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“Abby’s going to be fine, baby,” I assure Ryder. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
I turn forward so the kids can’t see how much I don’t believe the words I just spoke. I can’t even bring myself to look at Chris. I don’t want to know how this is surely tearing him apart.
Chris drops me off near the emergency-room entrance, then he sets off with the kids to find a parking space. I race inside and dart toward the reception area. I don’t think the Jensens are here yet.
“Excuse me, miss. I’m here for Abigail Jensen.”
The woman behind the plexiglass divider has frizzy auburn hair pinned back in a silver barrette. She looks up at me from her computer keyboard with a bored expression. “Is she a patient?”
“Yes, she’s a patient! She was just brought in here with a heart attack and stroke. She’s… she’s eighteen.”
She nods as she recognizes who I’m talking about. “Oh, yeah. She’s in surgery. Are you the mother? I need you to sign some paperwork.”
I cover my mouth as I blink back tears and try not to answer this question the way I want to.
She looks stricken by my sudden gust of emotion. “I’m sorry, ma’am. If you need a moment to compose yourself, we can leave the paperwork for later.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m… I’m not her mother. Well, not legally. I’m her biological mother. Her adoptive mother should be here soon. Oh, God. Please just tell me she’s okay.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we don’t have any news. You’re going to have to wait until she’s out of surgery. I’m sure Dr. Givens will debrief you as soon as she’s stabilized.”
I turn around and Ryder races toward me. “Where is she?”
“She’s in surgery, sweetheart. We have to wait.”
Chris, Junior, and Jimi follow after him and we all walk solemnly toward the other side of the beige and blue waiting room. The Jensens arrive a few minutes later and they get the same spiel from the woman behind the glass, but Lynette bravely sits down with her to fill out the paperwork. And, as I watch her filling out the forms while periodically wiping away her tears, for the first time in my life, I wish I could help her. I wish I could fill out the damn forms about Abby’s medical history and insurance information. I wish I knew a damn thing about any of that stuff.
Six hours and forty minutes later, Dr. Givens enters the waiting room and we all rise from our chairs to flock to him. His brown skin shimmers in the fluorescent lighting, but it doesn’t hide how tired he is. He lets out a soft sigh before he begins.
“As you know, Abigail suffered a severe heart attack, which dislodged a tiny blood clot that most likely originated in her heart. The clot traveled into the outer branch of the middle cerebral artery in her brain, causing a minor stroke. We believe that she didn’t sustain any cognitive damage. But it turns out the heart attack was much worse than we anticipated.”
“How much worse?” Lynette asks.
Dr. Givens pauses for a moment then lets out another sigh. “The trauma of the accident caused Abby to go into circulatory collapse. She was very lucky that she was only six minutes away from the hospital. We were able to get her heart started again and we put a temporary stent in two of her arteries to keep them from collapsing again. However, both the collapse and the stroke have caused too much stress on her heart. She’s on a respirator and in a medically induced coma right now… She won’t survive much longer without a new heart.”
“Then get her a new heart!” Chris roars. “I’ll pay for it. I’ll fly it here if I have to. Just make it happen!”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“What do you mean? You can’t let her die!” Lynette shrieks.
“No, what I mean is that we already have a heart. Here in this hospital.”
Chris shakes his head. “That fast? Then, what are you waiting for?”
“Well, it’s a bit complicated. The eighteen-year-old male who was brought in at the same time as Abby… he had this in his wallet.”
Givens holds out a white plastic card. The front of the card reads “Living will in place for Caleb Everett. In the event of an emergency, please contact Gill Burrows.”
“We contacted Mr. Burrows and it turns out he’s the lawyer who drafted Caleb’s living will. Mr. Everett’s wishes were for Abigail to have his heart.”
My knees give out and I grasp the arm of the chair next to me to keep from collapsing. Chris and the doctor kneel next to me, repeatedly asking if I’m okay.
I shake my head. “This will destroy her.”
Givens orders Jimi to get me some water from the cooler in the corner of the waiting room, then he stands up so he can address everyone. “We have a legal obligation to carry out Mr. Everett’s wishes. In the event that he were permanently incapacitated, he wanted Abigail to have his heart. Since Abigail is an adult and she doesn’t have a living will in place, we have a legal and moral obligation to preserve her life to the best of our ability. This is her best chance.”
I climb onto the chair to have a seat and sip the water that Jimi brought for me. I can’t bring myself to speak. I couldn’t imagine living without Chris and I know Abby will be devastated when she wakes up to find that Caleb didn’t make it. I can only hope that having a part of Caleb inside her will make it easier, but somehow I seriously doubt that.
Chris stands up and I watch as he and Brian exchange a silent agreement. Then Brian turns to Dr. Givens and nods. “Do it. Save my little girl.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
THIS IS THE FOURTH time I’ve opened my eyes in this hospital room. The tube in my throat is finally gone. I have vague memories of my parents standing at my bedside, wearing gloves and masks. I think I remember being wheeled into an X-ray room. I’m so thirsty.
“Mom?”
A nurse in purple scrubs and a mint-green mask over her mouth arrives at my bedside. “How are
you feeling, sweetie?”
There are less machines beeping than there were the last time I woke up. My entire body feels sore, as if I did a hundred dead lifts recently. But the soreness in my chest is the worst. I’ve obviously undergone another heart surgery. I remember this pain.
“Where are my parents?”
“They went back to the hotel to change their clothes. They should be back in just a few minutes. Your… your other parents are outside. Can I send them in?”
“Where’s Caleb?” My voice cracks on Caleb’s name. “Why is it so cold in here?”
“You’re running a slight fever. You’re on a high dose of anti-rejection meds right now, and that suppresses your immune system.”
“Anti-rejection?”
The nurse finishes checking the drainage tubes coming out of my chest. “I’ll let your family explain everything.”
She leaves the room and I feel so alone. This room is so cold. It’s not a regular hospital recovery room. It looks cold and lifeless like a surgical room. And there’s a small antechamber off to my left where the nurse removes her gloves and mask before she tosses them into a waste bin. She steps out into the corridor for a moment, then she comes back into the antechamber with Chris and Claire. They spend at least five minutes scrubbing their hands and arms, then all three of them put on more gloves and masks.
As they approach my bed, something feels different. Quiet. Too quiet.
“How long have I been here?”
Claire’s eyes are puffy and glistening. “Fifty-two hours.”
“More than two days? Where’s Caleb?”
Claire opens her mouth to say something, then she stops herself and turns away.
