The Gift: A Short Story in the Unrestrained Series

by S. E. Lund

  THE GIFT

  S. E. LUND

  Copyright S. E. Lund 2014

  DEDICATION

  Dedicated to Suzanne, my first editor and the first writer to consider my writing seriously and offer an honest constructive critique. Without your critical eye and supportive words, I would never have seen both the potential in my work and where it needed improvement. You gave me the courage to continue writing despite difficulties in the early years. You will be missed.

  R. I. P.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thanks to my family and friends who supported me during the long hours when I would lock myself into my office with my computer jammed in my face, writing. Without your tolerance, my books would never have been written or finished, but my house would have been a lot cleaner! Many thanks to my editors for all their hard work – any remaining mistakes are all mine!

  Kate

  What possible Christmas gift could you buy a man like Drake? He had enough wealth to buy a small country, although you’d never know it from the rather ordinary lifestyle he adopted. I thought he was worth millions, but it was far more. He never told me exactly how much until we signed a pre-nup, and then I had no choice but to look at the legal papers and calculations. Even for me, who had grown up around old money, it was a huge amount. The corporation was doing exceptionally well.

  As a result, we could have lived anywhere in Manhattan – a new apartment, the most expensive penthouse with a view of Central Park, but Drake wanted to move in to the 8th Avenue apartment and make it our own. Drake sold his apartment in Chelsea, and I gave up my tiny one-bedroom in Harlem and slowly, over the next couple of weeks after we returned from our honeymoon in Nassau, we got the place in shape. We hired professional cleaners, donated most of the old furniture to a local charity, gave the place a fresh coat of paint and updated the kitchen with new appliances and a nice granite countertop on the island, but that was about it.

  Although not huge, the apartment was big enough for now. Drake wanted to combine it with the apartment below us and make it a two story, but that would wait until the tenant moved out. Drake didn’t want to kick him out, so I guess some of his father’s socialism rubbed off after all, although Drake would never admit it.

  I was happy to be with Drake wherever we chose to live but 8th Avenue was special. Not only did we start our relationship there, it also had such sentimental value for Drake. I liked to see him sitting in the huge overstuffed chair by the sound system, listening to his music mixes while reading over files or keeping up on the latest surgical developments in the medical journals. Sometimes, I’d stand in the kitchen and watch him sitting there and think of how lucky I was that I wore those high heels over a year earlier and that I took a chance and contacted ‘Mistress Lara’, despite my fears. I had begun to doubt if I’d ever find someone I could love passionately and completely. Then I met Drake.

  That sunny Sunday afternoon in early November, I leaned against the dining room table and watched Drake sorting through a box of Liam’s things. Dressed in a white cable knit sweater and faded jeans, he looked especially handsome. His hair had grown a bit longer, and fell into his blue eyes and down the back of his neck. My heart did a little flip flop when he glanced up and saw me watching him and smiled.

  He was mine.

  “Find anything interesting?” I said, drying my hands on a paper towel after rolling out pastry for a curry pie I was making. Drake had been putting off going through Liam’s personal possessions for weeks, as if it was too painful to consider, but now he was down to the last box.

  He exhaled loudly. “A lot of old designs he was working on before the company took off. I didn’t realize he was such an inventor. He was always trying to improve surgical implements. He had these old notebooks, and wrote about what parts of a surgical procedure could be automated and what required a surgeon’s judgment. It obsessed him. I had no idea…”

  I glanced over his shoulder at the intricate drawings. “He was really skilled.”

  Drake nodded. “I wish I’d known him better. He was so busy, I was so busy. We hardly saw each other except once or twice a year at Christmas or in the summer.”

  “You didn’t talk on the phone?”

  “He wasn’t big on talking. He tended to want to do things – tinker with his car, fiddle with his designs. He was pretty closed.”

  I sat down on the side of the chair beside him. “I wish I’d known him.”

  He smiled. “He would have been very chivalrous and charming at first but he would have closed up eventually. He was too self-contained.” Drake said nothing for a moment, staring off into the distance as if remembering. “Don’t let me ever get like that. If I ever seem distant, unconnected, or closed off, tell me, okay?”

  He turned to me, his blue eyes dark under a frown.

  “Of course,” I said.

  “Seriously, Kate. I don’t want to fuck up again. Don’t ever hesitate to tell me if I do something to upset you.”

  I nodded, and put my arm around him, leaning my head against his shoulder.

  “It’s sad you didn’t get a chance to visit his grave in Africa when we were there. I feel bad about pulling you away before your term was up and before you had the chance to go to the Ethiopia like you wanted.”

  He closed the box. “We’ll go one of these years. Maybe when you’re finished your thesis.”

  “Whenever you want.”

  He leaned over and kissed me. Then, he pulled me into his arms and we sat nestled together and listened to the Beatles, a mix of their hits from the 60s. One of my favorite songs came on – one that had so much meaning to me. “And I Love Her”.

  “This is my favorite.”

  “I know,” he said and squeezed me.

  “I want to come and listen to Mersey some night when you’re playing it.”

  “We’re playing new material now, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  I smiled. That was a huge thing for Drake – letting me in to his life so completely that I had an open invitation to go to hear them play. I hadn’t gone yet, wanting to leave it as his “with the guys” thing, but I had gone with him to the O’Riley’s for Sunday dinner.

  Now, with Thanksgiving was fast approaching, I was already wondering what I could get for Drake for Christmas. He had everything he could want. He lacked nothing – nothing except his father.

  It was then, as we sat in the living room sorting through Liam’s things, that I decided I’d buy us plane tickets to Ethiopia, hire a guide to take us to the Bale Mountains where Liam’s plane crashed and then the Harenna Forest where Liam’s ashes had been buried. It wasn’t too far from there to Kenya, and the Loisaba Lodge north of Nairobi. We could stay in the lodge for a week and sleep under the stars.

  Drake had talked about a trip to a warm climate in February and was going to arrange his schedule so that we could go for two weeks. I wasn’t taking any classes and was focused on writing my thesis and doing research, so I could take time off with no problem.

  So I had one gift out of the way. We promised to only buy two gifts for each other. It wasn’t that we couldn’t afford to buy more but I wanted the gifts to be personal and special – not just spending money for its own sake. Now, I had to figure out what else to get the man who had everything. Not quite as easy a task as I first thought.

  Drake

  Out of the blue, late in the afternoon while I was at the hospital, a colleague I hadn’t spoken with for at least several months called me, his name showing up on my cell. I was sitting in my office, poring over patient files in preparation for the next day of surgery and pulled out my cell from my pocket, thinking i
t might be Kate but it was Jim Kerrigan, an oncologist who helped with Liam’s treatment earlier in the year.

  “Drake, I thought I’d let you know that Maureen and Liam are back in town for a follow-up and because Liam is having a few issues with his liver enzymes. I know she’s pretty sticky about you becoming involved, but I thought you should know just in case she hasn’t told you. It’s his nine-month check and they have him in the children’s ward to treat the liver issues.”

  I rubbed my forehead, biting back a bitter comment. “Thanks, Jim. I appreciate the heads-up. You’re right about Maureen. She doesn’t want me to see him.”

  “Not really fair, in my opinion, considering you saved his life…”

  “There’s not much I can do, and I don’t want to cause any real issues in their family. I’ll call her and see if I can at least see him from a distance.”

  Jim sighed audibly and I could tell he didn’t agree with Maureen on the need to keep Liam from any contact with me so he wouldn’t be confused.

  “If worse comes to worse, you let me know and I’ll see what I can do to facilitate a meeting. She stays with him pretty much 24/7 but there might be an hour here and there where she leaves him alone. If so, I’ll give you a call.”

  “Thanks,” I said, a sense of gloom settling over me. “I appreciate it.”

  I ended the call and sat staring out my window at the courtyard. I was furious that Maureen was in town with Liam, and with Liam being sick but she hadn’t contacted me to let me know. Liver complications after bone marrow transplant could be life threatening. As his biological father and as the one whose stem cells saved his life, I should at least be told.

  I called Maureen’s cell. Surprisingly, she hadn’t changed the number, although she didn’t answer and my call went to voice mail.

  “Hi, Maureen. I hear through the grapevine that Liam is here for his nine-month check and is having problems with his liver enzymes. Can we talk? You have my number.”

  I hung up and then, despite knowing I shouldn’t, I left my office and went to the children’s ward. I wouldn’t barge in on Liam, but I would go to the waiting room and let the nurses know I wanted to speak with Maureen.

  On my way, and to my surprise, Maureen called. “Drake? Who told you we were here?”

  “Who told me doesn’t matter,” I said, fighting to keep control over the tone of my voice. “What matters is Liam. I want to see his chart, and talk to his team. Considering I saved his life, it’s the least you can do if you won’t let me see him personally.”

  There was silence on the line. I climbed the stairs and waited. I could practically hear steam coming out of her ears, but she held her anger in.

  “I don’t want him becoming confused, Drake. He’s only known one father all his life. Chris.”

  “Chris is his father. I know that. I just want to see him. I could pretend to be just another doctor checking on him.”

  She didn’t say anything for a moment. “You can look at his files and talk to whomever you want. I’ll think about whether you can see him.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I’m coming up right now.”

  “Don’t come into his room,” she said, her voice raised. “I don’t want anything to upset him.”

  “I won’t,” I said, trying to keep my calm doctor voice, but it was hard. I wanted to shout at her. “I promise.”

  I rounded the corner to the Children’s ward, past the brightly decorated wall and play area to the small waiting room across from the nursing station. I went up to the counter and said hello to the nurses there. Just then, Maureen came down the hall from one of the isolation rooms. She arrived at the station and stood beside me, and by the expression on her face, I could tell she wasn’t at all happy.

  She turned to the nurses, who sat staring up at us. “Dr. Morgan has my permission to look at Liam’s files and speak with any of you regarding his care. He is not allowed to visit Liam unless I say so.”

  The nurses glanced at me, expressions of surprise on their faces.

  The charge nurse handed me Liam’s file. “Thank you,” I said. “I’ll sit in the waiting room and read.”

  “You can go into the conference room if you want,” Cathy, one of the peds nurses said. “It’s more comfortable and there’s a desk in case you want to make notes or anything.”

  “Okay. I want to make copies of some of the reports and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

  “Be my guest.”

  I turned to Maureen. “Shall we talk?” I motioned to the conference room.

  “I was busy reading to Liam,” she said. “’The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe’. Maybe later.”

  I nodded. “Call me later and we can talk, either in my office or on the phone.”

  She turned and went back down the hallway to Liam’s room without another word, but by how stiff her back was, I could tell she was holding it in.

  “Do you mind?” I said and pointed to the photocopier in the alcove off the nursing station. “I’ll make a copy for my own files and then I’ll be gone.”

  “Sure, Dr. Morgan,” Cathy said. “If you need anything, let me know.” She smiled warmly at me and I was sure I had her on my side, if things got sticky with Maureen.

  “Can you page me if anything happens with Liam? Any time.”

  She nodded and I went to the photocopier and made my copies. Then, without seeing Liam, I went back to my own office and sat down to read the files.

  According to his notes, Liam’s oncologist wasn’t too concerned about the liver enzymes and admitted him as a precautionary measure, to monitor his meds and to facilitate tests that would take place over the next day or two. So I relaxed a bit, my sense of alarm decreasing just a bit. I lost track of time, reading the files and speaking with his oncologist, and didn’t realize it was well past eight. I usually was home at seven thirty for dinner with Kate. I pulled out my cell and there was no message from her so I called.

  She answered on the second ring so I knew she was waiting for me.

  “Hi, love,” I said, smiling when I heard her voice. “I’m sorry I’ll be late getting home, but I’m at the hospital still. Maureen brought Liam back in for some tests and he’s been admitted to the children’s ward. I’ve been reading over his files and talking to his doctors and lost track of time.”

  “Stay as long as you need,” she said, her voice soft. “I’m fine here on my own. I’ll put your dinner in the oven to stay warm.”

  “What’s on the menu?”

  “Just roast chicken and the usual suspects. Potatoes. Vegetables.”

  “Sounds delicious. I won’t be too long,” I said. “Maybe another hour. Thanks for understanding.”

  “Drake, of course I understand. He’s your son. I’m surprised Maureen is letting you see him.”

  “She’s not. At least, not yet. I hope to wear her down with my charm and debonair demeanor.”

  She laughed at that. “Worked on me.”

  “See you later. I love you.”

  “I love you, Drake.”

  I hung up, a warm feeling in my chest, that was a relief after the revelation of Maureen and Liam’s return to Manhattan without letting me know.

  It was while I was researching liver complications post-bone marrow transplant that Jim called once more.

  “Maureen left for dinner,” he said, his voice conspiratorial. “You could pop down and meet me in his room. I’m going in to do a check on my patients and so I’ll be there anyway.”

  “Jim, I hate to put you in this position.”

  “The boy is your damn son,” Jim said sourly. “It’s the least I can do. Come in the back hallway. The nurses probably won’t see you if I distract them. Come right now, if you want to pop in and see Liam.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  I put my white lab coat on and hung my stethoscope around my neck and made my way back to the children’s ward using the rear entrance, hoping that none of Liam’s nurses saw me in the meantime. When I came up t
he rear stairs, I opened the door and checked down the hallway. Sure enough the portly figure of Jim was standing at the nursing station, and he was no doubt regaling them with his southern charm.

  I was able to slip down the hall to Liam’s room and pop in undetected, going through the anteroom and suiting up so I wouldn’t pass on any germs. Liam was looking really good, compared to how I last saw him and I felt a tug at my heart to see his face when he glanced up from a comic book in his hands.

  “Hello, young man,” I said and went to the side of his bed. “I’m a doctor at the hospital and just wanted to check how you’re doing.”

  “I’m good,” he said and put down his comic while I placed the stethoscope over his heart and listened to his breath sounds and felt his pulse with the other hand. Everything was fine, and I noted they had an IV line in but he was on fluid restriction due to fluid retention. “I’m here for tests,” Liam said. Matter-of-fact. “It’s been nine months since I had my transplant.”

  “You’re a very lucky young man,” I said, smiling at his grown-up tone. “How are you feeling?”

  He shrugged. “A bit tired, but that’s because our plane was late. I’m okay.”

  “Good,” I said. I felt his abdomen, and noted that his liver was slightly enlarged, which was common when the liver was affected. Liam was on anti-rejection drugs and would be the rest of his life. There were occasional complications a while after transplantation.

  Jim popped his head in and smiled at Liam. “Well, hello there young man,” he said with his warm southern drawl. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine,” Liam said, eyeing his comic as if he wanted to get back.

  “My spies tell me that your mom is coming back up with something from the cafeteria. I thought I’d pop in before she gets back and see how you’re doing so I don’t keep you from your treats.”

  I took that as my cue to leave and so I turned to Liam and felt his forehead, brushed his hair, which was now a few inches long and dark like mine.