Chapter 9
The pre-op area smelled of antiseptic and fear, the sharp chemical scent doing nothing to hide the anxiety that seemed to fill every surface. Jewel sat in a hard plastic chair between two curtained-off bays, clutching her hands tightly in her lap to keep them from trembling.
To her left was Susan, lying on a gurney with an IV already snaking into her arm, her silver hair covered by a blue surgical cap that made her look even smaller and more fragile.
To her right, Cole occupied an identical bay, his tall frame looking almost comically large on the narrow bed, his facial muscles working as a nurse checked his vitals once more.
This morning had been brutal.
Saying goodbye to Beckett had struck her deeply in ways she hadn’t expected. The little boy was confused about why they were leaving so early. He had asked multiple times why he couldn’t go to the hospital, even promising to sit still during the surgery if they allowed him to come.
But it hadn’t taken long before he noticed Cole’s fear. What had started as confusion quickly turned into tears as he clung to his father, his small hands fisting and gripping Cole’s shirt.
“Don’t go, Daddy. Please don’t go.”
Cole had knelt to hold his son close, his hands trembling as he smoothed Beckett’s blond hair. “I have to go, buddy. Grandma needs my help. But I’ll be back before you know it.”
“What if you don’t? Don’t go away like Mommy!”
The raw terror in that small voice had made her throat tighten. She had watched Cole’s face crumple for just a second before he pulled himself together, forcing a smile that looked far too tight.
“I’m coming back. I promise. Jewel will be back soon, and Uncle Conrad and Aunt Sylvie will be right here with you the whole time.
” His voice had cracked slightly as he looked at the dog, who was staying slightly back and panting, clearly sensing the tension.
“And Scout’s here to take good care of you, too. ”
Conrad had finally stepped in, gently pulling Beckett away from Cole’s arms despite the boy’s protests. Sylvie wrapped an arm around the crying child, murmuring calming words, while Scout pressed close to him, his soulful eyes alert and worried.
The image of Beckett holding onto Scout as they drove away was burned into her memory. His tear-streaked face pressed against the dog’s black and white fur, his small body trembling with sobs.
What if his father didn’t come back? What if something went wrong?
Pushing the awful thought aside, she tried to concentrate on the present. On the beeping monitors, the hushed voices of nurses, the squeak of rubber soles on linoleum floors.
Conrad and Sylvie were incredible. They had stayed up late, helping with preparations and making sure everyone had what they needed.
Even Conrad was unexpectedly gentle with his mother this morning, holding her hand and reassuring her she would be okay.
The cold tension between the brothers had softened in the face of this crisis, replaced by something that almost looked like the family they once were.
Jewel looked up when a doctor in green scrubs appeared.
He was consulting a tablet and addressed the nurses, ignoring her and the two patients.
“We’re going to take them back in about ten minutes.
The donor will go to OR Three, the recipient to OR Four.
As soon as we’ve completed the extraction, we have to get the kidney transported as fast as we can. ”
Separate OR rooms. Of course they’d be in different rooms. She had known that intellectually, but hearing it confirmed made it more real—and more frightening. Cole would be in one room, unconscious and vulnerable, while they removed his kidney, and Susan would be in another, waiting to receive it.
Two separate surgeries. Two different surgical teams. Two opportunities for complications.
The doctor kept speaking, this time looking at her.
“Surgery on the donor usually takes two to three hours. The recipient’s surgery takes a bit longer, typically three to four hours.
We’ll keep you updated as things move forward.
” Then he vanished behind another curtain, leaving her with only the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
From the bay on her left, Susan’s voice drifted over, calm and steady. “Jewel, dear, could you come here for a moment?”
She stood on unsteady legs and moved to Susan’s side. The older woman looked peaceful, her face relaxed in a way she hadn’t seen in months. The fear and worry that had etched lines around her eyes seemed to have smoothed out, replaced by something that looked like acceptance.
She took Susan’s hand. The skin was cool and papery thin. “How are you feeling?”
Susan smiled, and it was genuine. “Oddly calm. I’ve been through so much these past months with the dialysis, the exhaustion, and the constant fear of what comes next. And now it’s out of my hands. Whatever happens, happens.”
“Susan—”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve made my peace.
” She gently squeezed Jewel’s hand. “If this works, I get to watch my grandson grow up. And if it doesn’t, then at least I know we tried.
That’s what matters.” The resignation in her voice was both soothing and frightening.
Susan had let go of the outcome, had surrendered control.
But Jewel couldn’t. Not yet.
When a nurse came over to check Susan’s IV again, adjusting the flow, Jewel took the opportunity to step over to Cole’s bay.
He was staring at the ceiling, his blue eyes unfocused, with one hand resting on his stomach.
He’d already changed into the thin hospital gown that made him appear both vulnerable and surprisingly large.
His blond hair was tucked under a surgical cap, and an IV was inserted into his left arm, the clear fluid dripping steadily.
“Hey.” She leaned slightly forward.
His eyes met hers, and the fear she saw there made her chest ache. This wasn’t the calm acceptance Susan had displayed. This was raw terror.
“Hey.” His voice was rough, like he’d been swallowing sand.
She moved closer, her hand reaching for his where it rested on the thin blanket. His fingers immediately curled around hers, holding on to her like she was an anchor in a storm.
“How are you doing?” It was a stupid question. She could see exactly how he was doing.
He swallowed hard. “I’m terrified. I keep thinking about Beck. About this morning. The way he looked at me like he was saying goodbye for the last time.”
“You’ll be fine. This is a routine procedure. Thousands of people donate kidneys every year.”
“I know. The doctors explained all the statistics. Less than a one percent chance of serious complications. Very low risk.” His jaw tightened. “But that one percent could mean Beck grows up without a father.”
She tightened her grip on his hand. “That’s not going to happen.”
His eyes met hers, desperate. “You can’t know that. No one can know that. And if something does happen, if I don’t wake up—” He paused, his breathing quickening. “Jewel, I need you to promise me something.”
“Cole, you will wake up.”
His other hand rose to hold hers as well, both of his hands now wrapped around her one. “Please. Promise me you’ll watch over Beck. If something happens to me, promise you won’t leave him. That you’ll make sure he’s okay. That he has someone who loves him while he grows up.”
Tears burned at the backs of her eyes. “Of course I will. But you’re going to wake up, and you’ll be fine, and you’ll get to watch him grow up yourself.”
“But if I don’t—”
“I promise to take care of him no matter what.” Her words came out fierce and determined.
The relief that washed over his face was almost hard to watch. His shoulders dropped, and some of the tension left his body. “Thank you.”
They sat in silence for a moment, her hand still held in both of his, with the beeping of monitors and distant voices filling the space between them.
Finally, he spoke in a hushed voice. “I’m scared. I’ve never been this scared in my life. Not when Vivian left. Not when Mom collapsed. This is…different. More.” He seemed unable to find words big enough to describe his fear.
Without thinking or planning, she leaned forward. Her free hand rose to cup his cheek, feeling the roughness of stubble he hadn’t shaved off that morning, the warmth of his skin, and the slight tremor that coursed through him.
“You’re going to be all right. You’re strong, stubborn, and you have too much to live for to let anything happen.”
His eyes searched hers, and she noticed a change within them. Something that appeared to be hope blended with longing and a thousand unspoken feelings.
And then she kissed him.
It wasn’t like the kiss they’d shared in the kitchen months ago.
That had been powerful, questioning, full of possibility.
This was something completely different.
It was a mixture of fear, promise, and desperation.
It was her way of telling him without words that he had to come back, that she needed him to come back, and that Beckett needed him to come back.
His hand lifted to tangle in her hair, pulling her closer despite the awkward angle. She could taste the salt of tears—whether they were his or hers, she didn’t know—and she felt the rapid pounding of his heart where her hand rested against his chest.
When they finally separated, both of them were breathing heavily, with his forehead resting against hers.
“Jewel—”
“Shh. Don’t. Just come back to us, okay? Come back to Beck. Come back to—” She stopped herself before she said something she couldn’t take back. “Just come back.”
His voice was steadier now, stronger. “I will. I promise. I will.”
A nurse appeared in the opening of Cole’s bay, her scrubs decorated with cheerful cartoon bears that seemed oddly out of place. “All right, Mr. Blackwell. It’s time.”