Once she’s dressed, she wants her mama. Andi gathers her up and cradles her in her arms. I watch the two of them and my heart pinches at how it must be killing Andi to see Violet ill. We have to get her better. There is no other option.
“Let’s get in the bed,” I suggest. “She’s so tired. Look at her eyes.”
“It’s probably the aftereffects of the anesthesia still. Maybe that’s why she threw up. She doesn’t feel warm to me. Does she to you?”
“No, but let’s check her temperature, just to be on the safe side.” I go to Violet’s bathroom and grab the thermometer. Andi scans her forehead, and sure enough, it’s normal.
Andi hands it back to me, saying, “I’m sure it’s a side effect from all the meds they gave her.”
“I hate to say it, but that makes me feel better.”
“Me too.”
I rub Violet’s soft curls and ask her if she wants to sleep with us tonight. The only response I receive is a small nod.
Andi gives me a questioning stare.
“What?” I ask.
“Are you sure about this? She may throw up again.”
“Then we’ll move to the other bed. She’s so pitiful, I can’t bear to send her back alone to her room tonight.”
“I know. Then let’s all snuggle in for the night, shall we?”
Luckily, in the morning, Violet wakes up feeling much better after not having any more episodes during the night. Soon, she’s slapping us both on our stomachs, telling us she’s hungry.
Andi groans, “Well, that’s a good sign.”
“I’ll get her breakfast,” I offer.
“I’ll get her dressed,” Andi says.
By this time, Violet is half-jumping on the bed. She’s not one hundred percent, though. I mention this to Andi.
“It’s probably because she might be a bit sore from the test yesterday.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think of that.”
“They said she’d act a little funny, remember?”
“I do now. And now starts the waiting game.”
“The doctor said it may take up to a week, but it could be sooner.”
“I hope sooner, Andi.”
She grabs my hand. “So do I. Now let’s go feed our daughter.”
After breakfast, we watch movies and hang out with Violet. With each passing hour, she seems to feel better. I notice that Andi is less stressed as well. She even mentions that I should practice the next day.
“I will. But … if you get any calls, you must promise to call me immediately. Will you do that?”
“I will. I don’t think we’ll get a call that quickly, though.”
The following two days we settle into somewhat of a lull. Andi fusses over Violet, as do I, and we play with her as much as possible. I go to practice every day, coming home exhausted. Luckily, I have two home games in a row. But I’ll be on the road next week, which disturbs me. The truth is, my nights are sleepless because I lie in bed, hoping that bad news doesn’t occur for our precious little girl.
It’s a week later that Andi gets the call. It happens, of course, when I’m at practice. One of the coaches calls me off the field and I’m told to go home. It doesn’t take any deduction on my part to figure out what the problem is. I don’t even shower before I jump in the car and go.
When I storm through the door, she’s standing there, waiting.
“Well?”
“He wants to see us. In the office.”
“More waiting, dammit.”
“No. He said to come as soon as we could and he would see us when we got there.”
“I haven’t showered.”
“Go now. We’ll go as soon as you’re done.”
My legs chew up the steps and I set a record for how many minutes it takes for me to bathe. I dress and get back downstairs in no time.
“Where’s Violet?”
“Watching a DVD. Where else? She’s oblivious. I wish I were.”
“Me too,” I answer. “Let’s do this. And, Andi, remember: Team Wilde.”
She gives me a shaky laugh. But I can’t have that, so I pull her up to my chest. “We got this.” I press my lips to hers for a brief kiss. “Have the faith. We can do anything, including beat the worst news. Now stiffen that steel spine of yours.”
“Yes, sir.”
I go into the living room and grab my daughter. “Come on, kiddo. We’re going for a ride.”
We arrive at the doctor’s and they usher us straight back after Andi tells them who we are. We’re given the red carpet treatment and I want to chuckle, only not with humor. I guess you have to have a dreaded disease before you’re treated like this.
They escort us into the doctor’s office instead of an exam room this time. We don’t wait even five minutes before he comes in. He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. I glance at Andi. She notices it too.
“Ms. James, Mr. Wilde, I was hoping for much better news than this. I’m afraid Violet has aplastic anemia. It’s very puzzling to us. We don’t usually see this in children her age. That’s not to say it never happens. But it is quite rare, particularly since hers is the acquired type. We do have treatment for this, but the ultimate cure is a bone marrow transplant. I would like to try the treatment first.”
Andi has done a lot of research already since she’s a nurse, so she pipes in with questions. “For the bone marrow transplant, my understanding is that the best matches are siblings. Is that correct?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Violet is an only child.”
“I am aware. There are a few options. Although it’s unlikely you both would be a match, we can still test both of you, if you choose. And if there are any relatives that would be willing to be tested, that would be a good option. There is also a bone marrow registry.”
Andi looks at me. “We could ask Fletcher,” I say. “And what about Mark?”
Her eyes tug down at the corners and appear pained. “I’m adopted, remember? Mark and I wouldn’t share any genetic markers.”
Shit. Why didn’t I remember that? “It’s okay, baby. We’ll figure something out. Doctor, how much time do we have?”
“We may have years. That’s a question I can’t answer. But it’s best to get this arranged now and not wait until you need it.”
Andi nods. “I agree.”
“We’ve been discussing having another baby.”
Andi jumps into the conversation. “Chase. Not here.”
“Actually, that’s a good idea. That is, if you were planning it anyway. It’s the best option for Violet,” the doctor says. “The first thing I’d like to focus on, though, is getting Violet started on treatment that may bring her blood count up to normal. If that works, then the bone marrow transplant can be shelved for later.”
“Is there a possibility she would never need it?” I ask.
“Yes, if she’s controlled by the drugs. Some cases are.”
“I have one last question, doctor. Would you recommend that we go back to the States to be close to our family?” I ask.
“That’s something only you can decide. But I can say if it were my family and me, I probably would want to be close to them.”
“Thank you. I think you gave me the answer.”
Andi asks, “When can we start treatment?”
“Tomorrow, if you want.”
“Are there side effects?”
“Possibly. But not any different from her being ill, and as soon as she begins to feel better, those side effects should dissipate. We’ll be using bone marrow stimulants because we want her bone marrow to start producing new blood cells. We’d also like to give her transfusions if necessary.”
“Is that safe?” I ask. I’ve always heard about the risk of disease transmission through blood transfusions.
“There are always risks associated with it, but we’ll only do them if we think it’s medically necessary.”
Andi says, “Can we start with the marrow stimulants?”
“Yes. Can you bring her here tomorrow? These are given either by IV or injection. I want to discuss her treatment with another hematologist before I decide on which stimulant to begin. And after she receives it, I would prefer for her to remain here for a few hours to monitor her for side effects.”
We leave with an appointment for eight o’clock the next morning. I’m sure Violet won’t be happy, but we are both praying these drugs work. In the meantime, we have to make a decision on whether to stay or go home. I can’t stand the idea of us being so far away from our families with no support structure in place.
And then there are all the phone calls that will have to be made. My head aches with the thought of them.
As we pull in the driveway of our house, Andi leans over and presses her lips to mine. Then she says, “What should we do, Chase? I don’t want to pull you away from your career.”
“I won’t have a career if all I do is worry about this.”
Thirty-Five
Andi
Violet is our priority and we spend time playing with her and reading her stories before her precious little eyes can’t stay open any longer.
Chase carries her off to bed and I follow, watching him tuck her in. It doesn’t get old seeing what a great father he is. I shouldn’t be surprised. Even though he never saw himself as a dad, he had such a great role model in his father.
When he kisses her forehead, my heart breaks. The idea that we could lose her kills me inside.
Chase sweeps a hand down my back and to my waist. There is nothing sexual about the move, though my body gets hot every time he touches me. We pass the bedrooms and end up back in the living room.
“I’m very serious about getting you pregnant.”
Though we’ve had the conversation, with the news from the doctor, this decision takes on a whole new meaning.
I meet his gorgeous gaze. “I wasn’t sure at first. I didn’t want to chance bringing another child into the world with this disease, not that we wouldn’t love him or her.”
He nods. “I get it.”
“But the doctor doesn’t seem to believe that she inherited this from us.”
“Does that mean you’re on board?”
“Yes,” I breathe the word like I’ve held it in for weeks, and maybe I have.
He draws me close and kisses the life out of me. As much as I feel his amorous mood lift, there is more we need to do first. I gingerly step back.
“I do think we shouldn’t delay treatment and start it here. If we go anywhere else, they will want to run their own tests and it will take precious time away from getting her well.”
“I agree. No delay,” he says.
“We should probably call our parents first before the time difference works against us.”
He sighs. “Okay.”
I point to the hall. “I’m going to call in my room.” Then I head for it.
The space feels foreign since I’ve been spending all my time in Chase’s bed. I have to push away thoughts of how little time we’ve spent sleeping as I dial Mom’s number. Dad answers.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Hey.” He covers the phone, but I can hear him call out to Mom.
“Jane, Andi’s on the phone.” Then he speaks to me. “I’m glad you called. Your mother and I have something to tell you.”
There is a hint of warning in his voice that suggests bad news.
“Hey, sweetie,” Mom says.
A churning starts in my gut. Mom used her I’m so sorry voice.
“What’s going on?”
I’m not sure how much more of any bad news I can take.
Mom takes over. “Your dad and I felt like you needed to find your birth parents. We decided to hire another private investigator, and we have news.”
Air takes up permanent residence in my lungs. My investigator had come up with nothing. Granted, I hadn’t been able to afford to pay a really good one.
“What did you find out?”
Time stops, as I don’t know what I want to hear. Are they fine? Together or separate? Do they have another family with kids they kept? Will any news be welcome? I’m on the verge of telling Mom I changed my mind and I don’t want to know when she drops the bomb.
“Your father died in a military training accident before you were born. And your mother died last year of a heart attack.”
Tears spill from my eyes for people I’ve never met.
“Do they have other kids or family?”
“No kids on either side. You do have an aunt on your mom’s side. Your father was brought up in the foster care system. The investigator says your father had enlisted around the time you were conceived. He isn’t sure he ever knew about you, though his name is listed on your birth certificate. They were barely eighteen.”
Dad goes on to explain that there is a small amount of money from his job and military benefits sitting in a state unclaimed money account for me to claim. Mom adds they have pictures, but by then I’ve checked out. My vision is cloudy with tears and my heart breaks yet again.
“Andi?” Mom asks.
“I …”
“I know, honey. It’s a lot, and I wish I didn’t have to do this over the phone.”
“I—” But the word gets stuck in my throat.
Using the back of my hand, I wipe at my eyes.
“I need time to think about all of that. But I did have a reason for this call.”
“Okay,” Mom says hesitantly.
I picture my father wrapping an arm around my mother and long for his embrace. I miss my dad. And that’s when it hits me. Though I may never know about my biological parents, I had great parents who loved me more than maybe I deserved at times.
“Thank you,” I say.
“We never meant to keep them from you,” Dad says.
“I know. I love you guys. And I appreciate you doing that. You didn’t have to.”
“We did,” Dad says. “We should have done it a long time ago.”
I shake my head as my tears resume. “No, you didn’t. It was me. You guys have always been enough. I feel awful for making you feel like you had to do this.”
“No, baby, it’s only human to want to know who your parents are.”
“That’s the thing. I know who they are. They are you and Dad. And I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have been given to you.”
Mom chokes. “No, we are lucky to have been blessed with you.”
“We love you,” Dad adds.
I walk to the bathroom for tissues. “I love you guys so much.”
They return the sentiment. When a quiet moment comes, I hate to sour the mood. But there’s no choice.
“Can you put me on speaker while I conference Mark in?”
“What’s going on?” Dad asks.
“I know this isn’t the best of times, but I’d like to say it only once.”
Dad’s easy and agrees without a fuss. I initiate a three-way call and bring Mark on the line.
“Andi,” Mark says.
“Hey, is Riley there?” I ask about his girlfriend.
“No, she’s on the practice green. I’m leaving shortly to meet her.”
“Dad and Mom are on the phone as well. I have something to tell you all.”
They all say hi and then Mark laughs. “Are you going to tell us Chase asked you to marry him?”
I think about all the things that Chase has said, but remember that time isn’t on our side.
“I’ll ask that you keep this to yourself. Chase would like to talk to his family and tell them.”
They agree, though Mark chuckles, sure I’m going to announce our impending nuptials.
“Violet is sick. She has aplastic anemia, which basically means her bone marrow doesn’t have what it takes to produce enough blood.” They gasp. “There are many treatments, but the only cure is a bone marrow treatment.”
“I’ll be tested,” my brother says without prompting. “I’m sure Riley will too.”
“And we will,” Mom
and Dad agree.
“Thank you. I’m just so mad that I—”
The words are lost as I lose the battle to sobs.
“Let’s not go there again, little sister. We will do whatever you need.”
I tell them about staying in Italy at least for now. When I finally hang up, I leave the bedroom and hear Chase on the phone in the living room. My mind travels back to their news about my birth parents and I head to check on Violet. I don’t want Chase worrying about me. He’s got so much to think about himself with his career. His season ends in May, with only a little over a month or so to go. If all goes well with Violet’s treatments, he won’t have to choose between his little girl and his career. Though I know without a doubt what he’d choose.
Thirty-Six
Chase
Mom and Dad are in shock.
“How sick is she?”
“Pretty sick, Mom. She’s starting treatment tomorrow to make her blood count come up.”
“Will it work?” Mom asks.
“We hope so. If not, there is another option.”
“Like what?” Dad asks.
“Bone marrow transplant, but the donor has to be at least a fifty percent match.”
“We’ll get tested,” they both chime in.
“Thank you. I’m going to ask Fletcher too.”
“You know he’ll say yes,” Mom says.
“I still have to ask.”
“Chase, can you come back to the States for this?”
“Mom, right now, the treatment is only an injection.” I explain what it does. “It makes sense to stay here since her doctors have all the tests and everything right here.”
“Do you want me to come? Dad and I are retired so it’s not a problem for us to travel.”
Mom always was hands-on. “Let’s see how this goes. If Andi needs anything, I’ll send for both you and her mom.”
“Okay. But don’t hesitate. I know Jane would want to come too.”
“I won’t.”
“Son, if you need anything at all, just call.”
“I will, Dad. And thanks.”
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