“I can’t leave her.” I look back at my grandmother and see she’s weaker than I am. “Dawson and Declan will take care of her. And I'm taking care of you.” Before I let him walk me to the car, I tug on his hand and lead him to my parents’ tombstones. Then, I lower myself onto my knees, kiss my hand, and press it to the marble stone. “I miss y’all, so much,” I say so only I can hear. I stand and hold Blaze’s hands, and then walk to where Dawson is helping Memaw get settled into his car. Ducking inside, I wrap my arms around her neck and ask, “Memaw, are you going to be okay?” She pats my shoulder and nods. “Yes, dear. I’m going to go to the house and try to get some rest. Don’t worry too much about me, okay? Your ole Memaw is going to be just fine.” I give her neck a tight squeeze and she gives me a kiss on the cheek.
I shut her door and turn to Dawson. “What about you, huh? You okay?” I ask, hugging him. He shrugs. “Under the circumstances, yes.” He places his hands on my shoulders and holds me at arm’s length. “I know you’re worried about Memaw and Bentley, and even me. I know you want to be by our sides every step of the way, but remember to take care of yourself, yeah?” I nod. “I’m serious, Mads. Promise me you’ll get some rest.” He knows I’m just like our daddy and can’t break a promise. “Yes, Dawson. I promise.” He pulls me in and almost squeezes the breath out of me. Then, he mutters, “I know I seem like an overprotective jerk sometimes, but I just worry about you. I love you, Mads.” When he releases me and I catch my breath, I tell him, “I love you, too, Dawson.”
Blaze and I get into our car and he starts to drive in the direction of our home. “Umm, what are you doing?” He looks at me with one eyebrow arched. “What do you mean? I'm taking us home.” I look back and see Dawson following us. “Why? Is that where Bentley is... at home?” He shakes his head. “No, Bentley was admitted, but you need to get something to eat and rest up before I take you to see him.” I huff and roll my eyes. “I’m not a child, Blaze. I’ll eat at the hospital and I’ll rest when we get home tonight. Take me to him,” I demand. He pulls off to the side of the road, puts the car in park, and turns to face me. “He isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, Madisyn. Bentley is going to be in the hospital for a while.”
“What?” I ask confused. I knew he’d begin the second step of therapy in the hospital, but why are they keeping him? Blaze rolls his neck and blows out a breath. “He isn’t in remission, baby. His cell counts are out of whack and he needs a donor, or else…” he trails off. “Or else what?” He’s silent, most likely figuring out how to sugar coat his words. “Or else what, Blaze?” He lowers his head and mumbles, “he could die, Madisyn.” I reach over to lift his face up and turn it to me. “You listen to me, Benson. Nothing is going to happen to Bentley. We’re going to find him a donor.” He swallows hard and nods. “I know… I’m going to find Zane.”
Blaze puts the car back into drive and turns us around. When we pull into the children’s hospital garage, he slams the car in park and punches the steering wheel. “He can’t die,” he croaks. I unbuckle and place my hand on his arm. “Hey, look at me.” He does. “Babe, we’ll find Zane. I’ll call up a PI and book our flight to Nevada. I’ll purchase a space in the local papers to advertise the drive. Bentley isn’t going anywhere. He isn’t going to die—not to cancer,” I assure him. He leans over the console and gently presses his lips to mine. “Do you know how much I love you?” Slowly, I nod and breathe out, “Yes.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “No.You think you know, but you don’t… It isn’t possible for anyone to love someone as much as I do you. My love for you, Madisyn, is immeasurable, unconditional. My love is eternal and I—” I capture his face between my hands and silence him with a kiss. “Don’t tell me I don’t know how much you love me. I know. Blaze, my heart is overflowing with ten times as much love for you as you have for me…”
“Did you tell Papa bye for me? Did you tell him I love him?” Bentley asks with droopy eyes. “I promised you I would, didn’t I? Have I ever broken a promise?” Sleepily, he smiles and shakes his head no. “Exactly,” I whisper, rubbing his hand until he drifts to sleep. Gently, I let go of his hand and stand from the bed. I look around the room and see Keisha rocking in a chair and reading a magazine. Blaze is resting against the wall with his arms crossed, half smiling at me. “Sit with me on the sofa?” He follows my steps and sits down next to me. He grabs hold of my wrists, pulls my hands together, and then lifts them to his lips. He kisses the each of my thumbs and lowers our hands down to his lap. I rest my head on his shoulder and the two of us watch Bentley as he sleeps.
“What’s next?” I ask Keisha, my voice barely above a whisper. She sets the magazine aside, stands up from the chair, and walks to Bentley’s bedside. “They gave him something to make him relax. You know how he reacts to needles,” she chuckles softly, immediately sniffling. “When Blaze left and he heard the nurse mention the spinal tap, he fell to the floor and threw a terrible tantrum. He screamed and cried until he could hardly breathe.” Keisha trails her fingers along Bentley’s arm. “Dr. Kessler ordered a medicine to make him sleepy, which is good, I guess. They’re going to go ahead and proceed with another aspiration and biopsy, but not the spinal tap. Everyone decided it would be best to wait and do it sometime tomorrow. We don’t want to put him through too much at once.”
“Are they going to let you go back with him?” She comes over and plops down beside me. “Nope. They told me I can be with him during recovery, but not during the procedure,” she frowns. “Well, that’s a bunch of bullshit,” Blaze snaps. I don’t bother scolding him for his language, because it’s true. “It’s their protocol,” Keisha shrugs. “But you’ve been back with him before, right?” She exhales, “No, not really. I mean, usually they let me go back until he’s calm, but I’ve never been allowed to stay with him during the procedure—none of them. They’ve always made me wait outside the doors until they were ready to move him to recovery.”
Blaze lets go of my hands, stands up, and strides over to the door. “Where are you going?” He looks to Keisha and says, “I’m going to talk with Dr. Kessler and tell him screw his protocol. He can take his protocol and shove it straight up his ass. That little boy needs you by his side.” Keisha jolts from the sofa and rushes over to block the door. “Have you lost your mind? You can’t go out there and tell him that! It isn’t Dr. Kessler’s decision. It’s the hospital’s policy. Yes, I want to hold his hand, but I understand their reasons for not letting me go back. Besides, I’m not strong enough to watch them drill into his hip. All I can do is wait and pray that he remains asleep throughout the process.” Blaze yanks his shirt from Keisha’s grasp. “You might not be strong enough to sit by his side, but I sure as hell am.” He picks Keisha up and moves her to the side. He opens the door and tosses over his shoulder, “Protocol my ass. Everyone has a price.” He closes the door behind him and Keisha groans. “He is so dang hardheaded. Doesn’t he know that he can’t go around buying people? He can’t do that, ya know.” I shrug. “Maybe not. But, when it comes to our family’s needs, nothing can keep him from trying.”
Blaze returns with Dr. Kessler and the transport team, and as expected, the hospital can’t be bought. I’m thankful Dr. Kessler found Blaze’s approach amusing and didn’t have him handcuffed and escorted off the hospital’s property. Even though no one can be with Bentley during the aspiration and biopsy, Blaze is a great negotiator and got Dr. Kessler to let the three of us wait for Bent in his recovery room. Usually, only Keisha is allowed in recovery. Blaze isn’t thrilled about the doctors turning down his offer, but knowing he’ll be there with Bentley as soon he’s finished calms him a bit.
The anesthesiologist, two nurses, and Dr. Kessler surround Bentley’s hospital bed. “Y’all know the drill,” Dr. Kessler says, nodding us over to join them. Blaze, Keisha, and I go over and join hands with the staff and bow our heads as Dr. Kessler prays, “Dear God, we want to say thank you for allowing us another day, a day you have made and we will not take for granted
. Lord, I ask that you place your hands on the Bensons’ hearts and dull the pain they’re experiencing. Remind them, Father, that you make all things new. Father, you turn what the enemy meant for evil and turn it into good. We ask for your favor and that you’ll anoint each of us with the strength and skills needed to treat this sweet child of yours. God, we ask that you let Bentley’s cancer fade into a quick and permanent remission. We believe in your miracles and we believe in the name of Jesus. Most of all, God, we believe in your healing. Father, we thank you for Bentley and for working within him. In the name of your son, Jesus Christ, I declare Bentley healed. We ask all of this in your precious name, Jesus. Amen.” Everyone squeezes the hands they’re holding and agree with an, “Amen.”
The medical team unlocks the wheels to Bentley’s bed and begins to roll him away. “Will he remain asleep?” Keisha blurts out. Dr. Kessler instructs the team to keep moving and turns his attention to Keisha. “We may have to wake him to get him into the proper position, but I promise you, I’m going to take great care of him. If for some reason he becomes too uncomfortable, I’ll have the anesthesiologist administer a low dose sedative.” He places his hand on her shoulder and looks her in the eyes. “He isn’t going to be alone. You haven’t seen her, yet, but Kayla is scrubbing in and will be holding his hand the entire time.” He smiles a reassuring smile and Keisha exhales a breath of relief. “Thank you, Dr. Kessler.”
Blaze and I distract ourselves by catching up on work. He has a competition in Dallas, Texas in a couple of weeks and I need to get back in the gym—with or without him. Declan has been working with both Dawson’s and my clients since the tornado. Though I’m grateful to him for picking up my slack, there is no way I’m letting him get his hands on my new client. Tomorrow will be the first time I’ve trained a woman. Usually, the ladies underestimate my skills and settle for one of the guys. But, little do they know, I’m more hardcore than both Dawson and Declan. Dawson may be better than me in some areas, but Declan? Pft, he’s no match for me. The very first time we sparred, I got him to submit to my arm triangle. Basically, I choked him with his own arm, and instead of passing out, he tapped.
Like most men, Declan didn’t learn his lesson the first time. Oh, no. He came back to our gym a few weeks later looking for Blaze, who was out grabbing us lunch. Declan saw me working on my speed bag technique, walked over, circled around me, and observed me. And just like Blaze had done years ago, he embarrassed himself when he tried to correct someone who didn’t need corrected.
“You seem to think you know what you’re doing,” he smirks. I lift both hands and still the bag. “Think?” I scowl. He laughs. “You see, you’re doing it all wrong,” he says. I toss my head back and groan, “Not again, God. Please, not again…” I lift my head and glare at him. “Yeah?” He nods. “Would you mind telling me what it is I’m doing wrong?” I ask sarcastically. He either misses out on my sarcasm or completely ignores it. “Not at all. Step aside, sweetheart.” Inwardly, I cringe at his name for me. I step aside and let his body replace mine. Immediately, I notice his posture is terrible. But, I’m not going to mention it just yet. “Your rhythm is off. You’re hitting twice with each hand. What you should be doing is four punches with your right hand and following with your left. Watch me.”
I do. Surprisingly, I’m able to keep a straight face as he improperly demonstrates how I should hit a speed bag. When I can’t take any more of his foolishness, I speak up. “You finished, sweet pea?” He stops the dangling bag and looks at me with scrunched brows. “Excuse me?” he asks. “I asked if you’re finished. I can’t let you humiliate yourself any longer. What you just did… it was absolutely horrific.” He snorts. “You’re kidding me, right? I’ve been doing this shit for years.” He looks me over and adds, “What do you know about hitting a bag, besides the fact its good cardio?” I push him to the side. “Be careful, now… You wouldn’t want your sexist side to show, would you?” I huff and take my stance. “One, I’ve been doing this martial arts thing since I was a little girl. Two, you know nothing. As soon as you stood in front of this bag, I knew it was going to be a disastrous demonstration.”
“Disastrous?” I nod. “Yup. You stood in a boxing stance. You should have squared yourself to the bag with both feet planted equal distance apart. Your rhythm—not mine—is inconsistent. I don’t know who told you four rights and four lefts, but they taught you wrong. The proper way to hit is right-right, left-left. When you do four hits and then switch, you tire your arms too soon. And when you punch, you continuously hit with a hammer fist. You need to throw a straight punch. Hit the bag with your three knuckles and be sure to keep your elbow up. Then, when you circle around for your second hit, hammer fist it.” I show him the motions as I explain them. Before I leave him to go shower, I tell him, “Oh, and for your information, I don’t use the speed bag for cardio. I use it to build hand eye coordination.” As I leave him there to take in how I just blew his jewels off, he shouts across the gym, “Nice to meet you, Madisyn.”
I stop in my tracks and turn back around to face him. “I’m Declan, Blaze’s friend.” The doors open and grab our attention. “Hey, brother!” Blaze walks across the gym and greets Declan with a manly bear hug. “I see you’ve met my girl,” he grins. “Dude, your girl played my ass.” Blaze winks at me. “Yeah? What’d she do to you?” His wink tells me he knows exactly what it is I did to his best friend. Declan narrows his eyes at me. “Dude, your girl led me to believe she didn’t know what she was doing on the speed bag. I mean, I walk into this gym and the only person in here is this beautiful, fit blonde wearing tight shorts and a tank—” Blaze punches him in the chest. “Seriously, man? I have eyes of my own. Believe me, I see what she’s wearing.” Declan chuckles. Blaze shakes his head and gets all serious. “For real, though, don’t laugh. I don’t appreciate you hittin’ on my woman.”
Blaze hooks his arm around my neck and pulls me into his side. “Whatever. It’s not like you sent me a picture of her or anything. How was I supposed to know who to keep away from? I only knew she was your girl after she went all Muhammad Ali on me. You would’ve done the same thing.” Blaze laughs. “Would’ve? Dude, I did.”
Thinking of the devil, my cell rings and Declan’s name displays across my screen. “Hey, Dec. I was just thinking about you,” I answer. “Oh, yeah? What type of thoughts?” he teases. “Shut up. How are Memaw and Dawson?” I feel horrible for not helping Dawson get Memaw settled in at home before I came to the hospital. Dawson is strong, and though he doesn’t show it, I know he’s having a hard time coping with Papa’s death. Unlike myself, who has Blaze to lean on, Dawson only has me. “Your memaw is sleeping and your brother is down in the gym.” Figures. Dawson is a lot like Blaze when it comes to blowing off steam. Both of them take their frustrations out on a bag. I only pray he’s more cautious than Blaze was and wraps his dang hands. “How is Bentley?”
The door opens and Bentley rolls in just as Declan asks his question. Our boy is lying flat on his back with his eyelids closed and cheeks glistening with tears. “Hold on for a second, Dec.” I put the phone on mute and give Dr. Kessler my full attention. “He did well. In fact, he didn’t even flinch when we went in for the aspiration. He did get uncomfortable when we began the biopsy, but I did as I promised you and gave him something to help ease his discomfort. He may be groggy and sore when he wakes up, but that’s expected. Tomorrow, we’ll get the spinal tap. Due to the change in his blood cells, I want to act prophylactically and start a course of antibiotics, after the tap of course. Do you have any questions for me?” The three of us look at each other and shake our heads. “I don’t think so. We’ve been through this a time or two and I think we know what to expect in the days to come. Thank you for taking care of our little man,” Blaze speaks up, shaking Dr. Kessler’s and his partners’ hands. “Big man,” Dr. Kessler corrects him.
I unmute my phone once the doctors leave the room. “You still there?” I hear muffled voiced in the background. “Yeah,
I’m here. So, how is he?” I look over to a sleeping Bentley. “He’s resting. Was that Dawson you were talking to?” He tells me it was. “I’m going to ask you this one more time and I want an honest answer, Declan. How is my brother, really?” He lets out a frustrated sigh. “He’s dealing. You know Dawson, Mads. He doesn’t open up to anyone except for you. I’m going to keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t cause any damage to himself. But until you get here to talk him down, I’m staying out of his range.”
“Sounds good. As soon as Bentley is awake and out of recovery, I’ll be on my way,” I tell him. “I’ll be here. I wasn’t calling you to worry you about Dawson, honest. I wanted to see if you need me to step in for you with Annaliesa,” he asks keenly. “Uh, no,” I laugh. “Keisha’s work let her off to be with Bentley for the next couple of days and I’ll be back to work tomorrow.” I know his motives, and they aren’t to help me. He wants to steal my Brazilian bombshell away from me. “You sure, Mads? It might be good for you to take a few more days off to, I don’t know? Mourn?”
“Declan, you’re not getting her.” He lets out a long, drawn out groan. “I always get the manly chicks,” he complains. “So? I always get the girly guys. Makes us even,” I titter. “Yeah, yeah… Tell Bentley to get better for me, will ya? I’m going to get off here and mansit your brother. We’ll chat soon. Later, Mads.” I laugh at his mansitting jest. “Later, Dec.”
Ten
Blaze
All the lights inside thehouse are out and Declan is sitting on the porch swing. When Maddie steps foot on the porch, she lets go of my arm and runs to her brother. For a moment, I’m confused as to how my wife—who was too exhausted to make it up the steps on her own—can gather enough energy to run across the porch. But, when Dawson lifts his head and I see tears descending down the sides of his face, I understand. Other than myself, Dawson is one of the strongest men in Madisyn’s life. She doesn’t expect him to break down, no one does. Neither of them speaks a word. Silently, they sit and hold the other as if they’re each other’s life line. A small part of be becomes jealous and I have to remind myself that she is his life line. I am hers and she’s the both of ours.
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