Chapter 9
Danny
Dr. Patton’s incisive blue eyes cut right through me. “You’re certain?”
I nodded vigorously. Hell no, doc, I’m not certain. I’ve never been less certain of anything in my life. But you’ve just told me I can save a life. How could I ever not do it?
“There are risks, Mr. Reynolds.”
“I know.” I tapped my knee. “You and the team have spent the past three days explaining them all to me.” The process was usually crammed into two days, but I’d needed to take time off to take my exam.
The exam I’d bombed. “How soon? Because, like, Colin’s getting sicker all the time. And so’s the other guy, I assume. Do I get to know his name or will he always be the other guy?” I knew the gentleman was Black, in his forties, and healthy other than needing a new liver. That might’ve been more than I needed to know, but I got the feeling they wanted to assure me that my recipient had the best shot at surviving and thriving.
“You’ll have the option of meeting your recipient. If he wants.”
“And Colin won’t know I’m donating. Anonymous, right?”
She continued to eye me. “Your insistence on being anonymous is vaguely concerning.”
I shifted in my seat. “I’m an adult. I can make the decision for myself.”
“Yes.”
“And I’m perfectly healthy. A great donor—your words.”
“True.”
“Psychologically healthy and fully cognizant of the ramifications of donation including all possible outcomes.”
She arched an eyebrow.
“So why should it matter if my family knows or not?” I leaned forward. “I know you’re not Colin’s doctor. And maybe you haven’t met my brother, who is, like the best guy in the world. Yeah, I could die. I’m not making light of that. I can also get taken out on I5 anytime I run down to see them.”
Her lips pursed.
“But they’d try to talk me out of it.” When she began to speak, I gently raised my hand. “Try. They’re not going to. I mean, even if the other guy’s boss wasn’t a perfect match for Colin, I’m kind of invested. There’s a life I can save.”
“You want to be a doctor. Doctors save lives.”
I met her gaze head-on. “If I pass biochem, it’ll be a miracle.”
That damn eyebrow shot up again.
“Well…” I squirmed. “I passed, but barely. Certainly not good enough to even consider applying to med school. And yeah, I could try again…” I broke eye contact with her to look out the window. LA lay before me, in all her chaotic glory. Excitement, adventure, a quest I’d embarked on three years ago when I’d left Huntington Beach and had moved north.
I was miserable. This fast-paced lifestyle wasn’t for me. Even if I somehow made it into medical school, the thought of all that studying for the next however many years was, frankly, depressing. I was on the wrong track, and I needed to get off. Here was the perfect excuse. I turned back to her. “Six to eight weeks of recovery time?”
“This is major surgery.”
“And my sister Whitney can take care of me?”
“Certainly. You say she’s responsible and competent.”
I loved my sister, but those were not the two adjectives I’d pick first.
“So I’ll need to take the winter semester off?”
Slowly, she nodded.
“And I can make up the classes in the summer.” I shrugged. “I need a break. I’m only seeing this as a win-win.”
After a very, very, very long moment, she handed me the paperwork.
Two hours later, I sat in Mama’s kitchen as she put the finishing touches on the turkey, gravy, stuffing, cranberries, green beans, mashed potatoes, fresh-baked buns, and roast corn. “Mama, they’re three people. Well, one person, one child, and one infant. They can’t possibly eat all that.” The plan had been for Gracie to take the food hamper down to Rob and the kids. But she got a last-minute audition for a shampoo commercial and, given how much she’d get paid, she’d had to nab it.
When Mama’d heard about the family moving into James’s house, and their circumstances—although not the particulars—she’d clucked and said she’d prepare something for Christmas for them. Given her heart wasn’t great, I was worried. Surprisingly, Whitney had helped out. Mama would have two days’ rest before she tackled Christmas dinner for the entire Reynolds clan.
“Leftovers, my dear.” She wagged her finger at me. “You need to eat more of those.”
I cocked my head. “Mama, I always eat your leftovers. Martin’s the one who won’t because he’s so picky.”
She eyed me, as if considering. “I could bluster through, but I honestly thought you were the one who didn’t like them.” She pressed her hand to her forehead. “It’s not a good sign that I’m confusing my children.”
I stood, made my way over to her, and took her in my arms. She was tiny…in comparison to me. “Mama, I get confused and I’m only twenty.”
“Soon to be twenty-one.” She swatted at me. “Don’t you think I don’t remember your birthday is coming up.”
I snickered. “The one advantage to being so close to the holidays.” Despite the fact my birthday was just after the holidays, Mama always made a big fuss about it. Leftovers were gone by then, and she’d insist on another big feast. So diets in this family—new year’s resolutions, anyway—didn’t begin until after my special day.
“Now, I’m going to make you a sandwich?—”
“I ate before I left LA. That was just over an hour ago.”
“Well, you might get peckish. Although you shouldn’t eat while you’re driving?—”
I guffawed. “Yes, Mama.”
She swatted my ass. “Help me pack up this food.”
As we worked, the scents enveloped me and my stomach rumbled.
“You said you ate.” She glared at me.
“I said I ate before I left LA.” I put the buns into a container and sealed it. “Did you do your honey butter?”
She pursed her lips…reminding me very much of Dr. Patton. And how I was holding back something super important from my family.
“If he invites me to join him.” I scooped the green beans into another container. “No cheese sauce?”
“I’ve included a recipe card on how to make it. I wasn’t certain it would travel well.”
“The cooler is pretty stable.” I eyed the thing which we often used for camping when we were younger. I missed those trips. We hadn’t gone in years—not since Mama’s heart got worse.
“If he wants to keep the cooler, he’s welcome to it. Your sisters don’t want it and, frankly, can you see Martin camping?”
We met each other’s gazes and laughed.
“Uh…no. I don’t know if Rob’s in a position to start collecting things.” I still didn’t have a read on Rob’s situation. How permanent things were. How soon before he would be moving on.
Whether or not his ex-husband is still in jail.
I hadn’t searched. Even from LA, I didn’t want to leave a computer trail. James had taught me how to be incognito, of course, but nothing was ever one hundred percent safe. Well, if James did the search then I’d trust it to be untraceable…but I wasn’t going to put him in that position.
“And I don’t want the containers back.” Mama sealed the turkey I’d sliced into another container. “There’s both dark and light meat.”
Of course there was. “That’s great, Mama. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” I considered asking if she’d checked about allergies but, knowing Mama, she had. Plus, the foods were pretty innocuous. And, naturally, everything was labelled with a list of ingredients. Oh, and recipe cards were tucked in the side of the cooler.
“Don’t forget the gifts.” She patted my arm as I secured the lid of the cooler.
I cocked my head. “And I’m sure you absolutely did not go overboard.” My parents weren’t wealthy by any stretch of the imagination. Their house was paid for, but they’d also helped put seven children through college. Well, since Gracie dropped out after just a few months to pursue acting, maybe it only counted as six children. Most of us had scholarships of some kind—athletic for Felicia and Martin—academic for Leticia, Whitney, James, and me.
Still, I couldn’t fault her for buying gifts. With so many grandchildren, she would’ve known what to get Hallie and Thomas. Or she would’ve consulted with Leticia and Felicia because, well, Mama was smart.
Twenty minutes later, my car was packed with way too many things, and I waved to Mama as I backed out of the driveway. I hadn’t told her about the liver donation. I hadn’t told her about biochem or about taking a semester off. I’d thought not blabbing would be difficult—in the end, though, my decision had to be my own. Maybe she wouldn’t have tried to talk me out of it. Maybe she would’ve. Either way, I couldn’t take the risk of her interfering.
The miles passed in a blur as I maneuvered around slower cars. Speeding a bit. Not too much, though. Would that change? If I had a family of my own? Not Mama, Daddy, and that crew. No, if I had kids. A husband. Or a wife. Someone who counted on me to come home every night.
Soon, I took the off-ramp to Gaynor Beach and headed into town. I really wanted a coffee, but I didn’t want to stop. Weird that Rob didn’t drink coffee. Although he’d never been a college student. Everyone I knew mainlined coffee.
I parked on the street in front of the little house. I could’ve parked in the driveway—given there wasn’t a car—but…I always felt that was presumptuous.
Well, except at the Reynolds family home. Whomever arrived first got the primo parking spaces.
I got out, nabbed the cooler, and headed to the door.
Only after I rang the doorbell, did it occur to me that Thomas or Hallie—or both—might be asleep.
Damn.
When no one answered the door, it occurred to me that maybe James hadn’t actually called Rob to warn him I was on my way.
Well, shit.
I could leave a note, and head over to James’s. But that would be a glaring notice to everyone that the family wasn’t home. Oh, I could text him. I was grabbing my phone just as the door opened.
A clearly sleep-rumpled Rob opened the door. His hair stuck up in all directions, his eyes were bloodshot, and he yawned.
Thomas, who’d been tucked against him, suddenly threw himself toward me, tilting half out of Rob’s hold.
I caught him under the arms, and suddenly Rob and I were inches apart.
Rob said, “You got the wiggle monster?”
“Yep.” I took a better hold on the toddler as his dad let go.
Thomas giggled.
Rob sagged against the doorframe.
“Are you okay? Are you sick?” Kids were forever bringing home viruses. If one of the kids was sick and made everyone else ill?—
He shook his head. “Thomas is teething.” He wiped some saliva off his son’s chin before it landed on my sweatshirt.
I wouldn’t have cared. All that mattered was helping in any way I could. “Well, I brought the Christmas dinner.”
Rob blinked.
“James told you we were giving you a full turkey dinner with all the stuff that goes with it, right?” I eyed Thomas. “And gifts for the kids?”
Rob blinked, sniffed, and a tear rolled down his cheek.
That just about broke me. I never cried. Not because I was macho, but because I found tears hard. That they came so easily to Rob made my heart ache. “Okay, can you lift the cooler? Then, if you think Thomas won’t mind being with me alone for a moment, you can run out to the car and grab the four garbage bags of gifts. I know it’s silly, but we don’t have a red sack with white fur trim that Santa might use.”
“I…” He visibly faltered—again using the doorframe. “I can’t…”
“Can’t…?” Thomas grabbed my earlobe. “Hey, buddy, that actually hurts.”
He cocked his head, as if trying to understand.
“Can’t…?” I repeated the question to Rob. I suspected I knew, but I needed to hear it from him.
“Take all these wonderful gifts.” He winced. “I can’t afford?—”
“Afford?” I scoffed. “The meaning of gift is that it’s free. Given from the heart. And, trust me, Mama’s got a big heart.” I moved in closer. “I suspect some of these things are lightly used—Felicia’s three boys are grown out of most of the stuff.” I considered. “Felicia and Leticia are both pregnant, but I’m sure they’re eager to shop for new things.”
“Leticia and Felicia?”
“My twin sisters. Leticia’s a few minutes older, and boy, is she bossy. Anyway, she has three girls, and Felicia has three boys, and Leticia got pregnant again and, I think out of the competitive spirit, Felicia felt the need to do the same. And both are pregnant with twins.” I winced. “I haven’t done the math on all those odds. Astronomical, I’d say. Especially because twins don’t run in the family?—”
“Papa?” Hallie appeared, glancing up at her dad. Her ponytail was askew, with little wisps of her white-blonde hair escaping. She was rubbing her eyes.
“I interrupted a nap, didn’t I?” Another wince. “Sorry.”
Rob snagged Hallie and settled her on his hip. Despite her slender and petite size, she was clearly heavy. Rob wasn’t a big guy, but he seemed to manage. He turned to me. “We needed to get up anyway. Too much sleeping during the day and we won’t sleep properly at night.” He eyed the cooler.
“We’ll figure everything out.”
And we did. Rob got the kids settled in the kitchen with Thomas sitting in his high chair and eating little pieces of melon while Hallie snacked on a granola bar. Rob and I alternated runs to the car and pretty soon we had everything inside. I organized everything for the fridge while Rob put the gifts under the artificial tree in the living room that he’d decorated. Hopefully that was a good time and Hallie has some good memories. I worried about her. Always so somber, solemn, and almost sad. Compared to all my nieces and nephews when they’d been her age, the difference was stark.
Rob nibbled on some crackers as I set about laying out the instructions for reheating the feast.
I assumed he could read—although that was a big assumption. Plenty of people couldn’t, and they just sort of got by.
He asked some questions and, at the end, said he understood. “How do I thank your mother?” He rubbed his eyes. “Likely your entire family?”
“I could send a message through the family group chat if you’d like.”
His eyes widened. “For that?”
I yanked out my phone. “Oh, they’d love that. Sort of the reason we have it.” I popped off a message, and by the time I laid the phone down on the kitchen table, it buzzed several times with incoming messages.
Rob gaped. “That simple?”
“Well, Martin turns his notifications off since he’s a teacher. And Gracie’s auditioning today, so she might not?—”
I glanced down. “Nope, she sends her love.”
“She…” Rob swallowed. “She doesn’t know me.”
“She doesn’t have to know you to care.” I grinned. “It’s a Reynolds thing.” I eyed him. “And no one told you I was coming? Because I generally don’t like showing up unannounced.”
“No one told me you were coming.” Rob offered what I thought was a shy smile. “But you’re welcome to show up unannounced anytime. With or without gifts.” He winced. “That came out wrong. I don’t want you to bring gifts again, okay? You’ve brought so much?—”
“Well…” I eyed Hallie. Then I mouthed the word tricycle to Rob.
Slowly, he nodded. And looked panicked.
“With training wheels, my friend. We always take things slowly.” Even as I had the thought, I flashed to my nephew’s broken arm. “Helmet and pads included.” I glanced to see if Hallie was paying attention.
Clearly she wasn’t as she was coaxing her brother to eat a cracker.
Thomas gave her what I’d describe as a mutinous expression. “Well, he’ll be hungrier for dinner tonight, right?” I turned back to Rob. “You don’t have to wait for Christmas to have that dinner. I mean, Mama’s made enough so you’ll have leftovers for days. Heck, you’ll still have food Christmas Day.” I made a show of eyeing the kids. “Unless these two eat excessively…”
He offered a small smile. “We do okay, but definitely not as much as what all your mother sent.” His smile turned weary. “I’m not used to…you know…”
I longed to reach out and hug him, but that felt inappropriate. If he needed physical comfort, I’d be happy to offer it. I came from a touchy-feely family. Although, admittedly, that often came in the form of punching one another in the shoulder. “Why don’t we do something fun before dinner?”
“You’re staying?” Rob’s shocked expression had me wincing yet again.
“No, of course not. I just?—”
“We’d like you to stay.” He tried for a smile. “If you want.”
“Only if I’m not in the way.” Something in his expression spoke to something inside me that I didn’t understand.
“You’re not.” He glanced at his children with such loving affection that my heart seized. “I wouldn’t mind some…”
“Adult company?”
He met my gaze. “Yeah.”
“Okay…I’ll stay.” I straightened, trying to suck in my stomach. “What would you like to do in the meantime? Play? Walk?”
“I’d love a walk.” He eyed me with an expression I couldn’t read. “I’ve never seen the ocean.”
Don’t react. Don’t say anything. But…who the hell lives in LA and has never seen the ocean? I didn’t like the potential answers to that because I suspected they had something to do with the controlling ex-husband. Unless Rob had some weird phobia about the ocean. But if he did, then he wouldn’t have suggested it. “I’d love to show you the ocean.”
“Great.” He beamed.
I smiled back with genuine contentment.