by Bella Andre
“I was only just pregnant with you when she got that fever—the doctor said it was nothing to worry about—” She broke off on a sob.
“Mom, I’m so sorry.” Taylor hugged her mother, wishing she could take away her pain.
“Once I had you, and then your brother, I prayed I would never hear another doctor tell me one of you was ill. But I couldn’t stop worrying. It’s why I always tried to keep you close. To make sure you stayed safe. I was terrified when you moved away, when I couldn’t keep watch over you, but the truth is that you’ve flourished, honey. Flourished without my hovering over you every second. But then…” More tears fell. “How can it be fair? How can you be sick? Wasn’t it enough for us to lose Emily? To go through that pain? I would give anything, anything, to make you well.”
“Mom, you’ve been amazing.” Taylor gently wiped away her mother’s tears before drying her own. “Everything is going to be okay.” She had said it so many times, but she’d never hoped for it to come true more than she did right at this moment. “And thank you for telling me about my sister.”
“I should have talked to you about Emily a long time ago.” Her mother was clearly drained from all the emotion. And yet, Taylor couldn’t help but think there seemed to be a new strength to her now, perhaps from finally letting the pain of the past go, even if just the slightest bit. “I love you, honey, and no matter what you decide, I’ll try to support you. I have to warn you, though, it may not be easy if you make decisions that aren’t what I would want you to do. Which is why I reserve the right as your mother to go to the mat with you about pretty much anything.”
Despite the tears they’d both just shed, Taylor had to laugh.
“Now,” her mother said as she stood abruptly, “since you and Justin already have plenty on your plates, and I know I’ll only be in the way if I stay, I’m going to collect Bruce and head back to the airport to get us both on the next flight home. Please, just promise to let me know the test results the moment you get them.”
“Of course I will,” Taylor said, “but you don’t have to go.” For all her intent to be strong and grown up, now that Caroline was planning to leave, Taylor suddenly felt like a little girl again. One who wanted to cling to her mom for dear life.
“Don’t worry, your father and I are planning to come out for a long visit in the near future. But for now, I can see that you have everything well in hand. And Justin—” He had risen at the same time, and she reached out to clasp his hands in hers. “I may not always have been your biggest fan, but I can see you genuinely care for my daughter. Thank you.”
“You’re the one I need to thank,” he said, his voice slightly gruff. “You raised an incredible woman. You and your husband should be very proud.”
“We are.” Caroline pulled Taylor into her arms, and as they held each other, Taylor felt closer to her mother than ever before.
Ten minutes later, when her mom and her ex were on their way back to San Francisco, Taylor sank onto the couch. “That was exhausting.”
“And awesome.” Justin put his hands on either side of her face and kissed her once—softly, sweetly. “You really impressed your mom when you told her it was time to let go.”
“I’m afraid I hurt her.”
“You didn’t. At least, not in the long term. I can’t believe that she would have raised a strong, independent woman to be anything but exactly that.” His phone dinged in his pocket. “It’s time to meet with the donor.”
He didn’t ask if she was up for it, and she appreciated that he didn’t. If he was certain that she was strong enough to deal with what came next, no matter how difficult, then she was going to do her best to believe it too.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Justin didn’t try to liven up their drive today the way he had when they’d gone to UC Davis. He was still gunning to be Taylor’s donor, but she clearly needed a little time to process. Especially after her mother and ex-boyfriend’s unexpected visit this morning.
If he could have rescheduled this meeting, he would have. But speaking with a donor was an important part of the evaluation process, and the transplant center wouldn’t let him proceed until he’d talked with at least one. Plus, he really hoped that hearing what the donor had to say would help Taylor wrap her head around him helping her this way.
“Before we go inside,” Taylor said after Justin had parked the car, “I just want to make sure that if hearing this woman’s story gives you any doubts about donating a kidney to me—for any reason at all—you’ll promise to tell me.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to say, yet again, that he didn’t have any doubts and that nothing could possibly change his mind. But knowing that wouldn’t help his cause, he simply said, “I will.” And, of course, he had to kiss her. A soft and sweet but also deliciously sexy kiss. He hoped it would help settle her nerves. Or, at the very least, give her something else to focus on.
“You’re amazing, Justin.” He was glad to see a small smile playing on her lips. “Here I am freaking out about everything—and then, with one kiss, you make me almost forget what I was worried about in the first place.”
“Almost?” He brought her mouth back to his so that he could whisper against her lips, “Hopefully, this one will make you completely forget.”
God, how he loved the little sounds of pleasure she made. If they were anywhere else, at any other time, he would have driven away to find a place where they could see their passion all the way through. But the dinging from his phone was an insistent reminder that pleasure would have to wait a little while.
Taylor fixed her hair with the help of the mirror on the visor. “What are the odds she was looking out the front window and saw us making out?”
Thankfully, from the amused tone of Taylor’s voice, she didn’t seem particularly worried about it. “I don’t know about her,” Justin said, “but I’m thinking that guy over there certainly enjoyed the show.” He was grinning as he pointed to a man raking leaves at the far end of the street.
“And to think that my mother wasn’t always your biggest fan, when you’re always such a good influence on me,” she teased as they got out of the car.
Hand in hand, they walked up the stone steps. Taylor rang the doorbell, and seconds later, a petite woman with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes opened the door. “Welcome! I’m Debra, and I’m really glad you both could come meet with me today.”
“Thank you for meeting with us, Debra. I’m Justin Morrison, and this is my girlfriend, Taylor Cardenes.”
They both shook her hand, and then she led them inside her home, a striking contemporary with a vineyard behind it.
“Your home is beautiful,” Taylor said, taking in the floor-to-ceiling windows and gleaming wood floors.
“Thank you. My husband and I just finished remodeling. For most of the past year, we’ve lived in the barn out back.” She pointed to the barn, which had been converted with large windows throughout. “I run my candlemaking business out of it, so it’s good to have a little separation between work and play now.”
“I’m sure you’re busy,” Taylor said with a nervous smile, “and we don’t want to keep you too long…”
Waving away Taylor’s concern, Debra said, “I’m always happy to meet with anyone the Davis transplant center sends my way.” She gestured for them to come sit down in a sunroom. “I just made this lemonade from the Meyer lemons in my garden.” She poured them each a glass, and Taylor took a big gulp before setting it down.
“How about I tell you my story,” Debra said, “and then you can ask whatever questions you like.”
“That would be great.” Justin held Taylor’s hand firmly in his. He could feel her trembling, just enough that only he could tell.
“My friend Maya was like you, Taylor. She was the picture of health—vibrant, pretty, with no outward signs that anything was wrong. We were roommates ten years ago, and sometimes she would stay in on the weekends, saying she’d had a hard week at work and just wanted
to chill, but there was never anything that made me suspect she was unwell. Not until I came home early from a business trip and found her on the couch, crying. You have to understand, she was one of the toughest people I’d ever met, so I knew something was wrong. Really wrong. That’s when it all came spilling out, that she had PKD and her kidneys were shutting down. She was weeks away from dialysis, and she was scared. Not only about the disease, but also because she didn’t feel she had any other options.” Debra paused to take a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, even now, when I think back to how sad, how lost she was. I get all choked up.”
“Please,” Taylor said, “don’t apologize for anything.”
“We can’t tell you how much we appreciate your opening up your home to us and telling your story.” Justin squeezed Taylor’s hand. “Especially since I know exactly how you felt that day. I only found out about Taylor’s diagnosis this week.”
“There’s nothing like realizing that all that time, someone you love has been getting sicker and sicker, and you didn’t even know,” Debra agreed. “When I asked Maya how she could have been so ill without telling any of us, or asking for help, she told me she didn’t want to ask anyone she knew for a kidney. That it was too much, too big a favor to ask of anyone she loved. We argued about it, of course. I told her I would get tested immediately, even though she told me not to. And when it turned out that I was a match, and I insisted on donating a kidney to her, there was some yelling and crying—but in the end, she realized I was serious, that I wouldn’t even freak out about having to write a will before the procedure.”
“Wait, what did you just say?” Taylor’s eyes were huge. “You had to write a will?”
Debra nodded. “Every living donor has to know there is a risk that they might not wake up from the surgery. It’s a tiny risk, of course, but you can’t ignore it.”
“Taylor,” Justin said, “the risks of surgery are the last thing I’m afraid of.”
Debra looked between the two of them, obviously taking stock of the situation. “Half the time, when people come to see me and hear my story, it’s the potential donors who are unsure about taking this step. But the other half of the time, it’s the people who need the transplant who are deeply conflicted.” She looked at Taylor. “I take it you’re having misgivings about allowing Justin to donate his kidney to you?”
“When I was first diagnosed,” Taylor said, “and I started to read through the material my doctors gave me about living donors, it made me so queasy to think about anyone making that sacrifice for me that I never actually got all the way through it.” Her face was pale as she added in a hollow voice, “I had no idea about the will.”
“I’m not going to lie to you,” Debra said. “It can be tough for both parties. My parents were…” She paused to search for the right word. “Let’s just say they weren’t exactly pleased with my decision. My mother must have found every horror story out there, every transplant that had ever gone wrong. On the plus side,” she added with a quirk of her lips, “I definitely knew what I was getting myself into.”
“Did you ever want to walk away?” Taylor asked.
“Sure.” Perhaps Justin shouldn’t be happy that Debra sounded so matter-of-fact about it, but he was glad she wasn’t pulling any punches. The more information Taylor had, the better, even if all of it wasn’t sunshine and roses. “I’m not a huge fan of hospitals or needles,” Debra told them. “And in the middle of the night, those horror stories my mother found kind of got to me.”
“But you went through with it anyway?” Taylor sounded as though she could barely believe it.
“There have been a few times in my life when I knew something was right,” Debra explained. “Falling in love with my husband. Having my kids. Starting my business. And helping Maya—it was one hundred percent the right thing to do, and I’ve never regretted it.”
“But what if you get sick one day?” Taylor asked. “What if your remaining kidney fails?”
“If that happens, I’ll just have to hope someone will come along to help me the way I helped her.”
“What about Maya?”
“She’s doing well,” Debra said with a smile. “At least, she was the last time we talked.”
“Are you not close anymore? Even after you gave her a kidney?”
“Don’t get me wrong, she’s still super grateful. No birthday or anniversary or holiday passes without lavish gifts for me and my husband and kids. Too lavish, if you ask me. But just like everyone else, our lives are busy. I’m here, she’s in Paris, and we both have our own families and businesses. We’ve seen each other when we can over the years, but she knows I’m not expecting her to be beholden to me for the rest of time. If I wasn’t willing to donate without strings attached, then I shouldn’t have done it.” Debra turned her focus to Justin. “You’ve been pretty quiet over there.”
“As a scientist,” he said, “I prefer cut and dried, black and white, yes and no. But the deeper I go into all of this with Taylor, the more I can see that it’s a complicated situation.”
“For both of you,” Debra agreed. “One minute you’re confident, the next you’re scared out of your mind. Hope turns to doubt in an instant, and then back again, like you’re on a merry-go-round that’s spinning out of control.”
“That’s exactly how I feel,” Taylor said. “Up then down, forward then back, inside then out. I mean, I’m stuck in this situation no matter what, but Justin isn’t. And when I think of the risks…”
Debra reached out to put a hand over Taylor’s. “I wish I had the magic words to make it less confusing. I don’t, but if you have any more questions at any point, I’m just down the road.”
“Thank you.” Justin and Taylor laughed as they both spoke at the same time, then stood to say their good-byes.
“I hope you’ll accept a little gift from me,” Debra said, handing them each a candle at the front door.
Taylor lifted hers to her nose to inhale a slightly spicy mix of lavender and rosemary. Justin’s smelled just as good, like freshly picked lavender. “They smell incredible, and I love their shape. It looks so organic.”
“Since I use natural ingredients for my molds, they break down a little bit with each candle. I figure since nothing is perfect,” Debra said, “there’s no point in pretending. Not even with candles.” She gave each of them a spontaneous hug. “I know it might not be easy, but something tells me you two are going to come out of this okay. Good luck.”
Justin was feeling good about their visit as they walked to the car and got in. Debra hadn’t painted a perfectly rosy picture, by any means, but overall, it was obvious that no matter how she weighed the pros and cons, even with the distance of time, the positives of her experience far outweighed the negatives. It was, he hoped, exactly what Taylor needed to hear.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
On the verge of pulling out onto the street, Justin put the car into park and looked at Taylor with alarm. “What do you mean? Did something Debra said freak you out?”
“You mean in addition to the whole making a will thing?”
That had been pretty bad. But he’d assumed Taylor had already read through all of the material on donating. He wouldn’t make any more assumptions going forward. “Yeah, something else.”
“I don’t know.” Taylor scrunched her eyes shut and ran her hands over her face. “Actually, I do. From here until tomorrow, can we make a pact not to talk about any of this? Can we just pretend for the next fifteen hours that I’m perfectly healthy and that you’re my new boyfriend and we’re having a romantic weekend together in the wine country?”
Justin knew time was of the essence. Every phone call made today, every doctor visit, every bit of reading and scheduling and planning could be immeasurably helpful going forward. The opportunity cost of postponing any of it was bigger than he wanted to imagine.
And yet…
He could see how worn down Taylor was by it all—and he also knew that the additional
stress couldn’t possibly be helping. So even though it went against every last one of his science-based instincts, if it was romance she needed tonight, he vowed that romance was exactly what she would get.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Taylor was glad for the routine of setting up and serving afternoon tea for her guests. Making a batch of cookies, pouring wine, having a little light conversation, giving sightseeing tips and recommendations—it was all so normal. For an hour, she could be a B&B owner with not a care in the world other than making sure her guests were happy and her business was thriving.
Justin made himself scarce for most of the afternoon, and though even a handful of hours without him made her miss him—how had she made it through five years?—she knew he must need some time to decompress. They hadn’t spoken about his mini-breakdown in the shower last night, but she couldn’t forget the shaking of his broad shoulders as he’d bowed his head, held on to her, and finally given himself a break from being a pillar of strength and let some tears fall.
Today, nothing Debra said had seemed to faze him, but surely he must have some doubts, even if they were tiny. Then again, she seemed to have doubts enough for both of them. So many that she’d been unable to hold in yet another freak-out in the car after their meeting…
Her guests had all gone out to dinner in town by the time she finished washing and putting away the last of the teacups, wine glasses, and champagne flutes. She loved her B&B when it was bustling with happy voices, but tonight she was more than ready to head back to her cottage, draw a bath, and read a book. Whenever Justin got back, she’d welcome him with open arms and apologize for her totally unreasonable request—no matter how much she wished they could pretend that they were having a romantic weekend in the wine country, they couldn’t. One day maybe they’d be able to steal that time together, but for now she had to accept that doctor visits and medical tests took priority over everything else.