THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER
The next day, Jonah checked into the Sunrise Medical facility for a myocardial biopsy. Someone told me—I didn’t remember who—that it was a same-day office procedure, but his doctor, Dr. Morrison, wanted Jonah to stay overnight for more tests. Kidney and liver panels, and an EKG.
“Are you his girlfriend?” Dr. Morrison asked in the hall outside Jonah’s room. Theo stood beside me.
“Yes,” I said, hugging my arms. “Kacey Dawson.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Kacey,” Dr. Morrison said. He was a lovely man, with a graying beard and sharp, kind eyes. I liked him at once, but all the while we exchanged pleasantries, I screamed at him in my mind…
FIX HIM
MAKE HIM WELL.
GIVE HIM BACK TO ME.
Dr. Morrison explained what Jonah would need while recovering from a biopsy. “It would be ideal if someone were with him for the twenty-four hours after the procedure. Presuming he’s released tomorrow morning as planned.”
“Why wouldn’t he be released?” I asked.
“No reason at this time. We’ll let the test results come back and go from there, all right?”
We were allowed in Jonah’s room then. He lay reclined in bed, an IV of clear fluid hung over him and fed into the back of his right hand, the needle taped just above his medic alert bracelet.
He threw us a glance of greeting. He’d been sullen and silent all morning.
Unreachable. As Theo and I took a seat on either side of the bed, he looked at neither of us but absently cycled through channels on the muted wall TV.
“Mom and Dad are on the way,” Theo said.
“They don’t need to come.”
“You’re in the hospital,” his brother replied, barely keeping the sharp edge out of his voice. “You think Mom will stay away?”
Jonah shrugged and said nothing.
“Oscar texted me,” Theo continued. “He’s at work and wants to come. He and Dena both. I told them it’s not an emergency.”
“Good.”
I put my hand over Jonah’s, mindful of the IV. He didn’t react, didn’t move to take my hand or look at me. I sucked down the pain roaring within me, I’m not strong enough for this. I’m not I’m not I’m not…
Theo’s eyes found mine, searchingly. Like Lola, ready and waiting for me to flake out right before a big show, only the stakes were a billion times higher.
You knew this was coming , I told myself. You knew it wasn’t going to be long walks on the beach in San Diego and making love all night, every night. This is it. This is real, and now you’re going to stay and fucking take it.
Except that I didn’t think we’d actually be here. I’d always held on to a little flame of hope and now it was guttering out.
A nurse or technician wheeled in a cart, and Theo got up to make room. As Dr. Morrison and the tech bustled around the machines, the heart tracking Jonah’s pulse beeped faster, betraying the stoic expression on his face.
“Hey,” I whispered.
He nodded, his eyes straight ahead .
“Do you want to hold my hand?”
“I’ll crush it.” He turned his head on the pillow and looked at me for the first time all morning.
Within the cold, flat lines of his face, his eyes were rimmed with terror.
Because this was happening. We were at this dreaded place, and it was worse, so much worse, than I could have ever possibly imagined.
I can’t I can’t I can’t…
I let go of his hand. “Maybe Theo, then…”
Jonah’s chin rose a hair, then fell.
I surrendered my seat to Theo. He took Jonah’s hand in his and I watched them exchange a look. A commiseration. Theo knew what to do, and Jonah trusted him to do it.
The tech gave Jonah a shot of anesthetic in the neck, just above his collarbone, while Dr. Morrison readied a hideous-looking instrument.
“All right, Jonah,” Dr. Morrison said, “you’re going to feel a slight pinch and then pressure.”
“Liar,” Jonah said, his entire body tensed and knuckles white in the hand holding Theo’s.
“Guilty as charged,” Morrison said, his eyes flicking between his hands and the monitor showing the tiny camera now threading down Jonah’s jugular. And I could see everything. I could see inside Jonah’s body, taking a narrow, dark road down to the heart that was failing him.
“Almost there,” Dr. Morrison said. “You’re doing great. Try to stay relaxed.”
“Exhale,” Theo murmured. “Don’t hold your breath.”
Jonah let the held air out through his nose, keeping his teeth gritted. The heart monitor continued beeping at ninety-eight pulses per minute.
“There we are,” the doctor said, and Jonah closed his eyes.
Through the catheter, Morrison inserted a bioptome—a device with tiny jaws at the tip. It pinched off a piece of Jonah’s heart tissue, then retreated back down the vein.
Jonah made a sound deep in his chest, and I had to clap my hand over my mouth to keep from doing the same.
“Aaaand we’re done.” Dr. Morrison turned aside to the tray table. His tech bottled and labeled the tiny piece of heart tissue to take to the lab while a nurse busied herself with the incision site. Morrison snapped off his blue latex gloves and threw them in a waste receptacle.
“You did fantastic,” he said, patting Jonah’s leg. “Ah, and here are your parents.” He smiled warmly at Henry and Beverly in the doorway. “We’ve just finished. We should have the results some time tomorrow morning.”
“Wonderful,” Beverly said through a tight, nervous smile. She nodded at me in greeting, then went to Jonah’s side. “How are you doing, sweetheart? You look wonderful.”
“I’m tired,” Jonah said, staring at nothing. “I’d like to get some rest now.”
“Oh.” Beverly swallowed. “But we just got here…”
Henry said, “He needs to rest.” He took hold of his wife by the shoulders. “Come on, Beverly. Everyone. Let’s leave him to sleep. We can visit in a few hours—”
“No,” Jonah said. “In the morning. Come back in the morning.”
“The morning?” Beverly’s hand crept to the neckline of her cardigan.
“Pending the results of several tests, we’re going to keep Jonah overnight,” Dr. Morrison said. “Purely as a precaution.”
No one moved. Glances darted here and there until the doctor cleared his throat and made a firm gesture toward the door. We all shuffled out, and I waited for Jonah to look at me or call me back. He didn’t.
In the hallway, the Fletchers asked questions. Theo answered. Dr. Morrison elaborated. I stood in numb silence, listening to the squeak of rubber-soled shoes on linoleum as nurses passed by. Machines beeped alarms and a voice over an intercom paged a doctor.
“Kacey? ”
I jumped. They were all staring at me. Beverly’s smile was a frozen grimace while her eyes melted to panic. “You’ll stay with Jonah after he’s released tomorrow?”
“Of course,” I said, conscious of Theo’s eyes on me. “In fact, I should go home and pack a few things to stay over…”
Theo’s whiskey-colored eyes met mine. In their imploring gaze, I could hear an echo of an earlier conversation.
You’re just going to leave…
I shook my head at him, as if he’d spoken aloud. “I’m going to pack a bag,” I said. “Then I’m coming back. I am…I…”
Then Beverly laid her hand on my arm. “You know, Kacey, I’d love some coffee. Will you join me?”
I sucked in a breath and nodded. “Yes, sure. Of course.”
Her hand still tucked in my elbow, we headed down to the first floor cafeteria.
A space I typically associated with school, filled with laughter, shrieks and loud crosstalk.
The hospital cafeteria was sparsely populated and quiet as a library.
Only a few people occupied tables, eating in silence.
One or two patients in wheelchairs sat with nurses or family members.
Beverly took a small table near the window while I bought two cups of coffee. We sat without drinking for a long, silent time, watching little black birds hop around the courtyard outside.
“It is hard for you to be here, isn’t it?” Beverly said after a moment. “It’s hard for all of us, but unlike you, we’ve known Jonah all of our lives. Before the virus. Before the transplant. But you met him only months ago. When he was already sick.”
I nodded.
“And here you are,” she said. “He was sick when you met him, but here you are. That’s an extraordinary thing, I think, to begin so close to the end.”
“I…I’m scared.” I set my coffee cup down before my shaking hands spilled it. “I don’t think I’m strong enough.”
“May I tell you a story, dear?” Her tone meant, I am going to tell you a story and you are going to listen. But I welcomed it. I needed the distraction. I needed someone else’s words to push out the panicky fear that ricocheted around my thoughts like lightning.
“When Jonah was born, I changed. Profoundly. Forever. I think that’s the way it is with every new mother. You spend nine months carrying this little being in you, this little stranger, until finally they’re born, and you see their face…”
Her gazed fixed beyond the window, beyond the little birds, to a moment twenty-six years ago. “When I saw Jonah’s face for the first time it was like seeing someone again after a long absence. Not a meeting, but a reunion.”
She reached over and briefly patted my hand. “I love both my sons equally, of course. But they’re so different. Theo and I have spent our entire lives getting to know each other and it’s not always been easy. But with Jonah, it’s effortless.”
Beverly’s brows knitted together, as if she were trying to recall something now forgotten.
“I’ve known Jonah before. I know I have.
Call it reincarnation or whatever you’d like.
I’m not religious or even particularly spiritual.
But I can’t help but feel the universe is a vast place, and the soul of a human being is infinite, even if the body is temporary.
” She nodded to herself, certain now. “I’ve known Jonah before, and I know I’ll see him again.
And that gives me comfort. Not a lot, but some. ”
She turned to me. “And you, Kacey. You give me comfort. Quite a lot more comfort these days than anything else.”
I swallowed the jagged lump in my throat but couldn’t move otherwise. Beverly’s words wrapped around me and squeezed until all I could hear was her voice and my own heart thudding in my chest.
“I’m sure you know Jonah had a serious girlfriend in college,” she said.
“Audrey.”
“Yes. Nice girl, but serious. Driven. She was…precise about how she wanted her life to be.” Beverly’s mouth became a thin line, and her voice hardened.
“I was angry with her for leaving Jo nah when he needed her most. Furious. But you want to know something strange? The day after she flew out of the country, the very next day, we got the call that a donor had been matched. Isn’t that something? ”
I didn’t say anything. No answer was required, anyway.
“Jonah was in surgery when she left. I tried to think of ways to break the news and comfort him. I thought surely he’d be devastated.
Betrayed. Yet when I thought of their time together, I couldn’t recall anything that would qualify as much of a loss.
Nothing significant in three years . His eyes didn’t light up when he looked at her across our dinner table.
His voice didn’t change when he said her name.
He never spoke of her with…awe. Only facts.
“Audrey and I are thinking of flying to Cabo. Audrey and I are attending the gallery opening. Audrey and I are having dinner with friends…’ It was a news report of incidentals.” She looked at me, her smile wreathed in a sheepish guilt. “That’s petty and unkind, but it’s true.”
“I understand.”
“His heart isn’t well now, but he’s much healthier in other ways. Ways I’d always hoped for when he was with Audrey, but never observed.”
I felt a tightening in my chest, an anticipation of something I needed to hear, something that would save me from my faltering courage.
“Jonah is always insisting we don’t talk about bucket lists,” Beverly said.
“‘Don’t bucket-list me, Mom.’ But mothers…
We all have our own list for our children—hopes we have for them.
Dreams and aspirations. My list is full, and all the things Jonah might never do or experience weigh heavily on me.
So heavy. A wedding, children of his own… ”
She looked at me, her lips trembling, her eyes shining.
“Falling in love and being loved in return. That’s the heaviest one.
But you’re here now. And the way he talks about you…
” Her eyes filled and spilled over. “His eyes light up and his voice ch anges when he says your name. His smile when you walk into a room is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. ”
A tingling warmth began to spread through me, warming me against the icy chill of fear and grief. Beverly reached out and brushed a tear from my cheek and cupped my chin.
“And even more beautiful than that, Kacey? Your eyes light up when my son is near. Your voice changes when you say his name. And the smile you wear when you’re looking at him and think no one is watching…
Those are gifts I’ll never be able to thank you for.
To know my Jonah is loved. He’ll leave this world loved, won’t he? ”
I nodded, tears streaming from my eyes. “Yes,” I whispered. “He’s loved and he’ll be loved forever.”
Beverly’s smile shone through her tears like a ray of sun through rain. “Wonderful.” She patted my cheek and let her hand fall. “Cross that off my list, then.”