Chapter 27
By mid-November of that year, Dr. Scott told Helena she was in the clear.
“Your body has successfully accepted the transplant. You can move on with your life.” He told her there would still be plenty of appointments.
There would still be tests every two or three months, so they wouldn’t be strangers to one another.
But from a medical perspective, things would probably be all right.
Helena and Matteo sat speechless in the doctor’s office, their hands clasped. For whatever reason, Helena had expected another diagnosis. She’d expected everything to fall apart.
Instead, Helena had been given the gift of more life. Years after her initial diagnosis, years after she’d boarded herself up in her house in Orangeburg, a doctor was telling her to go out and live!
In the parking lot, Matteo and Helena sat in the front seats of Helena’s ancient Chevy and laughed aloud. One of the first snowfalls of the season fluttered down, melting on their windshield. They were too adrenalized to go home immediately.
“I made us a reservation,” Matteo confessed. “At the first restaurant we ever went to.”
It was hard to believe it had been more than a year. The year they’d spent together had felt like ten, in both good and difficult ways. They’d grown together, both literally and figuratively. Helena leaned over and kissed Matteo on the lips.
But when Matteo turned the key in the ignition, the Chevy rumbled, then cut out.
He tried again, and nothing happened. Helena threw her head back in laughter.
After decades, her car had finally given out on her.
But she’d never bothered to get another one, because she’d thought it would outlive her.
“I can’t believe it!” she cried. “I outlived my car!”
Matteo kissed her more passionately this time.
Filled with laughter, they got out of the car and hailed a taxi to take them to the fish restaurant.
Although Matteo had made a reservation, the table was empty, and the server told them they could pick any table they wanted.
They couldn’t sit outside, like last time, but they sat on the other side of the window so they could have the same view.
They ordered more food than they could eat at once, plus a bottle of nonalcoholic champagne to toast with. The server asked if they’d gotten engaged or something, and Matteo blushed and said, “Not yet.” But Helena sensed it was coming. She could feel the question bubbling between them.
Matteo leaned over his platter of buttery fish and whispered, “I do want to spend the rest of my life with you, if that wasn’t clear.”
“I think it was clear when you let them cut you open for me,” Helena said, smiling.
The server was walking past, and she made a face because she couldn’t possibly understand what they were talking about. Helena and Matteo couldn’t suppress their laughter.
It was then that Matteo pulled out a photograph. It was the same one they’d been carrying around for the better part of a month: a baby born in Romania. The baby was a little boy whose parents had died in a car accident—just like Jenny had.
They’d been hemming and hawing about it all month, with the idea that they would make a decision when and if the doctor cleared Helena with a full bill of health.
That had finally come.
“Let’s do it,” Helena breathed.
They didn’t hesitate to call the adoption agency. Because nobody else was in the restaurant, they put the agent on speakerphone (much to the server's annoyance) and told her they were ready to make it happen. The agent was pleased.
“Can you come to Romania next week?” she asked. “Sometimes these things have to move quickly.”
“We’ll be there,” Helena said, although she’d never even been on a plane before. But they’d gotten passports ready a month ago, just in case this happened.
“You’re going to be wonderful parents,” the agent said. “Talk to you soon.”
As soon as the agent hung up, Matteo and Helena were on their feet. The server returned with a big plate of apple pie and ice cream with a candle stuck in the middle. She was beaming at them, clearly no longer annoyed.
“I couldn’t help but overhear,” she said. “I’m so thrilled for you.”
Suddenly, the server was the best person they’d ever met.
They thanked her, poured her a glass of nonalcoholic champagne, and clinked glasses with her.
The server told everyone back in the kitchen that they were going to adopt a baby, and they showered them with more treats and demanded that they try more appetizers.
By the time Helena and Matteo left the restaurant, they were stuffed to the gills and terribly, terribly happy.
That night, Helena texted Bethany a photograph of their new baby, the baby they would soon carry in their arms.
HELENA: I’m going to be a mother.
Bethany called her immediately. Like any best friend, she needed to know every single detail about Helena’s brand-new phase of life. And how wonderful it was, Helena thought, that she’d been given more time.
It was all because of Matteo. It was all because of Matteo’s love.