Any Other Love

by Elizabeth Barone

  She could hardly elevate all four of her limbs.

  Finishing, she stood and turned to flush. A gasp wheezed out of her chest. The urine in the toilet wasn’t clear like it usually was. It was frothy—and tinged with red. She planted a hand on the wall to support her rubbery, aching knees and took a deep, slow breath through her nose.

  Then she looked at the toilet again, hoping it’d just been a trick of the light.

  “Yep, definitely blood,” she muttered, staring at her swollen hands and feet in suspicion. She flushed and eased out of the bathroom, as if walking too quickly would result in her collapsing or something. Her pulse fluttered in her throat.

  Sitting on the couch, she grabbed her phone. It was too late to call her rheumatologist’s office, but they’d given her a hotline number that she could call 24/7 and speak with a nurse. She hadn’t thought she’d ever use it, but she’d saved it into her phone anyway.

  She called the hotline.

  “This is Octavia speaking. How can I help you?” a velvety voice asked.

  Despite the fear thrumming through her, Amarie calmed a bit. “Um, hi,” she said. “I don’t want to sound like a hypochondriac, but I’ve been a little swollen all day. Tonight it got a lot worse, and just now I peed and it looked like there was blood in it. It was not my period,” she added before the nurse could ask.

  “Where’s the swelling, honey?” Octavia asked.

  Amarie listed the areas without looking: feet, ankles, hands, and arms. “My eyes feel kinda swollen, too, if that makes sense.” She blinked several times. Her eyes were heavy as if they’d doubled in size, sort of like when she’d had the flu but without the soreness.

  “All right, and aside from the blood, are you urinating regularly?”

  She tried to remember. “I think so. It’s super foamy, though.”

  “Thank you,” Octavia said. “Okay, honey, I’m just gonna take some basic information from you. I’ll need your insurance details, too. Your name?”

  After rattling off the required information, Amarie was put on hold. She slumped back against the couch, Pops rubbing the hand that rested on her lap. So far, it seemed like she’d overreacted and was completely wasting her time. She should be icing her swollen body parts, not distracting a nurse from people who actually needed help.

  “Okay, honey,” Octavia said, “I’ve spoken with the staff at Waterbury Hospital. They’re expecting you, so you can go right into the ER and they’ll get you in right away.”

  Amarie blinked. “Wait, what? I have to go to the emergency room?”

  “I see in your chart you have Undifferentiated Connective Tissue Disease that may be pre-Lupus,” Octavia explained. “With Lupus, there can be kidney problems, so I’d like you to get checked out right away just to be safe.”

  “Kidney problems?” she repeated. “Like what?” Panic folded around her, wrapping her in its grip.

  “It can be as simple as a kidney infection from your medication or what we call Lupus Nephritis—when Lupus attacks your kidneys. I want you to go right in, okay? They’re expecting you. You won’t have to wait.”

  “Sure,” Amarie said, feeling as if she’d fallen into a rabbit hole. Thanking the nurse, she hung up. Then she opened her ongoing text with Char, debating whether she should say anything about her kidneys. She decided to go for levity.

  “Going on a hot date with a nurse in the ER,” she texted. “I have a very sexy UTI. Meet me there?”

  For a moment, she considered bringing a few things. She shouldn’t be there long, though. Every time she’d gone to the ER for something related to her autoimmune disease, her labs had shown nothing major. Like always, they would just send her home, maybe with an antibiotic for the UTI.

  In the end she took only her keys and phone. Then she petted Pops’s head and planted a kiss between his eyes. “Be back soon,” she promised.

  Chapter 26

  A text came in on Char’s phone, the ding nearly inaudible with what sounded like two thunderstorms around them. Her phone vibrated against the table, though, alerting her to the message. She pressed the lock button to ignore it for the time being.

  “How would the partnership work?” she asked, wishing she’d at least done a little research before coming to Rowan and Matt.

  “Well, Ro technically owns sixty percent,” Matt said. “So I guess, split three ways, it’d be something like forty, thirty, thirty.” He shrugged.

  “You’ve put a lot into this place, though,” Rowan told him. “It should be something like thirty-five, thirty-five, thirty. No offense, Char.”

  She shook her head. “None taken. I agree.”

  “Elli’s was your aunt’s, though,” Matt said. “It should stay in your family.”

  Rowan tilted her head to the side. “Don’t you think it already is?” She gave him a meaningful look.

  Char’s eyes widened. “Whoa. No way!” She glanced from Rowan to Matt. “Since when?”

  Rowan lifted an eyebrow at her. “Relax, woman. I mean we’re together. It’s staying in my family regardless.”

  Matt pretended to fan his chest with the collar of his T-shirt. “Dodged that bullet.”

  Rowan swatted at him playfully. “Who do you think you’re kidding? You’re dying to have kids.”

  “Let me get my little brother through high school first.”

  Sitting back in her seat, Charlotte soaked in their chatter. It reminded her of how, when she’d run into Amarie at Gravity, they’d half-jokingly talked about having kids. She could definitely see herself raising a family, and she knew Amarie had been half-serious, too. Her girl watched The Fosters for more than just the healthy relationship that Lena and Stef had. It wasn’t at all hard to imagine a similar future for herself and Amarie.

  She picked up her phone, remembering the text. Her brows furrowed as she read. Before panic fully got her, she held up her phone for Rowan to read. “Should I be freaking out?”

  “No,” Rowan said, “but you should definitely get moving. Come on. I’ll drive.”

  Matt gave Char’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Let me know what’s going on when you can.”

  Rowan grabbed her wristlet and keys, then motioned for Char to follow her outside to her gold Honda Civic. Just as they left the cover of the lip of the roof, the sky opened up. Fat droplets pummeled Char as she chased after Rowan.

  “Jeez,” she shouted as she slid into the car.

  “I know,” Rowan called back. She turned the engine over and put the windshield wipers on high. As fast as they swished back and forth, though, they couldn’t keep up with the downpour. “We’re gonna have to wait ’til it breaks.”

  Char nodded. They were better safe than sorry. Still, she couldn’t help but worry about Amarie. She should’ve gone home hours earlier. Then she would’ve been there to drive Amarie in herself. For all she knew, Amarie was driving in the downpour.

  “It’s just a UTI,” she muttered to herself. She needed to stay calm, but a knot in her stomach insisted otherwise. She tried to remember how Amarie had seemed when she left that afternoon. Tired, but that was nothing new. She bit her lip.

  “It’ll be okay,” Rowan said, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

  “I just have this weird feeling.” Char stared out the windshield.

  The rain slowed slightly. Rowan put the car into reverse and backed out of her spot. “Well, let’s go find out what’s going on. Then we can panic.”

  Char closed her eyes, thankful for her best friend’s presence. Balancing each other was their unspoken agreement. While one of them fretted or ranted, the other stayed calm and grounded. She supposed that she and Rowan had their own silent language similar to what Rowan had with Matt. It was something that developed over time. Eventually, she and Amarie would have it, too.

  As long as they got that time.

  The hospital was only ten or so minutes away from Elli’s. Rowan pulled as close as she could get to the entrance without blocking in either of the ambulance
s that were parked there. “I’ll be right behind you,” she said. “Go find her.”

  Charlotte slid out of the car and jogged inside. She wiped rain water off her cheeks with the back of her sleeve.

  A security guard halted her from behind her window. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes please. My girlfriend came in. She said she’s already back there.”

  The security guard nodded, her shoulder-length braid bobbing with the motion. She reminded Char a little of Stef on The Fosters. “Her name?”

  Char gave her Amarie’s name, and a few seconds later a nurse was walking her to the back area. They passed several patients on gurneys in the hall. “Busy night, huh?”

  “That’s an understatement.” The nurse led her to an area marked urgent care, then drew back a curtain. Amarie sat huddled under several blankets. “I brought you someone,” the nurse said to her.

  Char rushed past the nurse and wrapped her arms around Amarie. “Are you okay? What happened?”

  “It’s just a UTI,” Amarie insisted.

  “Your face is swollen.” Char sucked in her cheeks. “Your hands, too.”

  The curtain opened again and a middle-aged doctor came into the exam room. The embroidery on his coat read Dr. Davis. “Your urinalysis came back,” he told Amarie.

  Char sat on the edge of the gurney, Amarie’s hand sandwiched between her own hands. She gave Amarie’s hand a reassuring but gentle squeeze.

  “There is some blood and protein in your urine that I’m concerned about. It could be from inflammation. I’ll know better when your blood work comes back.” Dr. Davis rubbed his short dark beard. “My nephrologist is on call tonight, so I’ve got someone paging him in. For now I’m going to get you started on some fluids and have you sit tight.” He turned to go.

  “So what does this mean?” Amarie asked, placing her other hand on top of Char’s.

  Char ran her thumb along the edge of Amarie’s hand, wishing she could do more than just hold her. Her thoughts raced. Amarie had been doing well—feeling better, even. Yet suddenly the rug had been pulled out from underneath them. If her kidneys were inflamed, then she definitely didn’t just have UCTD.

  The doctor gave them a reassuring smile, but his response was vague. “Hang tight. We’ll get this figured out.”

  Then he disappeared through the curtain, leaving Char and Amarie gaping at each other.

  Chapter 27

  “How are you feeling?”

  Amarie shrugged in response. She stared at the curtain, expecting it to fly open any moment, for her doctor to tell her they’d made a mistake. It remained closed.

  “Hey.” Char stroked her hair with a gentle hand. “Are you nervous?”

  “I don’t think so.” She looked down at her hands in her lap. “I probably should be, but I’m still processing everything. Besides,” she added, “I should probably wait ’til my labs come back before I panic.”

  “Good point.” Char smoothed the blanket around her shoulders and the one that covered her legs. “Can I get you anything?”

  “I’m starving,” she admitted. “My parents wanted us to come for dinner. Shit! I should text my mom.” She groped for her phone under the blankets.

  “Maybe you should wait ’til you know more,” Char suggested. “You know, so she doesn’t panic.”

  “Good point.” Amarie tapped her lip. “Do you think they’ll admit me if my blood comes back wonky?”

  Char stood, adjusted the gurney so that it was less upright, then climbed back into bed with Amarie. She put an arm around her, holding her close. “Let’s wait and see.”

  She hated waiting, though. Not knowing what was coming was a major trigger for her anxiety. Potentially being stuck in the hospital was not helping, either. “I’ve never stayed in a hospital before,” she admitted.

  “Never?”

  “Well, I’m sure I did when I was born.” She shrugged. “Why? Have you?”

  “I got my tonsils out when I was like twelve,” Char said, opening her mouth wide. “They gave me lots of ice cream. That was literally the only good thing about it.”

  “I still have my tonsils.” Amarie pressed her cheek to Char’s. “My wisdom teeth, too.”

  “All original parts. That’s good.”

  She snorted softly. “I’m about to be down a kidney.”

  “You don’t know that. It could still just be a UTI.” Char’s fingers trailed back and forth across Amarie’s hairline.

  Her eyes fluttered closed. If it weren’t for the current circumstances—not to mention the horribly uncomfortable gurney—she could fall asleep. “And if my kidney is dying or whatever?”

  “I’ll totally give you mine,” Char promised. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, though.”

  Amarie pressed her nose to Char’s. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

  “Jeez. You’re not planning on dying, are you?”

  “No, but since New York, we haven’t said it much. So, I love you.” She watched Char’s face.

  “Oh, silly girl.” Char peppered her cheeks with kisses. “I will always love you, even if you no longer have your original parts.”

  “Good.”

  Even though the hospital buzzed around them and her thoughts raced with possibilities, Amarie dozed off. She heard the overhead pages in the background, but her sleep was otherwise a fuzzy gray haven. She woke what felt like seconds later to the sound of the curtain opening.

  “Sorry to wake you ladies,” Dr. Davis said.

  Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Amarie sat up. Charlotte blinked next to her, but kept an arm around her.

  “So I’m not liking your BUN and creatinine levels,” Dr. Davis said. When Amarie stared back at him blankly, he smiled. “In English, that means your kidneys aren’t filtering things as well as they should be—hence the blood and protein in your urine. It looks like this is the start of damage caused by inflammation, but we’d know better with a biopsy.”

  “Whoa.” Amarie held up a hand. “A biopsy? As in, you want to cut me open and take a piece of my kidney?”

  “Not quite like that, but yes, a biopsy would be helpful. Unfortunately, our nephrologist on call got pulled into an emergency surgery. It’ll be a few hours before he’s available again.” Dr. Davis sat down on a stool. “We have a couple options here.”

  “Do any of those end with ‘surgery’?” Amarie rubbed the spot on her back where she thought her kidneys were. It’d been a while since she’d taken a biology class.

  “I can’t make any promises, but with the way things look right now, probably not.”

  Her shoulders loosened. “Okay. Hit me with it.” She laced her fingers through Char’s.

  “You can wait around here ’til he gets out of surgery. It could be several hours, though,” Dr. Davis said.

  Amarie stifled a yawn. At the moment, a pit stop at Taco Bell and then a beeline for home were sounding like her best options. “What’s Plan B?”

  Dr. Davis fixed her with a stern gaze. “You can go home for now,” he said, holding up a finger, “with the solemn promise to see the nephrologist we refer you to as soon as possible. If any of your symptoms worsen before that, you come right back here.”

  “Let’s go with that one.” She pushed the blankets off her lap.

  “I’m strongly recommending that you stay and see our nephrologist tonight, though.”

  Char cleared her throat. “If she were to wait until she got in to see the . . . kidney doctor, how bad could the damage get?”

  Amarie shot her a look. If she had the option to go home, it couldn’t be that bad. Besides, she might be able to see the nephrologist right away.

  “That’s hard to say,” Dr. Davis said. “That’s why I’m recommending that she stay.”

  “Take me to Taco Bell, please.” Her stomach growled in agreement.

  The doctor shook his head. “Until we can get a fuller picture, you should avoid foods that are high in sodium.” He stood. “I’ll have the n
urses get you a sheet with some information.”

  “You’re crushing all of my dreams tonight,” she told him. Even though she tried to sound flippant, her voice wavered.

  Chapter 28

  Unlocking the door, Char held it open for Amarie. Pops ran right up to her girl, threading in and out of her legs and purring. Amarie picked him up, snuggling him close.

  “It’s okay, Pops,” she told him as she pet under his chin. His head tipped back and his lids closed to half slits.

  Char moved past them and collapsed on the couch. She leaned back into the cushioned seat, closing her own eyes. Away from the hospital, the whole ordeal was starting to feel surreal—as if she’d just dreamed the entire night. The truth was, though, that her girl was sick, and Amarie’s illness was getting more complicated.

  She felt Amarie sit next to her, then lay her head on Char’s shoulder. Keeping her eyes closed, she smiled.

  “What in the world am I going to eat?” Amarie asked softly.

  Char’s eyes opened and she shot her a sidelong glance, a smile tugging at her lips. “That’s your big concern?”

  “Well, yes,” Amarie insisted. “Salt is my whole life. I don’t know how to make a single dish without it.”

  “Maybe that’s why your kidneys are tapping out.” Char winced. The joke had sounded funny in her head.

  “Wimps,” Amarie muttered.

  Char’s shoulders relaxed. “Well, I can make some meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”

  “Without butter and salt?” Amarie held both sides of her face like the person in Edvard Munch’s The Scream. “He said low sodium. That means I can have some salt.” She sat up on her knees, looming over Char with her eyes narrowed.

  Trying to hold a blank face, Char stared back up at her. The way Amarie’s sweet little face was all scrunched up made her burst out laughing, though. She pulled Amarie into her arms. “You will never be an interrogator.”

  “Nope.” Amarie sat on her lap and pulled out her phone. “Spoonie selfie?”

  “Of course.” Char wrapped her arms around Amarie’s waist. She rested her head against Amarie’s arm and looked up into the camera lens of the phone.