“Not yet.” Lydia glanced at him sympathetically. “If I do, I’ll let you know, Daddy.”
He nodded and turned his head to look out the window again.
They would be lucky if they could see anything. The snow was starting to fall harder and it looked like a thick white blanket was surrounding them in every direction. It didn’t help the frantic rate of her heartbeat.
“She must have been really upset to risk coming out in this. Callum,”—Lydia turned her head to stare at him—“How did your mother even know what my mom was talking about? Did you tell her about me?”
“I didn’t have to.” He curled his fingers around hers, eyes remaining on the road. “You know how Robert DeNiro’s character did a background check on every guy his daughter dated in Meet the Parents?”
“Yes.”
“My dad is pretty much the same way. I didn’t have to say anything; he figured it out on his own.”
Her jaw nearly hit the floorboard. “How long have they known?”
“Since the morning they met you.” A sly grin crossed his lips as he slowly hit the brake and came to a stop. “What’s that?”
Leaning forward in her seat, through the sudden blizzard they were experiencing, Lydia could make out the faintest glow from taillights.
“That’s her. It has to be.” She quickly opened her door and got out, immediately greeted by bitter temperatures.
Was it possible that the temperature had dropped that much?
“Holy hell.” Wrapping her scarf tightly around her face, she began trekking through the snow. There were a few inches on the ground already. Heavens, her mother must have been out of her mind to be out in this!
“Wait up, Lyds!” Jeb shouted over the roar of the strong winds.
She would have waited for him—honest, she would have waited for him, but once she realized her mother’s car was upside down, all bets were off.
Running as fast and as hard as her legs would permit in such circumstances, she didn’t slow down until she made it to the back of the car, reaching out to rest her hand against the tire as she tugged her scarf away from her mouth.
“Mama!” She shouted, her voice full of fear. “Mama, are you okay?”
Of course she didn’t really expect a response as every worst-case scenario played through her mind. There was a possibility her mother was gravely injured and couldn’t respond, or maybe she’d just knocked herself out against the steering wheel and that’s why she wasn’t replying.
It didn’t matter though. No matter her reasoning for not answering, Lydia knew she had to get her out of the car.
“Mama!” She fell to her knees by the driver’s side window and peered inside. It didn’t take long for her to realize the windshield was busted. The blood on the shards of glass did nothing to comfort her.
She felt nauseated as she scrambled around to the front of the car and began to search frantically for her mother.
Or possibly even her body.
“Mama!” Jeb shouted when he reached the car. “Where are you?” He ventured to the other side and began digging, hard and fast. “Do you see anything yet, Lydia?”
“No. Just keep looking, Jeb.” She sobbed, shoveling through the snow with her gloved hands. Her fingers were going numb already—what did it matter? She would sacrifice them if it meant she could find her mother, alive and unscathed, but she knew that was not a possibility. She’d been thrown through the windshield. How many people actually survived that?
No. I won’t think like that. Tears stung at her eyes as she clawed through the endless hill of snow, hoping and praying to touch an arm or a foot.
“Mama! Please answer me, Mama!”
“Lydia!” It was Callum. “Lydia, get back in the car.”
Was he crazy? She wasn’t going anywhere until they found her mom. Ignoring him, she moved a few inches over and began grabbing handfuls of snow, tossing it over her shoulder.
“Lydia. Baby.” Callum’s strong arms wrapped around her and he lifted her from the ground.
“No! I have to find her!” She wiggled in his grasp. “Let me go, Callum.”
He tightened his grip around her and pressed his lips to her ear. “Get in the car. We have to get to the hospital.”
“W-what?” She stopped struggling and relaxed against him, breathing heavily. The cold air invaded her lungs and made her body ache even more. “Is she there?”
“Yes. Your father just got the call. We need to go. Now.”
The way he emphasized on ‘now’ sent tiny pulses of panic through her heart. What did he mean by that? Was she dead?
She wasn’t quite sure she could live with such knowledge; being responsible for her mother’s death.
She got back into the car and turned her head to stare at her father. He had his head bowed and was resting his chin against his fist, a pose she’d seen him in more than once. What was he thinking about? Was he angry with her for this? Could she fix it?
“Let’s get out of here.” Jeb said as he slammed the back door and began kicking snow off his boots. “Jesus H. Christ, I’ve never seen so much snow in my life. Are you sure you can make it to the hospital in this weather?”
“You bet.” Callum promised, putting the SUV into four-wheel drive. “Hold on to your asses. This is going to be a bumpy ride.”
Callum was a good driver, impressive in such a storm, and thankfully his SUV could handle the slippery roads and bogus snowfall as they made their way to the hospital. Thankfully, it wasn’t positioned on a steep hill, but rather flat ground and they arrived in the parking lot almost forty-five minutes later.
“All they told me was someone called the wreck in and some firefighters were able to get to her.” Her father explained as they hurried inside. “I guess we’ll find out more in just a minute.”
Huddled around the receptionist’s desk with her dad, brother, and Callum, Lydia waited as patiently as possible for instructions.
I hope she’s okay. She prayed, her eyes closed. Please don’t let her be dead. Please, please don’t let her be dead.
She didn’t even understand why she was so concerned about her mother. It was confusing; to still love someone so much even when they hated her, but her heart was crumbling at the thought of losing the woman who gave birth to her. It didn’t make any sense at all.
“Mr. McIntosh, your wife is in the operating room. They’re doing emergency surgery in an effort to save her life. I don’t know much more right now. If you don’t mind having a seat in the waiting room, I’ll let you know as soon as I have more information.” The nurse, a short blonde, said as she clung to the clipboard between her arms. “If you need anything at all, please let me know.”
“Okay. Thank ya.” Her father nodded, making his way to the waiting room.
“That’s it?” Lydia followed after him. “You’re just going to say thank you and leave it at that? Don’t you want to know what’s wrong with her? Daddy, wait,”—she grabbed his arm and forced him to stop—“she may be dying back there. What if she’s fighting for her life? You just want to sit out here and wait?”
“Honey, there ain’t a damn thing I could do even if I wanted to.” He replied, gazing at her. For the first time since returning home, Lydia realized just how much her father had aged. He looked so old as the worry swirled behind his eyes and his lips anchored into a frown. “All I can do right now is wait for a doctor to come talk to me. They need to be in there with her, not out here talking to me. Just sit down.”
“Sit down?” She echoed softly as he walked away. “Sit down?” Whirling around to glare at Jeb and Callum, she threw her hands up in the air as if to surrender. “Do you hear this? He just wants to sit down! I want answers.”
“And we’ll get them as soon as the doctor comes out, Lyds.” Jeb rested his large hands on her shoulders and gazed at her. “Maybe it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be in your head.”
“She was thrown through the windshield.”
“And no
t everybody dies from that, okay?”
“But most of them do. Jeb, ugh.” She sighed and bowed her head, pinching at the bridge of her nose as the first signs of a headache began to appear. “I don’t want her to die...”
“Don’t think like that.” He pleaded, hugging her against his chest. “I don’t want her to die either, sis, but we can’t afford to think like that.”
“Oh, Jeb.” She choked on the emotions lodged in her throat and it was hard to breathe. Burying her face against his shoulder, she tried to calm herself to the best of her ability, but how was it going to be possible when she knew her mother could die and it was her fault?
“Baby.” Callum whispered from behind them, his hand lightly touching her elbow. “Come here.”
Jeb released her and she turned quickly, finding comfort in the arms of her fiancé while his steady heartbeat soothed her bleeding soul. It had somehow turned into the worst Christmas ever.
“I just wanted our families to be together.” She whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”
“I know.”
“And if she dies, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“It’s not your fault.” Jeb murmured, rubbing her back. “You have to know that, Lydia. Stuff like this happens every day. You didn’t make it snow. You didn’t make her get in that car and take off.”
“He’s right.” Callum kissed her temple and sighed. “Please don’t blame yourself. No matter what happens, I won’t allow that. Do you hear me?”
Of course she heard him. She heard everything happening around them, even her dad as he answered his phone to talk to Laney.
She’d almost forgotten about the people they’d left at the house. Laney was probably worried out of her mind.
“Mr. McIntosh?”
They all looked in the direction of the elderly doctor standing a few feet away from them, a surgical mask resting beneath his chin as he stared at them from behind thick glasses. He looked exhausted.
“How’s my wife?” Her father asked, springing up from his seat.
Holding onto Callum’s arm in a death grip, Lydia glanced back and forth between the doctor and her father, anxious and terrified.
“I’m Doctor Callahan.” He held his hand out and Jeb shook it, then her dad. She would have shaken his hand, but she was too busy trying not to burst out into hysterics. “Your wife was in an accident about an hour ago. Luckily, some firefighters were driving by and they saw her vehicle. I’d like to think that’s the reason we’ll likely be able to save her life.”
Lydia sighed in relief.
“The snow must have caused her to lose control of her car. The car rolled with her and she must have crawled out through the windshield because she has some nasty cuts on her hands. Her pelvis is broken in eight places,”—Lydia winced—“and I had to remove her spleen because it ruptured, probably on impact. She’s lost quite a bit of blood, Mr. McIntosh and unfortunately she has a very rare blood type. I don’t have any stock of what she needs.”
“Oh, god.” Her father wiped the sweat from his brow and cursed beneath his breath. “I knew something like this would happen someday. Ain’t you supposed to have something like that on reserve? For emergencies like this?
“There is some at Duke University and we could get it here quickly at any other time, but the weather won’t allow a helicopter right now.”
“Perfect. That’s just damn perfect.” The heartache in her father’s voice nearly killed her.
I can’t let her die. Lydia swallowed hard and glanced at her brother. He knew what she was going to say; they’d gone to the doctor together plenty of times as children.
“I have her blood type.” She voiced, pulling away from Callum. “I can give her my blood.”
“You’re Rh-null?” He asked in surprise.
“She sure is. We both are. We were told we have miracle blood.” Jeb said matter-of-factly.
“That’s perfect. That’s what we need.” Doctor Callahan nodded down the hallway. “If you two will come with me, we’ll get a transfusion underway. You’re going to save your mother’s life.”
Within minutes, Lydia found herself, along with Jeb, in a small white room with plain walls. There weren’t even any pictures to look at; just two beds, a counter, and everything needed to draw blood. It made her a little nervous, but she knew she was doing the right thing.
“Well, get comfy, sis.” Jeb said as he plopped down on a bed and began unbuttoning his shirt. “I don’t know how long this is going to take, but at least we’ll have each other to talk to.”
“Yeah.” She carefully pulled her shirt over her head, leaving her in a plain white undershirt. She figured the nurse would need as much access to her arm as possible. “Are you scared?”
“Nah. I like needles.” He grinned. “Got myself a few tattoos, you know?” He turned around so she could see the large eagle on his back with McIntosh written above its head. It was such a beautiful piece of art.
“I didn’t know you had tattoos.”
“Surprise.”
“It’s nice. I like it. I want to get one soon.”
“Yeah? What of?”
“A birdcage, I think.”
“Because of Gran?”
“Yeah.”
A light knock sounded at the door and then it swung open. A very attractive nurse with dark brown hair entered the room, her eyes on the clipboard she was holding.
“My name is Anita. I’ll be your vampire.” She joked, scribbling on the paper. “Jebson and Jonathan?”
“Lydia.” She replied, frowning. “My name is Lydia.”
The nurse lifted her gaze to meet hers and frowned. “Oh, I’m so sorry. The social security number we put in to retrieve your records says—”
“It needs to be updated.” Jeb said in defense. “She’s been Lydia her whole life. I don’t care what the records say.”
“I see.” She nodded. “I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you—Lydia, is it? It’s just that...”
“I know. You don’t want to take my blood.” Lydia finished the sentence for her.
She knew that transpeople still had a long ways to go when it came to their rights and privileges. Saving lives by donating blood was something a lot of people took for granted; maybe they just didn’t realize that not everyone was allowed to.
Even though she had lived her life as a woman and had physically become one over seven years ago, doctors still viewed her as a gay man. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t gay and it wouldn’t matter now that she’d only ever had one sexual partner—they still didn’t want her blood because they were ignorant.
“Oh, it’s not that.” Anita sighed in defeat. “It’s just...well, per regulations I am not supposed to accept your blood.”
“That’s a heap of bullshit.” Jeb snapped, sitting straight up on his bed. “Our mother is dying and you don’t want to take her blood because she used to be stuck in a boy’s body? Bullshit.”
“I know and I’m sorry. Trust me, I wish I could change the regulations, but it’s been like that for a very long time. We don’t want to take any risks.”
“Risks, my ass.” Jeb snarled, rolling his eyes. “I can tell ya what, lady. If my mom needs our blood, then you need to be taking it, not standing here degrading my sister for something beyond her control. The only risk you’re taking is letting Mama die. Sounds like a mighty fine lawsuit if you ask me.”
“W-what? No.” Anita stammered, staring at him in bewilderment. “We don’t want that at all, Mr. McIntosh. I’m just saying that we’re not supposed to accept blood donations from persons like...like your sister.”
“Whatever.” Lydia shook her head furiously. “You don’t have to take it. That’s fine. But if my mother dies...”
She refused to cry in front of the nurse. Were there even enough tears left to cry? Biting at her lower lip until it hurt, she focused her attention on her trembling hands instead.
“I’ll just call
that pretty lawyer lady—what’s her name again? Olivia?” Jeb pondered aloud after the nurse left the room.
“What can she do about it?” Lydia asked, putting her shirt back on. “They can’t break the rules, Jeb. Just give them your blood and we’ll hope for the best.”
The door flew open again and Doctor Callahan appeared, his eyes immediately falling upon Lydia.
“Look, what I’m about to say could lose me my job.” He said, dabbing at his forehead with a handkerchief. “But we’re in an unusual situation and I’m willing to do what I must in order to save your mother’s life. She needs blood. She can only have your blood. I know what the regulations say, but to hell with that. I’ve got a life to save.”
Her mouth fell open.
“Get that shirt back off, Miss McIntosh. We’re going to need one of your veins.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Lydia
She awoke to the sound of her cellphone ringing.
It took a few seconds to realize she was in the warmth and comfort of her own bed and there was a pair of strong arms holding her close. She smiled at the thought and carefully scooted away to grab her phone.
The sound of ‘Welcome Christmas’ grew louder and louder until she finally hit the button and placed the phone to her ear.
“Hello?” She said, her voice raspy and thick with sleep.
“Lydia! Are you awake over there?”
It was Tula and she sounded excited.
“I am now.” She cleared her throat and slowly sat up. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine.” Tula giggled. “Is your fiancé around?”
Glancing over her shoulder at the sleeping beauty by her side, she smiled. “Yes.”
“Good, because I wanted to tell you to keep him. Forever.”
“Okay?” She blinked. That was strange. Why would Tula call her just to say that?
As if I hadn’t intended to keep him forever.
“I got a letter in the mail this morning. Apparently the mailman couldn’t deliver it on Saturday because of that insane snow we got, but it made it today!”
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