The Other Side of Tomorrow

by Micalea Smeltzer

  His parents, Tessa and John Werth, describe him as a bright, happy young man who had a promising future ahead of him. Thomas, in his senior year of high school, was being scouted by several prestigious colleges to play baseball.

  His parents have made the decision to donate his organs in this hopes that while Thomas is gone, others will get to live because of him.

  The funeral will be held this Saturday, May the twenty-sixth at Kell’s Funeral Home at three o’ clock.

  His family asks that in lieu of flowers you make a donation to Santa Monica County High School in his name instead.

  I lower the paper and blink at my sister.

  “You think …?” I pause, and she nods.

  “It makes sense, right? I mean, they told you it was a seventeen-year-old and he’s eighteen.”

  I swallow thickly, my heart racing.

  It crossed my mind, of course, to wonder who my donor was, and I knew curiosity would eventually get the best of me and I’d look into it more, but seeing it there, right in front of me, makes it more real than anything else could have, and it hurts.

  While I was happy and celebrating getting a kidney, this family was mourning their son. My chest felt tight and my heart hurt for them.

  It seemed wrong that I should be happy while they lost their son.

  He was a real boy, a guy practically my age since I’d be eighteen in a month, who had a future in front of him. A future that got cut short while mine seemed to be beginning because of him.

  He was Spencer’s friend too.

  We didn’t know for sure, of course, but I didn’t see how the kidney inside me couldn’t be T.J.’s.

  I stare at his picture, his smiling face, and realize his parents are only ever going to remember him like this.

  They’ll never see him get to grow old and get married, have kids, and do normal things.

  But because of his death, my parents get to watch me do those things.

  I look at Harlow, my breathing funny as I fight back tears.

  “I shouldn’t have shown you,” she mutters, trying to take the paper back but I place my hand over it.

  “No, I’m glad you did.”

  “Willa …,” she starts, and I shake my head.

  I stand and grab a pair of scissors, cutting out the article and picture.

  “What are you doing?” she asks.

  “I don’t know,” I answer honestly.

  I climb the stairs to my room and clip the newspaper to my lights where my instant photos hang.

  I stand there, unable to move.

  I stare at the boy who had so much life left to live but doesn’t get to now, and I promise myself that I’ll live my life to the best of my abilities because he can’t.

  I might not have gotten his heart, but suddenly mine seems to be beating for the both of us.

  Willa: Hey, I wanted to say I heard about T.J. and I’m sorry.

  I bite my lip and read my text ten times over, analyzing it like crazy every single time. I hope it doesn’t sound too insensitive but isn’t too much at the same time. I also, don’t mention that I’ve gotten a kidney. Not yet, at least. I know Harlow and Meredith wouldn’t tell anybody, because they don’t feel it’s their business to tell, and it’s not. But since chances seem likely I got T.J.’s kidney I don’t think now is the time to break that potential news to Spencer. Not that I think it’d bother him, but it couldn’t possibly be easy to hear days after your friend died.

  Minutes tick by and I break out in a sweat.

  I flop down on my bed, cover my face with a pillow, and scream.

  I shouldn’t have said anything.

  I sound like an idiot.

  He’s going to think I’m crazy. It’s not like I’m friends with him, why should I be texting him about his dead best friend?

  My phone vibrates, and I dive for it on the end of my bed.

  Spencer: Thanks. It’s … weird. I literally saw him that day and now I’ll never see him again.

  Willa: I want you to know I’m here to talk.

  Spencer: That means a lot … I’m not sure I can. Not yet.

  Willa: I understand.

  Spencer: Would you want to come with me to his funeral tomorrow?

  I hold my breath.nbsp;

  Go to the funeral of my maybe donor? Uh … I might throw up if I do that. I can’t imagine having to see his family mourn for him while I sit there knowing I might have his organ inside me.

  Willa: I’m sorry, but I…

  Willa: I don’t think I can.

  Spencer: I’m sorry I asked. That was insensitive of me. I’m sure it’d be hard for you seeing someone your age like that when … well, when you’ve been through what you have.

  Willa: Thanks for understanding.

  Spencer: I want to see you. I don’t think I’ll be much company, but we’re friends, right?

  Willa: I think we are.

  Spencer: Good.

  I set my phone down, feeling better overall, even if my heart still races at the question he asked me.

  How could I possibly face that family?

  I flop back on my bed, staring at the pages on my ceiling, all the stories that exist in the world—too many for me to possibly ever read them all, no matter how hard I might try.

  Harlow pushes my bedroom door open.nbsp;

  “Come with me.”

  “Where?” I ask.

  She rolls her eyes. “Don’t ask questions, just do it.”

  I stifle a laugh. “All right bossy pants.”

  She sticks out her tongue. “It’s the only way to get you to do anything.”

  She’s right.

  I stand up and follow her downstairs and out the back.

  She plops into the sand, and I do the same.

  “What are we doing?”

  “Wait, you’ll see.” She drapes her arms over her knees and smiles mischievously at me.

  I shake my head. Knowing Harlow, there’s no telling what’s about to happen.

  I cross my legs and dig my hands into the sand. It’s a warm evening and the salty air slides over my bare arms.nbsp;

  The beach has to be the most calming place to live.

  It isn’t long until I understand why Harlow brought me out here, as the burnt orange sun begins to sink beneath the ocean, bathing the world in purples and pinks.

  “Do you see that?” she asks, looking at the sunset. “The sun rises and sets every day. That’s God’s promise to everyone on Earth that when darkness comes, the light will always conquer it. Things might get bad, Willa, and that’s okay, but goodness will come too. You have to have the patience to wait.”

  I lay my head on her shoulder. “Thank you,” I whisper.

  She tilts her head so it rests on mine. “You’re welcome.”

  We continue to sit there, watching the last rays of sunlight sink beneath the midnight-blue ocean.

  “I think you might be a little bit wrong,” I tell her.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe the sunset is supposed to serve as a reminder that the darkness isn’t scary. You have to face it. It’s when you turn your back, when you let fear get the best of you, that the darkness begins to swallow you whole.”

  She’s quiet.

  “All that matters to me is knowing the light comes back. Your sunrise is here, Willa, don’t let it get away.”

  I smile to myself because she’s right.

  My transplant is my sunrise, and I have so much to accomplish before the sun sets again.

  nbsp;

  Saturday, I find myself sitting forlornly by the window in my bedroom that overlooks the street below.

  I can’t help thinking about the family burying their son today.

  A beautiful life cut impossibly short.

  Am I wrong for not going? It’s not like I’d have to tell them, “Hey, I think I got your son’s kidney.”

  A part of me wants to meet them, to thank them, but fear of rejection keeps me at bay, especially today.
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  Perry pushes his nose against my hand, demanding attention.

  “Perry,” I groan at his persistence, but pet him anyway. Immediately, I feel better. I don’t know what it is about pets that make you feel better. They have this calming presence that washes over you.

  Downstairs, the doorbell rings and I hear my mom open the door, greeting whoever is there.

  Feet thud up the steps and then my door is blasted open.

  I look over to find Meredith silhouetted in the doorway, a bag of junk food in her hands and a stack of DVDs under her arm. She kicks my door shut behind her and drops everything onto my bed.

  I don’t move from the window, but Perry goes to inspect the food.

  Meredith puts her hands on her hips, glaring down at me from her impossibly tall height, with her red hair billowing around her shoulders.

  “I’m here to save the day. No more moping. We’re gonna watch movies all day long and talk about hot guys, binge on food that’s bad for us, and I’ll even braid your hair if you’re nice to me.”

  I shake my head, stifling a laugh. “How’d you know?” I ask.

  Her smile falters a little. “Harlow told me what was going on and that you might need a pick-me-up. And who better to do that than me?” She bows dramatically, then crosses the room to me, taking my hands and hauling me up from the bean bag I recline in.

  “Now get your tush downstairs, make us some popcorn, and invite your sister in for some girl time. I’ll get everything set up.”

  I felt down only minutes ago, but already Meredith has managed to turn my feelings around. I know I’m lucky to have a friend like her, one who’s always willing to drop what she’s doing to be by my side.

  “Chop, chop.” She claps her hands and then smacks my butt, ushering me out of the room.

  “Okay, okay, I’m going,” I say, holding my hands up in surrender as I leave my bedroom, Perry trailing behind me. I’m shocked he’d leave the food behind, but I guess he decides seeing what I’m up to is more important.

  Downstairs I find my mom hefting her massive purse onto her shoulder.

  “Oh, good, there you are,” she sighs in relief. “Take a look at this and see if I forgot anything.”

  She hands me the grocery list, and I almost ask why she’s going grocery shopping when I always do it during the week, but then I realize that I can’t drive and until I can she’ll have to unless someone takes me.

  I read over the list and then grab a pen off the holder on the counter and add a few items before handing it back.

  “That should be good,” I tell her.

  She reads over the items I added. “I can’t believe I was going to forget eggs.”

  I shrug. “You haven’t done this in a while. I’m impressed you remembered everyone’s favorite cereal.”

  She folds the piece of paper and sticks it in her purse. “I’ll be back soon. If you girls need anything call me. Your dad went up to see Grandma this morning and won’t be back until Sunday evening.”

  “He didn’t say bye?”

  “It’s a seven-hour drive up to Napa, he left before five this morning so he’d have most of the day with her and tomorrow.”

  “Right.” I shake my head. “How’s Grandma doing?”

  “Oh, you know, the usual.” She waves her hand before swiping up her keys. “Spying on neighbors and calling the cops on loose cattle.”

  I laugh. “She’s something else.”

  “That she is.” She starts for the garage door. “See you in a bit.”

  Once she’s gone I rifle through the pantry for popcorn. I decide to make regular butter popcorn and Kettle corn. After they’ve both popped I put them in separate bowls and carry them upstairs while Perry, of course, follows.

  Pushing the door open to my room I find Meredith has moved my three bean bags in front of my TV as well as dumped all my pillows and blankets onto the floor.

  She pushes a DVD into the player as I walk in.

  “That smells good.” She hops up and takes one of the bowls from me as Harlow comes in behind me.

  “What are we watching?” Harlow asks, shoving her hand into the popcorn bowl I hold then taking a bite.

  Meredith flops into a beanbag and popcorn bounces out of the bowl and onto the floor. Perry dives for it, devouring all the pieces in seconds.

  “Ladies and … gentleman” —she glances at Perry— “first up, we are watching The Proposal, because Lord knows my love of Ryan Reynolds is unparalleled, but can only be overshadowed by my love of Betty White, so this movie is the best of both worlds.”

  Harlow looks at me and shakes her head, stifling a laugh.

  Meredith picks up the remote and skips through the previews while Harlow and I get situated in beanbags on either side of her.

  I pick up one of the blankets and drape it over me.

  My melancholy that’s hung like a dark cloud over my head all morning has disappeared. Don’t get me wrong, my heart still aches, but it’s a little lighter now.

  The movie starts, and the three of us being, well, the three of us, goof off as we watch the movie. Reciting lines and making up our own as we go.

  By the afternoon we’ve devoured all the popcorn and snacks Meredith brought and have raided the freezer for ice cream.

  “Do you feel better?” she asks, putting yet another DVD in.

  I smile and nod. “Loads better.”

  She bites her lip and I can tell she wants to say more, to maybe even talk about why I was down—she knows the reason—but then she decides better of it. I think it’s best not to talk about it right now. My emotions are already all over the place from finally getting a transplant; toss in worrying about my donor’s family and it’s a recipe for disaster. Right now, I have to focus on healing. That’s the most important thing of all, because while I feel amazing that doesn’t mean my body doesn’t have to recover from the trauma.

  Meredith lies back into the beanbag once more and presses play when the screen pops up.

  I’m thankful that her and Harlow have decided to spend the day with me. Not just distracting me, but truly having fun. I needed this.

  The movie has barely started when my mom appears in the doorway of my room. Meredith presses pause so she can speak.

  “Meredith, your mom called and wanted to know if it was okay if you spent the night—you know we don’t mind.”

  “Cool, thanks Kate,” she thanks my mom.

  “No problem. But don’t stay up all night,” she warns the three of us before heading back downstairs.

  “Is your mom trying to get rid of you?” I ask. “When has your mom ever asked for your permission to stay here?” I laugh, because it’s true.

  Meredith rolls her eyes and lets out a dramatic breath. “The last time I invited myself over here for a sleepover she was livid. She’s on this new kick of being like a … punisher parent or something. She told me the next time I wanted to sleepover here I had to ask her permission and she’d speak to your mom. She’s been listening to too many podcasts if you ask me. I think they’re brainwashing her.” She throws her hands up in the air like she doesn’t know what she’s going to do.

  “That’s hilarious.” I hide a giggle behind my hand.

  “The woman is crazy. She can drink a martini before twelve o’ clock but I have to ask permission to stay at my sister from another mister’s house. That’s nuts.”

  “Do you have your stuff, or do you need to borrow some of mine?”

  “Oh, don’t worry, I knew the pushover would give in and let me stay, I already have a bag in my car.”

  I shake my head, but I’m secretly glad she’s staying. I know she’ll keep my spirits high and there won’t be any crashing of emotions to come over me at night.

  She starts the movie once more and our laughter soon fills the room. Sadly, we’re far more amused by each other than the movie, but I think that’s better.

  Meredith lies beside me in my bed, staring up at the ceiling like I often do.


  “I still can’t believe you defiled your ceiling to glue book pages onto it.”

  I snort. “You know, most people would be more concerned by the defiling of the books, not the ceiling.”

  She shrugs. “I don’t love books like you do.”

  “You should give them a chance.”

  “I don’t have the attention span for it.”

  I look up at the ceiling with her, my hands crossed over my chest. “The next time I go to the bookstore I’m getting you the smuttiest book I can find. That you will love. I know it.”

  “Mmm, smut. Now you’re talking my language.”

  We both laugh, and she sobers first.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you in the hospital.”

  She’s already apologized numerous times since I’ve been home. The thing about Meredith is, while she portrays herself as loud-mouthed and without a care in the world, she’s one of the most caring people I know. She’s soft-hearted and loves fiercely.

  “It’s okay,” I tell her for the umpteenth time. “I didn’t feel up for any visitors anyway.”

  “But still … I feel like I should’ve been there.”

  “I don’t care if you were there, I care if you’re here, and I have you. I need my best friend to be by my side to talk to me, to distract me, or even to be a shoulder to cry on if that’s what I need, and you do all those things. That’s more than enough.”

  She turns her head to face me, red locks of hair falling over her forehead.

  “When I was little I used to beg for a sister. It was all I wanted. But I think God knew I did have a sister out there in the world, and that’s you. We might not share the same DNA but we share a heart, and I think that’s worth more.”

  I reach my arms out to hug her and she hugs me back.

  I think it’s a rare thing to have a friendship like ours, like she says we’re more sisters than anything, and it’s something to cherish.

  Three weeks pass with doctor’s appointment after doctor’s appointment.

  I begin to feel like I live in the hospital, like I did in the beginning of my diagnosis, but I’m quick to remind myself this isn’t forever and for a very good reason.

  June comes to a close, school ends, Meredith graduates, and life goes on.