“Yes. Like I said, we thought she was in remission, but the cancer came back right before Christmas. So much for happy holidays, huh?” Dani’s voice broke and Trevor reached for her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. She was so grateful for his support.
“I got the opportunity to meet Kaylen a few weeks ago, when some of us made a visit to the hospital,” Trevor said. “And she captured my heart.” He smiled sheepishly. “Maybe because she said I’m her favorite player. I don’t hear that too often.”
Char laughed. “Oh, I’m sure you have your share of fans. More than you realize.” She picked up a pen and began making some notes. “I love those visits to the hospital, and I want you guys to do more of them, but I’m guessing you’re looking for more than just cheering up sick kids right now.”
“I’m afraid so,” Trevor said. “It was originally going to be more financial. Dani’s strapped with medical bills, and I’m sure most of the other parents are, too. I hoped maybe we could put some sort of fundraiser together and raise money for hospital costs. That was my thought when I asked for this meeting, but unfortunately things have changed.”
“How so?”
“I just found out that Kaylen’s chemotherapy treatments aren’t working anymore,” Dani explained. “She needs a bone marrow transplant.” A few hours had passed since she got the news, yet it was still sinking in. Thank goodness she’d run into Trevor. Knowing she had his strength by her side helped Dani believe she would get through this. They would get through this. Together.
“We need to find her a donor,” Trevor said. “We need as many people as possible to get tested to see if they’re a match. I bet I can persuade a few of the guys on the team, but with the foundation’s backing and a little press, I’m sure we’d get a lot more.
“That we can,” Char agreed. “Okay, let me get some more info from you, and I’ll see what I can do.” She looked at Dani. “I’ll give Jess Rowan a call. You said you know her, so that may help.”
Now Dani wondered if it was such a great idea to mention the news reporter’s name. “I don’t know her well. I’ve met her a few times, but only because her brother is an associate attorney at the law firm I work at.”
The foundation director shrugged. “It’s better than nothing. Once of the reasons I succeed at my job is because I’m not afraid to use any connection I have. Jess and I went to St. Mary’s together, so she’s usually my first contact with the media, but I have other contacts. I’m confident we can do something.”
“We have to,” Trevor said. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped at the screen before passing it to Char. “This is Kaylen. This is who we’re fighting for.”
“What picture is that?” Dani wanted to know.
Trevor turned to her. “The one you sent me the other night. I didn’t even get it until after the game was over, but somehow I think I knew she was watching, and she willed us to victory.”
Dani thought it was a little over the top, but Char gave them a reassuring smile. “You convinced me,” she said. “I’ll put the word out and see what we can do. We’re going to find your daughter a donor.”
“I hope you’re right.” Dani wiped a tear from her eye, feeling hope for the first time that day.
Chapter Eleven
Dani didn’t expect quick, easy success in the quest to find a donor match for Kaylen, but it still hurt to find out the news that she, herself, wasn’t a close enough match.
“It’d be extremely rare,” Dr. Cook explained. “It’s about a one in two hundred chance that a parent with be histocompatible with their child. “The most likely possible match would be a sibling of Kaylen’s.”
Dani knew that. She’d read a book about it once. A couple conceived another child for the specific purpose of having her be a bone marrow donor match for her sister who battled leukemia. It made for an intriguing plot line for a book, but now hit way too close to home. “That’s impossible, then,” she informed the doctor. “Kaylen’s an only child.” And she couldn’t exactly change that fact in time for it to matter, moral questions aside.
Dr. Cook nodded. “Yes, I know you said that. If a relative isn’t an option, we will do our best to find an unrelated donor match.” She hesitated before continuing, “If there are relative options, though, such as a cousin, or the other biological parent, that should be considered as well, they should be tested, so I hope you’ll let them know.”
“Yes, of course,” Dani managed to say, all while her world managed to spin completely out of control. The rest of the conversation passed in a blur. Sure, the donor registry might be an option, and the Generals Foundation might be able to help raise awareness. That was all well and good. There was only one option that Dr. Cook mentioned that resonated with Dani. The other biological parent, even if it was a long shot. Sometimes the truth hit too close to home.
Her head was still reeling from the conversation as she left the conference room, and Trevor placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. Keep the faith.”
He’d been her rock for the past few days as the donor search got underway, and Dani wanted to believe he was right. Still, she was tired and scared, and the combination made it hard to stay positive. “I keep hearing that, and I’m trying...”
Trevor took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know you are, and I’m here for you. The team is here for you. We’re going to do everything we can to help Kaylen,” he said. “I think you need to think about what the doctor said, though.”
“What do you mean?” As if Dani didn’t already know.
“Kaylen’s father. I know you said he wasn’t really in the picture, but how long has it been since you’ve spoken to him? Can you get in touch with him?”
“I don’t know. I suppose, if I have to,” Dani hedged. “But what good would it do? You heard what Dr. Cook said. The likelihood that a parent will be a march for their child is small...”
“I heard that, yes,” Trevor said. “But still, don’t you think he should know what’s going on? Whatever may have happened between the two of you, she’s still his daughter. If it were me, I know I’d want to know. And what if there is a half-sibling out there?”
If it were him, he’d want to know. Dani swallowed hard. Would Trevor still feel that way in a minute? Most likely, yes. He’d want to know his daughter. He’d hate her mother, but he’d want to know that he had a child. And he was right. He had a right to know. Dani would just have to suffer the consequences of the choice she’d made twelve years before. “You’re right, of course.” She took a deep breath and looked Trevor square in the eyes. Truth time. “Is there a half-sibling out there, Trev? Do you have any other children?”
***
What was she talking about? What did it matter if Trevor had any kids? It took a minute for Dani’s words to sink in, and one word in particular. Other. She’d asked if he had any other children. As in... Trevor shook his head, the implications still not fully processing. “What are you talking about, Dani? You said Kaylen’s ten.” And they hadn’t seen each other, much less been together, for twelve years, when she’d said she wouldn’t accompany Trevor to Ottawa while he pursued his NHL dream.
“Yes, I did. I lied, Trevor. She’s twelve. She turned twelve in December.”
Twelve. Since he’d never known Dani to be the type to sleep around, that could only mean one thing. She’d been pregnant when Trevor left San Antonio for Ottawa, and his big chance with the Senators, and she’d never bothered to tell him the truth. “Are you saying what I think you are?”
He waited for her to deny it, maybe lie again, tell him there had been somebody else. Instead, Dani merely nodded. “Yes. She’s your daughter, Trev.”
Trevor’s knees suddenly felt weak, and he leaned against the wall to try to steady himself again. What the hell? It was all so much to take in. He had a daughter he’d never known about, and she was beautiful and special, and he already loved her before he knew the truth. She was also extrem
ely sick, possibly dying, and the idea that he might lose her so soon after meeting her made Trevor furious, both at the cruel hand of fate that Kaylen seemed to have been dealt, and the woman who’d lied to him for a dozen years. Mostly at her.
Dani stood before him, her eyes glossy with tears and her expression scared. Part of him wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her. After all, she was hurting, and Trevor loved her. He always had, and probably always would. But even if the love was still there, right now it simmered beneath the surface of the anger, which bubbled to the top. He couldn’t get past the anger.
“Say something, Trevor.”
“Say something?” he repeated. “Okay, sure. I have a question. Several, actually. First, did you know you were pregnant when I left San Antonio, and asked you to come to Ottawa with me?”
She looked at the floor, then raised her head and nodded. “Yes.”
Trevor nodded. It was exactly as he suspected, and that stung even more. If she hadn’t found out until later, he might have understood. A little. But to know, and deliberately lie, or conceal the truth? That was far worse. “I see. And did you ever plan on telling me?”
“I just did.”
“Yeah, because your hand was pushed.” He took a deep breath. Lashing out at her in the middle of a busy hospital corridor wouldn’t help. “Tell me something. If not for this, if not for her illness, would you have ever told me the truth? What if my life hadn’t gone to shit a year ago and I still lived in North Carolina?”
Dani hesitated, and the silence spoke volumes.
“Great. Thank you. I guess I know where I rate now.” His words were clipped.
“It’s not like that. It’s—”
Trevor held up a hand. “Save the excuses. Save the attempt at rationalization. I don’t want to hear it right now.” He couldn’t imagine any excuse she could give making him feel any better. No, it would probably make him feel worse.
“Fine.” Dani wiped her eyes. “It doesn’t matter now, anyway. I just need to know... you know, about siblings.”
“Right. Whether I have any other children.” Trevor shook his head. “Nope. At least I’m pretty certain no other women are lying to me about long-lost kids.”
“Touché,” Dani said, then sighed. “So where does that leave us?”
He didn’t know what she meant by ‘us’ and wasn’t sure he wanted to. “Back where we were, it seems. Our daughter needs a bone marrow donor.”
“Will you get tested?” Dani asked. “I mean, I know it’s a long shot, but...”
“Yes, I’ll get tested,” Trevor answered without hesitation. He’d already planned to even before this news. Just because. She was a sick girl, and once upon a time he’d loved her mother. “Of course I will.”
Dani exhaled a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for Kaylen.” Trevor walked past her to the elevator.
***
“Trevor, wait!” Dani called after him, but he didn’t turn around, instead disappearing onto the elevator, leaving her alone. Again. She should have been okay with it. After all, she’d gotten used to it over the years. Except then she wasn’t truly alone, because she always had Kaylen, and as long as she had Kaylen, Dani always believed that everything would be okay.
Now she was faced with the very real possibility that if they didn’t find a donor match, she might not have Kaylen much longer, and even if a donor was found, a successful transplant was by no means a certainty. And the one person who was most in a position to help her was now furious with her. Well done, Dani. Nicely played. Not.
She didn’t blame Trevor for his anger. After all, she’d kept him from his daughter for a dozen years. Dani had convinced herself over the years that she’d made the right call, but spending time with Trevor over the past few weeks had caused the doubts to creep into her mind. Trevor had endured his struggles, that was for sure. Still, there was no denying the maturity and insight he exhibited now, nor the concern for Kaylen. Had Dani made a different choice a dozen years ago, would things have turned out differently? Would Trevor have turned into a devoted family man, even at the age of twenty-one, and avoided all the troubles that had plagued his NHL career?
Dani thought of an expression her late father used to say. If ifs and buts were candy and nuts, we’d all have a Merry Christmas. No, there was no point in wondering what might have happened ‘if’... she’d made her choice, and she’d suffer the consequences. She couldn’t worry about Trevor Collison right now, not when she had other concerns. Like finding a way to help her daughter. Dani had been handling things on her own for years, and she’d handle this, too. What choice did she have?
She forced a smile onto her face as she walked into Kaylen’s room. She wouldn’t let her daughter see her in a moment of weakness. “Hey, kiddo, how are you?”
Dani expected Kaylen’s usual, upbeat answer. Instead, her daughter answered, “I’m scared. What if we don’t find me a donor?”
Was her daughter’s fighting spirit now diminished? Dani wasn’t ready to face that possibility. “We will, honey. We will.” She walked to the bed and took Kaylen’s hand in hers. “Everything’s going to be okay. We’ve been through a lot, the two of us, and we’ll get through this, too. Just the two of us.” Even if her heart wanted more.
Chapter Twelve
San Antonio won its next two games, setting up a decisive regular season ending game at Nashville. The Generals currently stood two points out of a playoff spot, but held the tiebreaker against San Jose, creating a ‘win and you’re in’ scenario for the final playoff spot. For an expansion team, it was an impressive feat, and certainly more than most in the Generals organization expected from the inaugural season. Especially given the way the season began, with a 7-1 loss to Montreal, which included the ejection of Generals’ captain.
Colton had grown into his role as team captain, proving to be a leader on and off the ice, and the team had a good mix of energetic youngsters and veteran players. Trevor loved every minute of being part of this team, and hoped to continue to be for the next several years. Hockey had been his salvation during the darkest moments of his life, and had become that way again over the last several days as he tried to absorb the shocks.
He’d done as promised and undergone the human leukocyte antigen typing to see if he was a match for Kaylen. It might be a long shot, but Trevor had to do it. She was his daughter, after all.
In his more self-reflective moments, Trevor tried to understand the choices Dani made. They’d been young, barely more than kids themselves, and he hadn’t exactly proven himself to be mature and responsible. His battles over the years had proven that, and then some.
In the selfish moments, though, he remained angry. Pissed off, really. Didn’t he deserve to know the truth? Did Dani think so little of him that she deemed him unworthy to even know he had a child? Apparently so, and that part stung. A lot. Especially considering he might lose daughter just when he’d barely had a chance to get to know her.
The call came just as Trevor was about to head to gym to work out before the team’s final practice before heading to Nashville. “Hello?”
“Mr. Collison?”
“Yeah?”
“Hi. This is Gwen Lockard, calling for Dr. Jennifer Cook at the Children’s Hospital of San Antonio.”
Kaylen’s doctor, the one overseeing the HLA typing. Could it be good news? “Yes, hi. What can I do for you?” The bigger question might be whether she could do something for him. Like give him the news that maybe he could save his daughter’s life.
“Dr. Cook wondered if you could come to her office this morning. There are some things she’d like to discuss.”
Trevor glanced at his watch. If it wasn’t a long meeting, he could still make practice. Even if he was a little late, and risked being scratched for the game, he couldn’t say no. Not when Kaylen’s life might depend on it. “I’m on my way,” he said.
Twenty minutes
later, thanks to fairly light San Antonio traffic, Trevor sat in a conference room at the hospital as Kaylen’s doctor, and her nurse, gave him the news. He was a partially matched donor with Kaylen.
“Forgive me for the dumb question, but is that a good thing?”
The doctor nodded. “Generally, yes. Not perfect, but pretty darn good. We have some medical advances now that can make this work.”
“How so?” Trevor asked. “Shouldn’t we be aiming for better than ‘pretty darn good?’” It was, after all, his daughter’s life on the line.
“In a perfect world, yes. I’d like a sibling. I’d like total match,” Dr. Cook explained. “I don’t have that here. I have a young patient fighting for her life, and a partial donor match. We could wait, seeing if a total match is found, or—”
“I didn’t say wait,” Trevor interrupted. “I just need more information. What does this mean for me? What does it mean for Kaylen?”
“The stem cells have to be treated after they are collected from the donor in order to deplete them of the donor T lympocytes that cause GvHD, or graft versus donor host disease.” The doctor went on to explain the complication of the newly transplanted donor cells attacking the transplant recipient’s body.
“And you think you can avoid that?” Trevor asked. “Make this work? Save her life?”
Had there been any hesitation, he probably would have walked out the door. Too much was on the line. But the doctor didn’t pause at all before saying. “Yes. I do.”
She was confident, that was for sure, but Trevor could appreciate that. He didn’t care about a ‘God complex’ right now. He wanted to help his little girl. It may have been only been a few days since he’d learned he was, and a few weeks since he’d met her, but the connection was there. It had been instantly.
“I need to know some things, first,” Trevor said. “For my future. I am a professional athlete.” There were two major questions on his mind. What did it mean for him? And more importantly, were his past decisions at risk of putting Kaylen at risk? “If I do this, can I ever play hockey again? And more importantly, I’ve done some dumb things in my life. Abused my body, if you will. Does that disqualify me, or jeopardize Kaylen in any way?”
Winning it All (Men of the Ice Book 3) Page 7