Chapter 5
Danny
As I drove towards my parents’ house in Huntington Beach, I reflected on my afternoon and early evening.
James and I got all the lights hung outside Rob’s house, as well as some decorations that fit with the neighborhood.
Colin oversaw the installation of all the furniture for Rob’s kids, and not just from his seat lounging on the recliner.
Much to James’s consternation.
We’d made the beds with the sheets, blankets, and pillows. I suggested to James that we should come back to paint Hallie’s bedroom something prettier, and he’d pointed out he had no idea how long the family would be staying or, just as important, who might come next. Not everyone would want a bedroom designed for a four-year-old girl. And, because the room didn’t have a closet, the next renter might switch it back to a den.
I’d helped put away the few things Rob had acquired with the social worker’s help. Rob’s cheeks had turned an odd shade of pink when he admitted he hadn’t brought anything with him to Gaynor Beach.
Which, in turn, made me want to track down his asshole ex and exact some revenge.
I wouldn’t, of course.
Partly because I was a pacifist, partly because I was a chickenshit, but mostly because I didn’t want any chance that Rob’s ex might track him to Gaynor Beach via my relationship with James and the house. Nope. I also wouldn’t do internet searches to satisfy my curiosity.
Much as that would kill me.
I’d keep my nose out of Rob’s business.
Unless he asked me to get in it, of course.
Except…why would he? I was no one to him. Just the guy who helped him get settled. Just the guy who tried to keep the pity from spilling over. Mama and Daddy taught me about being empathetic of people’s circumstances. Pointing out that people often didn’t know everything that went on in another person’s private life. Well, Rob’s personal life was all over his face—with that broken nose. As well as written all over his daughter’s face when she gazed up at us with wide eyes. Maybe all men scared her. Maybe dogs as well. If so, that was sad.
Colin said that although Hallie had been wary of Widget, Rob had actually sat on the ground for quite some time, just petting the puppy. Apparently, Thomas, when not toddling off and getting into everything, also really liked the puppy. Just Hallie hadn’t warmed up to my brother’s boyfriend’s faithful companion. And, as I’d teased James, his little shadow as well. Clearly Widget loved James almost as much as Colin.
I took the exit from the 5 toward Huntington Beach.
And why wouldn’t Widget adore James? My brother was truly the best man I knew. My other brother, Martin, was cool. And Daddy was awesome. But James had a generosity of spirit I could only envy. At times, in comparison, I felt petty.
Colin, James, and I had talked about what all Rob would need. I patted the steering wheel. I saw that sweet little girl acting afraid, and how Rob looked gutted every time she flinched. I saw the bruises on his face and the fear he tried to hide. And I wanted to help. I’d known people with abusive spouses, and it took a shitload of courage to get free of them. Rob was awesome, and I was pretty sure he had no idea that was true.
James had given them shelter. Colin had given them furniture. What had I done? Strung a few Christmas lights? But what could I offer that Rob would take? Descending on him with unwanted help would be worse than nothing. I could offer to babysit. From what my siblings said, no parent ever turned that down, and as a single dad, Rob would be starved for alone time. Except he didn’t know me from Adam, and Hallie was scared of strangers. Odds were, it would be a while before either of them trusted me that much. I really wanted Rob to trust me.
Could I really give him my car? I’d suggested it to Colin and James, who’d seen my potential kind gesture as…interesting. I’d gotten the feeling, although I might’ve been wrong, that Colin thought the gift was over the top. Rich, coming from him. But…what about loaning it to Rob for a while? He’d need a way to get around town with two kids. I wanted to give money, but I just didn’t have any to spare. Colin kept saying not to worry, but I didn’t know what his finances looked like either.
Plus, everything I needed in LA was either on campus or a short bus ride away.
Yeah, over the top.
Was that really over the top? Okay, it probably was. But for some strange reason I wanted to put a smile on Rob’s face more than I’d wanted anything for a long time.
Night had fallen by the time I pulled into the driveway. I cut the engine and just sat for a moment as weariness overwhelmed me. Thank God I wasn’t driving all the way back to LA tonight. I’d have to get an early start, though, if I wanted to get in a full day of studying biochem.
I didn’t want to spend an entire day studying, but I needed to. My midterm grade sucked. My prof let me do work for extra credit, but she warned me if I didn’t get a near-perfect grade on the exam, then I’d be repeating the course.
If I wanted to get into med school.
She’d tactfully pointed out that med school wasn’t for everyone. That there were some really good alternate careers that weren’t nearly as stressful but were equally as rewarding.
I sighed. She was right, of course. I knew she was right. But my heart wouldn’t accept what my mind saw clearly—if I didn’t get my shit together right fucking now, med school would forever be out of reach.
A knock on the window pulled me from my reverie.
Whitney stood at the door, pointing to her wrist.
Funny because she didn’t wear a watch.
I grabbed my bag, opened my door, and hauled myself out. “What?” I might’ve snapped that.
She glared. “Mama needs to go to bed soon, and you’re sitting out here mooning.”
“I’m not mooning.” I glared.
“Oh, so you didn’t notice James’s new tenant?”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. I shut the car door, armed the alarm, and headed inside. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”
“Well…” She did a little twirl. She wasn’t as light on her feet as Gracie was, but she still did a good job. Years of jazz dancing hadn’t gone to waste—even if she’d been really too short to have a shot at anything professional. Whitney was as petite as our mother while Gracie had the height.
“Well, what?”
“Gracie called James to ask how the day went and he said something about a guy and how you thought he was cute?—”
“I did not.” I opened the front door with more force than was strictly necessary.
“Did not think he was cute or did not realize James saw you thought he was cute…?”
I blinked. Twice. “Whit, I’m too tired for this shit?—”
“Language.” Mama’s voice rang from the kitchen.
I winced. I knew better. No one swore in Mama’s house.
Whit leaned in. “James said something about lean, handsome, and?—”
“Whit.” I hissed her name. “This time last night, he was getting beaten up by his husband. This conversation is so, so, so beyond inappropriate. He might be all those things. I didn’t notice.” Liar. “What he is, though, is a young father with two great kids who’s hurting so hard that it comes off him in waves. He’s trying to hold things together—for them as much as for himself—but he’s barely holding on. He’s totally overwhelmed and needs support…not someone panting after him because of how he does or does not look.”
Whitney’s dark eyes narrowed, and I could tell she was embarrassed.
“I would’ve said all those things.” She poked her finger into my chest. “You didn’t give me a chance.”
“How are you, sweetheart?” Mama swept into the room. “My dear boy, you look so tired.”
I managed a smile. “I am, Mama. Can I…just go to bed?”
Of course, she pressed the back of her hand to my forehead.
“I’m not sick, Mama, I promise. I just…didn’t get much sleep last night. And today’s been a long day. But we can talk over breakfast, I promise.”
She held my gaze for a long time. “Okay.”
Whitney looped her arm in mine. “I’ll see him to bed.”
Oh God, seriously? Can’t I catch a break? Still, I’d never argue with Whit in front of Mama if it wasn’t necessary. I loved my mom too much. And with her health these days… “Did you take your pills?”
She rolled her eyes and smacked my arm. “You think your father would let me get away with not taking them?”
“Uh…no.”
“Right. Go to bed, and I’ll see you in the morning.” She gave Whitney a long look. “Behave.”
Whitney pressed a hand to her forehead and swooned dramatically—giving Gracie a run for her money in the over-the-top department. “I’m always good.”
Mama snickered as she headed back into the kitchen.
“Look, Whit?—”
“Not here. Come with me.” She whispered the words even as she propelled me to the back of the house where my small bedroom was tucked. When James moved out, earlier this year, he’d suggested I move into the much-bigger room our father had created for him in the basement.
I’d declined. Despite the minuteness of size, I liked my room. I had everything set up just the way I wanted. Plus, I was in LA most of the time for school. These days, I came home about as often as James did, so why force him into this smaller room? Now he had Colin, I was even more grateful I’d had the foresight not to move. Well, maybe not foresight. Just…the desire to keep things as they were.
Whit propelled me into my room and shut the door. “We need to talk.”
I dropped my bag onto the floor, sat on my bed, and flopped back. I put my arm over my eyes. “Talk, Whit. Seriously, I’m exhausted.” If I thought I could tell her about my redneck asshole drunk roommate and it wouldn’t get back to Mama, then I would. But while Gracie could keep a secret, Whit was genetically incapable. Same with Leticia.
She thrust a business card into my hand.
I moved my arm so I could hold the card in front of me, but the writing blurred because of the overhead light. “Whit?—”
She flipped off the overhead light and then flipped on my bedside lamp.
That did not make things better. “Whit.” This time, I let all my exasperation sneak into my voice.
She sighed. “Dr. Marcia Patton.”
“Who?” I squinted.
“She’s a transplant hepatologist at Cedar Sinai. And, the most important part, is she’s not Colin’s liver doctor.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, fighting the impending headache. “I know what a hepatologist is. Why do you have her business card?” My mind swam.
“Because I went to see her to see if I was a candidate to donate.”
I sat up so abruptly that the world spun for one very long moment. “Can you repeat that?”
Whit straightened. “Well, first Martin went. Wait, I should go back a step. Leticia went through the family’s medical records.”
“Of course she did.” Our eldest sister—older than her twin Felicia by mere moments, but one would never guess by the authoritative way she ruled us all—ran the show. Oh, Mama and Daddy thought they did, but our sister, from the moment she was born, was meant to keep everyone in line.
“So she checked blood types. Martin, you, and I are matches. Well, she and Felicia are as well, but since they’re both pregnant?—”
I waved her off. “And, in an obnoxiously short period of time will both have five kids each?—”
“Right. Which is why she ruled out their husbands as well.”
“Martin has a daughter and another one on the way.”
“Yeah, but he…was more amenable.”
“Leticia leaned on him harder.”
Whit tapped her lips. “No. He was, like, genuinely willing to donate to Colin. I mean, the risks are minimal?—”
“They include death, Whit.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, duh. So, like, he went and got tested first.”
“No match?” I assumed by her windup that she’d been involved.
Another eye roll. “Martin’s tissue didn’t match” She held up her hand to cut me off at the pass. “But they thought they might be able to do a three-way…” She paused. “That sounds bad?—”
“Whit.” No question, I had zero shits left to give. My patience was beyond depleted.
“But I have a liver enzyme problem.”
My gaze shot to hers as panic engulfed me.
She waved me off. “Minor problem. Like, not even a blip. They said they wouldn’t have even found it if they hadn’t been looking. They’ve given me a small list of foods and supplements to avoid and suggested I get retested next month and then every year for a while, till they’re sure it’s stable. But I’m out as a donor.”
I winced…but that didn’t sound too bad. If the doctors had been truly concerned, they would have done way more than that. Liver issues could be incredibly serious.
As Colin was finding out.
I waved my hand. “Okay, so Martin wasn’t a match and you’re out.”
She shook her head. “But Martin insisted they do extra tests, and he’s now in the bone marrow donor program. Given the scarcity of donors, if he’s ever a match, they’ll be all over that.”
“He didn’t have to do that.”
“Of course he didn’t.” Whit examined one of her fingernails. “But, like, once he got it in his head that he could donate, he went looking to see what else he could do.” She met my gaze. “Who knew? He’s some kind of philanthropist.”
I wasn’t certain that was the right term, but I understood what she meant. “Okay…so we’re down to me?”
“Yep.” She popped the p. “Doctor Patton said to call as soon as you can. There’s a two-day process. Well, if the initial blood tests are a match. They do more lab work, scans, x-rays, testing, and screening. If you pass all that, then you talk to a nurse about donating. If you survive all that, the next day you’re back for consultations with…everyone. A psychologist, a social worker, a surgeon, and…” She tapped her lips. “Like, I can’t remember.”
I let out a long breath. “Whit, I’ve got finals. And, like, school again just after New Year’s. This is a big year for me.”
She stepped forward and took my cheeks in her hands. “Danny, you know I love you, right?”
“Of course.” Because for all of our battles—and there were many—we all loved each other.
“How will you feel if Colin dies waiting for a transplant and you might’ve been a match?”
I glared. Because she was right, of course. She often was.
Often.
Not always.
But more often than not.
“Whit.”
“Danny.” She feathered her hand through my hair. “Surely school would understand if you take a semester off. And…who knows…”
I waited. Dreaded what was coming next.
“You…” She winced. “You need a reset, Danny.”
“How—”
“Your roommate might’ve let slip?—”
“Whit.”
She waved me off. “I went to visit you one day and douchebag got to talking all about you. Oh my God, Danny, that man has zero respect for you, women, Black people, the Constitution, democracy, or true Christians.”
I cocked my head. “How much time did you spend with him?”
“Twelve minutes. Longest twelve minutes of my life.”
Sounds about right.
“Look, he can be indiscreet?—”
She snickered.
“But I never told him about my grades.”
She eyed me. “You keep papers around? Your laptop open? He totally seems like the kind of guy who would snoop.”
Apparently she knew more than I did. “How…?”
“I dunno. I was waiting for you when he started in on how you were the perfect evidence of how stupid Black men are. Because you’re flunking out of premed.” She blew out a breath. “I coulda told him to shut up, but I wanted to see how far he’d sink. It’s kind of fun to watch them tangle themselves up.”
“And he didn’t think you might…I don’t know…tell me?” Should have let him aspirate his vomit and die.
That’s mean.
So, apparently, is the fucking racist I’ve been rooming with. I’d have to see about swapping out after Christmas for someone else. Interesting that he’d never been openly hostile or racist to me. Of course I had seventy pounds and seven inches over the scrawny shit. Good-looking…but still a shit.
“I just sat there and gave him that smile. Basically, I played the bimbo.” She pointed to her breasts. “Some men are truly that shallow.”
“Ew. Gross.” As a pansexual, I had an appreciation for breasts, flat chests, and everything in between. What I did not want to think about, however, was my sister’s tits. I waved my hand. “We’re getting off topic.”
“The topic is you calling Dr. Patton’s office first thing Monday morning, making an appointment, and going in.”
I squinted. “Why isn’t Colin asking me? Or James?”
“Because…” She did another twirl. “They don’t know.”
“Right.”
“Because if they knew, they’d say not to do it.”
“Right.”
Whit leaned closer. “James wants to, but he’s prediabetic. Had no idea.”
“And you know this how?”
“He told Mama.”
I arched an eyebrow.
She waved me off. “You don’t want to know.”
No, she was probably right—I was better off not knowing. “Won’t Colin be upset? Or James?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Like, if Colin gets a new liver, I can’t see how they would complain. And, besides, it’s anonymous donation—they won’t know who’s giving to them, and you won’t know who you’re giving to.”
“But you just said?—”
“Make it anonymously. Colin will be told some good Samaritan wanted to donate part of their liver.”
“If I’m a match.”
“Yeah, there is that.” She met and held my gaze. “I have a really good feeling, Danny. Like this is meant to be.”
“Whit—”
“Didn’t you ever feel like you were meant to be something greater than you are?”
“I’m planning on being a doctor. Maybe even a surgeon. Saving lives seems pretty noble.”
“How’s biochem going?”
I winced. “Maybe there’s an out-of-state school who will accept a keen learner with bad science grades?”
She bopped me on the head. None too gently. “Find out if you’re a match. If you are, take the semester off school and figure out what you really want to do with your life. If it’s medical school, then take the class again, ace it, and you’re good to go.”
“Do Mama and Daddy know?”
“Hell fucking no.” She snickered. “You think they’d let you get away with this? Oh, when they ask who will take care of you after the surgery, just say me.”
“You?” I arched an eyebrow.
“O ye of little faith.” She placed a hand to her heart. “I will be the best nursemaid ever.”
I didn’t believe her.
But that didn’t stop me from calling the doctor Monday morning.