’d love some coffee. Will you join me?”
I sucked in a breath and nodded. “Yes, sure. Of course.”
Her hand still tucked in my elbow, we headed down to the first floor cafeteria. A space I typically associated with school, filled with laughter, shrieks and loud crosstalk. The hospital cafeteria was sparsely populated and quiet as a library. Only a few people occupied tables, eating in silence. One or two patients in wheelchairs sat with nurses or family members.
Beverly took a small table near the window while I bought two cups of coffee. We sat without drinking for a long, silent time, watching little black birds hop around the courtyard outside.
“It is hard for you to be here, isn’t it?” Beverly said after a moment. “It’s hard for all of us, but unlike you, we’ve known Jonah all of our lives. Before the virus. Before the transplant. But you met him only months ago. When he was already sick.”
I nodded.
“And here you are,” she said. “He was sick when you met him, but here you are. That’s an extraordinary thing, I think, to begin so close to the end.”
“I…I’m scared.” I set my coffee cup down before my shaking hands spilled it. “I don’t think I’m strong enough.”
“May I tell you a story, dear?” Her tone meant, I am going to tell you a story and you are going to listen. But I welcomed it. I needed the distraction. I needed someone else’s words to push out the panicky fear that ricocheted around my thoughts like lightning.
“When Jonah was born, I changed. Profoundly. Forever. I think that’s the way it is with every new mother. You spend nine months carrying this little being in you, this little stranger, until finally they’re born, and you see their face…”
Her gazed fixed beyond the window, beyond the little birds, to a moment twenty-six years ago. “When I saw Jonah’s face for the first time it was like seeing someone again after a long absence. Not a meeting, but a reunion.”
She reached over and briefly patted my hand. “I love both my sons equally, of course. But they’re so different. Theo and I have spent our entire lives getting to know each other and it’s not always been easy. But with Jonah, it’s effortless.”
Beverly’s brows knitted together, as if she were trying to recall something now forgotten. “I’ve known Jonah before. I know I have. Call it reincarnation or whatever you’d like. I’m not religious or even particularly spiritual. But I can’t help but feel the universe is a vast place, and the soul of a human being is infinite, even if the body is temporary.” She nodded to herself, certain now. “I’ve known Jonah before, and I know I’ll see him again. And that gives me comfort. Not a lot, but some.”
She turned to me. “And you, Kacey. You give me comfort. Quite a lot more comfort these days than anything else.”
I swallowed the jagged lump in my throat but couldn’t move otherwise. Beverly’s words wrapped around me and squeezed until all I could hear was her voice and my own heart thudding in my chest.
“I’m sure you know Jonah had a serious girlfriend in college,” she said.
“Audrey.”
“Yes. Nice girl, but serious. Driven. She was…precise about how she wanted her life to be.” Beverly’s mouth became a thin line, and her voice hardened. “I was angry with her for leaving Jonah when he needed her most. Furious. But you want to know something strange? The day after she flew out of the country, the very next day, we got the call that a donor had been matched. Isn’t that something?”
I didn’t say anything. No answer was required, anyway.
“Jonah was in surgery when she left. I tried to think of ways to break the news and comfort him. I thought surely he’d be devastated. Betrayed. Yet when I thought of their time together, I couldn’t recall anything that would qualify as much of a loss. Nothing significant in three years. His eyes didn’t light up when he looked at her across our dinner table. His voice didn’t change when he said her name. He never spoke of her with…awe. Only facts.
“Audrey and I are thinking of flying to Cabo. Audrey and I are attending the gallery opening. Audrey and I are having dinner with friends…’ It was a news report of incidentals.” She looked at me, her smile wreathed in a sheepish guilt. “That’s petty and unkind, but it’s true.”
“I understand.”
“His heart isn’t well now, but he’s much healthier in other ways. Ways I’d always hoped for when he was with Audrey, but never observed.”
I felt a tightening in my chest, an anticipation of something I needed to hear, something that would save me from my faltering courage.
“Jonah is always insisting we don’t talk about bucket lists,” Beverly said. “‘Don’t bucket-list me, Mom.’ But mothers… We all have our own list for our children—hopes we have for them. Dreams and aspirations. My list is full, and all the things Jonah might never do or experience weigh heavily on me. So heavy. A wedding, children of his own…”
She looked at me, her lips trembling, her eyes shining. “Falling in love and being loved in return. That’s the heaviest one. But you’re here now. And the way he talks about you…” Her eyes filled and spilled over. “His eyes light up and his voice changes when he says your name. His smile when you walk into a room is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”
A tingling warmth began to spread through me, warming me against the icy chill of fear and grief. Beverly reached out and brushed a tear from my cheek and cupped my chin.
“And even more beautiful than that, Kacey? Your eyes light up when my son is near. Your voice changes when you say his name. And the smile you wear when you’re looking at him and think no one is watching… Those are gifts I’ll never be able to thank you for. To know my Jonah is loved. He’ll leave this world loved, won’t he?”
I nodded, tears streaming from my eyes. “Yes,” I whispered. “He’s loved and he’ll be loved forever.”
Beverly’s smile shone through her tears like a ray of sun through rain. “Wonderful.” She patted my cheek and let her hand fall. “Cross that off my list, then.”
Six weeks.
Dr. Morrison laid it out for me. The biopsy results were as I expected: the hardening of the arteries was accelerating, and blood tests showed that the amount of antibodies my immune system had developed against the donor heart was skyrocketing. Heart failure was imminent. I was back on the donor list with emergency status, but to add insult to injury, the immunosuppressant medications had taken a toll on my kidneys, compromising my chances for a second transplant. In the eyes of the Board, I wasn’t a favorable candidate.
Six weeks. Not months anymore.
Strings of days.
; Hardly more than a thousand hours.
But within those hours, thousands upon thousands of moments…
I stared at the dust motes that danced in a shaft of morning sun lancing from the window. Real, warm light against the harsh fluorescents above me.
Dr. Morrison reached across the bed to lay his hand over my wrist. “Jonah?”
I inhaled deeply, and let it out in a gusty sigh of relief, as if something heavy had been pressing down on my chest and now it was gone.
The doctor’s hand on my arm tightened. “Jonah?”
“I’m fine,” I said, turning toward him. “I’m good, actually. Knowing the brutal truth… It’s better. I feel better.”
Oddly, I could breathe again. The twisted coil of anxiety and fear and dread were fading away. My emotions had been in free-fall for a week, when the first bout of unwarranted fatigue hit me just before the gallery opening. Kacey said I ran hot and cold, but that barely captured the range of emotions. Hot and cold, angry and guilty, scared shitless and scrambling to make peace. I’d been cycling through the five stages of grief, one after the other—each stage lasting less than a minute—then back to the beginning to start again. I’d had to push everyone away last night—even push Kacey away so I could cope with the inevitability.
I looked at Dr. Morrison now, a sense of peace settling over me, and profound relief from the chaotic emotions of the last few days.
“Would you like to talk to someone?” Dr. Morrison asked. “A counselor, perhaps? Or the chaplain?”
“I want to lodge a complaint with the Medical Board,” I said. “Worst. Biopsy. Ever.”
He chuckled. “You’ve always been one of my favorite patients, Jonah. Always.” His laughter quieted. “I’ve already taken the liberty of explaining the situation.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Not the best part of your job, I take it.”
“Never. But they knew this was a probability and they’re taking it well. As well as can be expected, rather. They’re waiting for you outside.”
“Dena and Oscar?” I asked.
Dr. Morrison nodded. “Tania too.”
I nodded. “And my girlfriend?”
He smiled. “She’s here.”
“I’m here,” echoed a voice at the door. Kacey stood with her hand on the frame. Her face pale, her eyes swollen and bloodshot, her hair a sloppy ponytail falling loose. She looked so damn beautiful I could hardly breathe.
“Get lost, doc,” I said.
“With pleasure.” He got up and Kacey raced passed him toward me, threw her arms around me as best she could across the bed and buried her face in my neck.
“I need to tell you something,” she said, her voice muffled.
“I need to tell you something too.” I pulled her far enough away too look at her, to brush the hair that stuck to the tears on her cheeks, like spun glass. “I’ve been such an ass to you, Kace. I’m so sorry. I was freaking out. Every minute I was feeling a different emotion and I—”
“I love you,” she said.
I stared at her.
“I love you,” she said. “I’m in love with you.”
Her words sunk into my heart. Not the failing organ in my chest, but the part of me that beat for her, lived for her. I felt saturated with warmth and a happiness I didn’t think was possible to experience. Not at a time like this. Not in a place like this.
Kacey’s hand slid against my cheek, her eyes filling. “Your face right now? Never in million years did I imagine a man looking at me like you’re looking at me right now. I love you,” she said again. “I know you want to protect me and it’s not going to work. I just love you all the more for it. You can’t keep me at a safe distance. I told you, there is no safe distance. There never was.”
“You’re right,” I whispered. “There never was. I love you. I love you so much…”
She laid her head down again, right at the tender spot of my incision but I didn’t care. Love and pain, I wanted all of it.
“I love you,” I said. “God, I never thought this would happen to me.”
“But it did,” she whispered. “It happened and all we can do now is take care of each other. Live in the little moments, right? Just like we promised. The little moments. We have so many. Thousands upon thousands.”
“Too many to count,” I said. I sniffed hard as my arms went around her and held her close. As close to me as I could, my lips kissing her hair. “And this right here…The best moment of my life.”
We held each other for a long time, and I thought about the choices Kacey made to arrive at his moment. To be here with me, knowing it wouldn’t last.
“You’re so brave,” I said. “You’re the bravest person I know.”
“Not me,” she said. “Brave or scared shitless, I don’t have a choice but to love you.” She raised her head and sniffled. “It’s all your fault, really. You’re so damn lovable.”
I laughed shortly. “I thought I was a stubborn smartass.”
“That too.” She wiped her eyes. “There’s a bunch of other people in the hall who want to give you a piece of their minds. Can I go get them?”
I nodded, smiled. “Yes. All of them. I want all of them.”
They all came in, my best friends, my parents, my brother. I faced the ring of people I loved best and called to mind this speech I’d rehearsed a hundred times in the last six months. I’d thought I’d give it alone. That I’d have to face the inevitable with an empty hand. But Kacey Dawson was there, her fingers entwined with mine. I wasn’t alone and my hand wasn’t empty.
I cleared my aching throat. “Okay, guys, the plan is there is no plan. No trips. No adventures. No bucket lists. This is what I want: to hang out together. Let’s have barbeques and breakfasts. A nice dinner at a fancy restaurant, or a breakfast at Mulligan’s. Or cupcakes out of an ATM. Let’s talk and tell stupid jokes and laugh a lot and…live.”
Nods and murmured assents.
“What I don’t want is anyone asking me how I feel a hundred times a day,” I said. “I promise I’ll tell you if I need anything but everything I could ever need or want is right here in this room. You are the loves of my life. I don’t want anything but to be together as much we can. That way, when the time comes…”
I swallowed hard, my vision blurring the faces of my people. “You don’t have to worry if I was happy. Or if I had regrets. I have none.” I looked to Kacey, my beautiful girl, and touched her tear-stained cheek. “No regrets.”
“Not one,” she whispered. She kissed her fingertips and touched them to my lips.
I took a moment to pull myself together, and quickly wiped my eyes.
“So that’s my big speech. I love you all and that’s it. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
My audience laughed softly through sniffles or coughs, and it was as if a horrible tension had been lifted. I didn’t want macho stoicism or restraint. I wanted their true selves and nothing more.
I wanted their moments.
Two days later, Theo came by my place in the late afternoon.
“Where’s Kacey?” he asked.
I handed him a beer from the fridge and took a green tea for myself. “She’s grocery shopping.”
Theo nodded, dropping onto the couch. “You’re not working tonight?”
“I quit today,” I said, sitting at the other end. “Harry asked if I’d been poached by a different limo company.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That his was the only limo service I’d ever work for in my entire life.”
“Shit, Jonah…”
“What?” I said, grinning. “Come on, it was a little funny.”
Theo snorted, turned his beer around in his hand. “Morrison said your kidneys are shot.”
“Apparently so,” I said.
He glanced at me. “And that’s what’s keeping you from being higher up on the donor list.”
“I know where this is going.”
“I’m just saying I could give you a ki
dney,” Theo said. “It would match. Your body won’t reject it because we’re blood. We’re brothers. You’re my brother…” His voice cracked open. He sat hunched over, his elbows resting on his knees. I waited until he’d pulled himself together and put my hand on his arm.
“The medication would eventually wreck it, while my body wrecks the second heart thanks to my craptastically rare tissue-type.” I chucked him on the shoulder. “So keep your damn internal organs to yourself.”
He laughed then. A small laugh, but real. “Fine. But say the word and it’s yours. Whatever you want or need…if I can give it to you, it’s yours. Okay?”
“I might have a favor to ask you.”
His head shot up. “Anything. Name it, give me something…”
But the doorknob rattled then. I glanced at it, holding up a finger. “Not now…”
Kacey came in the door, her arms laden with grocery bags. “Hey, my two favorite men in the world in one place. Must be my lucky day.”
Theo got up to take the bags. She smiled and ruffled his hair. Then they were putting the groceries away, bickering lightly the entire time, while I sat on the couch, my smile turned away where they couldn’t see.
We ate dinner at my parents’ house that night, as we did nearly every other night now. Oscar and Dena and Tania were always invited. I wanted my people around me as often as possible.
Early on, Kacey was chatting with Tania, and Dena was helping my parents plating the dinner. Oscar glanced surreptitiously toward the kitchen and pulled his chair closer to mine. He rubbed his hands up and down on his jeans as if his palms were sweaty.
“What’s up, man?” I asked. “You in the doghouse with Dena?”
A smile flickered over his lips, then was gone again. “No, but I could be if I don’t get this right.” He puffed his cheeks with air and said, “I’m going to ask her to marry me.”
I sat back in my chair, my chest flooding with happiness. But Oscar was nervous enough without me getting emotional on him. I feigned total shock. “But Oscar, it’s only been six years. Are you sure? You don’t want to rush into this…”