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"Wait, what did you just say?" Taylor's eyes were huge. "You had to write a will?"
Debra nodded. "Every living donor has to know there is a risk that they might not wake up from the surgery. It's a tiny risk, of course, but you can't ignore it."
"Taylor," Justin said, "the risks of surgery are the last thing I'm afraid of."
Debra looked between the two of them, obviously taking stock of the situation. "Half the time, when people come to see me and hear my story, it's the potential donors who are unsure about taking this step. But the other half of the time, it's the people who need the transplant who are deeply conflicted." She looked at Taylor. "I take it you're having misgivings about allowing Justin to donate his kidney to you?"
"When I was first diagnosed," Taylor said, "and I started to read through the material my doctors gave me about living donors, it made me so queasy to think about anyone making that sacrifice for me that I never actually got all the way through it." Her face was pale as she added in a hollow voice, "I had no idea about the will."
"I'm not going to lie to you," Debra said. "It can be tough for both parties. My parents were..." She paused to search for the right word. "Let's just say they weren't exactly pleased with my decision. My mother must have found every horror story out there, every transplant that had ever gone wrong. On the plus side," she added with a quirk of her lips, "I definitely knew what I was getting myself into."
"Did you ever want to walk away?" Taylor asked.
"Sure." Perhaps Justin shouldn't be happy that Debra sounded so matter-of-fact about it, but he was glad she wasn't pulling any punches. The more information Taylor had, the better, even if all of it wasn't sunshine and roses. "I'm not a huge fan of hospitals or needles," Debra told them. "And in the middle of the night, those horror stories my mother found kind of got to me."
"But you went through with it anyway?" Taylor sounded as though she could barely believe it.
"There have been a few times in my life when I knew something was right," Debra explained. "Falling in love with my husband. Having my kids. Starting my business. And helping Maya--it was one hundred percent the right thing to do, and I've never regretted it."
"But what if you get sick one day?" Taylor asked. "What if your remaining kidney fails?"
"If that happens, I'll just have to hope someone will come along to help me the way I helped her."
"What about Maya?"
"She's doing well," Debra said with a smile. "At least, she was the last time we talked."
"Are you not close anymore? Even after you gave her a kidney?"
"Don't get me wrong, she's still super grateful. No birthday or anniversary or holiday passes without lavish gifts for me and my husband and kids. Too lavish, if you ask me. But just like everyone else, our lives are busy. I'm here, she's in Paris, and we both have our own families and businesses. We've seen each other when we can over the years, but she knows I'm not expecting her to be beholden to me for the rest of time. If I wasn't willing to donate without strings attached, then I shouldn't have done it." Debra turned her focus to Justin. "You've been pretty quiet over there."
"As a scientist," he said, "I prefer cut and dried, black and white, yes and no. But the deeper I go into all of this with Taylor, the more I can see that it's a complicated situation."
"For both of you," Debra agreed. "One minute you're confident, the next you're scared out of your mind. Hope turns to doubt in an instant, and then back again, like you're on a merry-go-round that's spinning out of control."
"That's exactly how I feel," Taylor said. "Up then down, forward then back, inside then out. I mean, I'm stuck in this situation no matter what, but Justin isn't. And when I think of the risks..."
Debra reached out to put a hand over Taylor's. "I wish I had the magic words to make it less confusing. I don't, but if you have any more questions at any point, I'm just down the road."
"Thank you." Justin and Taylor laughed as they both spoke at the same time, then stood to say their good-byes.
"I hope you'll accept a little gift from me," Debra said, handing them each a candle at the front door.
Taylor lifted hers to her nose to inhale a slightly spicy mix of lavender and rosemary. Justin's smelled just as good, like freshly picked lavender. "They smell incredible, and I love their shape. It looks so organic."
"Since I use natural ingredients for my molds, they break down a little bit with each candle. I figure since nothing is perfect," Debra said, "there's no point in pretending. Not even with candles." She gave each of them a spontaneous hug. "I know it might not be easy, but something tells me you two are going to come out of this okay. Good luck."
Justin was feeling good about their visit as they walked to the car and got in. Debra hadn't painted a perfectly rosy picture, by any means, but overall, it was obvious that no matter how she weighed the pros and cons, even with the distance of time, the positives of her experience far outweighed the negatives. It was, he hoped, exactly what Taylor needed to hear.
"I can't do this anymore."
On the verge of pulling out onto the street, Justin put the car into park and looked at Taylor with alarm. "What do you mean? Did something Debra said freak you out?"
"You mean in addition to the whole making a will thing?"
That had been pretty bad. But he'd assumed Taylor had already read through all of the material on donating. He wouldn't make any more assumptions going forward. "Yeah, something else."
"I don't know." Taylor scrunched her eyes shut and ran her hands over her face. "Actually, I do. From here until tomorrow, can we make a pact not to talk about any of this? Can we just pretend for the next fifteen hours that I'm perfectly healthy and that you're my new boyfriend and we're having a romantic weekend together in the wine country?"
Justin knew time was of the essence. Every phone call made today, every doctor visit, every bit of reading and scheduling and planning could be immeasurably helpful going forward. The opportunity cost of postponing any of it was bigger than he wanted to imagine.
And yet...
He could see how worn down Taylor was by it all--and he also knew that the additional stress couldn't possibly be helping. So even though it went against every last one of his science-based instincts, if it was romance she needed tonight, he vowed that romance was exactly what she would get.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Taylor was glad for the routine of setting up and serving afternoon tea for her guests. Making a batch of cookies, pouring wine, having a little light conversation, giving sightseeing tips and recommendations--it was all so normal. For an hour, she could be a B&B owner with not a care in the world other than making sure her guests were happy and her business was thriving.
Justin made himself scarce for most of the afternoon, and though even a handful of hours without him made her miss him--how had she made it through five years?--she knew he must need some time to decompress. They hadn't spoken about his mini-breakdown in the shower last night, but she couldn't forget the shaking of his broad shoulders as he'd bowed his head, held on to her, and finally given himself a break from being a pillar of strength and let some tears fall.
Today, nothing Debra said had seemed to faze him, but surely he must have some doubts, even if they were tiny. Then again, she seemed to have doubts enough for both of them. So many that she'd been unable to hold in yet another freak-out in the car after their meeting...
Her guests had all gone out to dinner in town by the time she finished washing and putting away the last of the teacups, wine glasses, and champagne flutes. She loved her B&B when it was bustling with happy voices, but tonight she was more than ready to head back to her cottage, draw a bath, and read a book. Whenever Justin got back, she'd welcome him with open arms and apologize for her totally unreasonable request--no matter how much she wished they could pretend that they were having a romantic weekend in the wine country, they couldn't. One day maybe they'd be able to steal that time together, but for now she had to accept t
hat doctor visits and medical tests took priority over everything else.
As she headed through the garden to her cottage, she was so preoccupied with her incessantly swirling thoughts and worries that she barely noticed the sun was just starting to set and the moon was rising on the opposite side of the sky. Even drawing a bath and sinking beneath the bubbles hardly soothed her, although it did help the ache in her side recede a bit.
If Justin were here, he'd know exactly what to say and do. He'd figure out a way to make her laugh. And he'd surely set out to make her knees weak too.
Longing for him even more now than before, she forcefully reminded herself that Justin already had to deal with a sick girlfriend--the last thing he needed was for her to become desperate and clingy, unable to function without him. That wasn't the woman she wanted to be. And she was certain that wasn't the woman he had fallen in love with.
Love. Justin's love made her feel more lucky than she'd ever been, even when in many ways her luck had never been worse. She wanted him to feel just as lucky, which was another reason she couldn't let every second they spent together be about her disease.
She'd said she wanted romance, but she hadn't done anything to make it happen, had she?
Just that quickly, an idea came to her--the perfect romantic plan.
Napa Valley was one of the most romantic places on earth. Thousands of proposals had been made in her town, thousands of brides and grooms had proclaimed their never-ending love to each other in nearby vineyards and wineries. All these years, Taylor had longed for the chance to be with Justin, and she wanted to make sure they celebrated fantasy becoming beautiful reality.
After getting out of the tub and wrapping a towel around herself, she called her friend Angie to ask if she could cover breakfast in the morning. Taylor hadn't planned to miss two breakfasts in her first week at the B&B, but these were extenuating circumstances.
Her next call was to a company that she never thought she'd actually work with. If only because she'd never been particularly good with heights. Of all the scary things she was facing lately, however, heights barely made the list.
She had only just disconnected and set the alarm on her phone for four thirty a.m. when Justin walked in. "Anyone home?"
"I'm in the bedroom."
