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14
Doe
“Are you sure this is his favorite dinner?” Mom asked as she mixed the dough for yeast rolls.
“That’s what he told me,” I assured her as I finished frosting the cake. It was a simple yellow cake with chocolate frosting, but it wasn’t the boxed cake mix or the tub of frosting from the grocery store. I’d make it all from scratch, and I was hoping Jenner would like it.
After I spent Monday night at Jenner’s place, he’d brought me home to grab a few things. Dad had been out, but Mom had been in the kitchen, and she’d insisted that I bring Jenner over for dinner. I figured that if he had to suffer through a meal with my father, he should at least be rewarded with his favorite meal.
Mom wouldn’t let me help with the pot roast and rolls, but I’d had this need to feed my boyfriend something made just by me. I’d texted him to ask what his favorite dessert was earlier in the day, and he’d told me about the cake. Growing up, every birthday party I’d ever been to, the cake had always been some extravagant, individualized creation from a bakery. Jenner’s birthday cakes—when he was lucky enough to get one—had been a simple yellow cake with chocolate frosting, which had turned into his favorite dessert because dessert had been a luxury he didn’t often get as a kid.
His answer had broken my heart a little more for the little boy I pictured him as every time he told me something about his childhood.
“Huh,” Mom commented. “I figured it would be steak.”
“Nope.” I finished frosting the cake and stepped back to admire my work. Licking icing off my thumb, I began cleaning up my mess. I could cook just about anything, thanks to Mom, but I tended to leave what was the equivalent of a natural disaster behind me.
I was elbows deep in dishes when my phone rang on the counter. Seeing the name on the screen, I quickly snatched it up before Mom could see who was calling. “This is Doe,” I greeted as I walked out of the kitchen and up to my bedroom.
Fifteen minutes later, I was sitting at my desk, my hands shaking ever so slightly. I never thought I would be nervous when this day came, but there I sat, my body trembling. This was real now. My tests had matched me with a patient who needed bone marrow.
I hadn’t imagined being matched so quickly. It could take weeks or months to get matched to someone, and for some donors, it might even be years. My hope had been that I could save someone as soon as possible, but I didn’t think for a single minute it would happen in the same week that I registered as a donor.
My first instinct was to call Jenner and tell him. This was huge news, and I wanted to share it with him first. I was about to do just that when I realized he still had no idea that I’d been planning this. Calling him out of the blue to tell him I was matched and would be undergoing a procedure to have bone marrow extracted from the back of my pelvic bone would probably freak him out.
Promising myself I would tell him after dinner, I texted my brothers to let them know what was going on. Those three would freak out big-time if I didn’t tell them what was happening.
Jackson: Letting Coach know right now. We will be there for the procedure. But we might have to fly back right after.
Me: You guys don’t have to do that. I know you’re busy with the season.
LJ: Don’t argue with us, Doe. We are going to be there.
Me: I’m not arguing. I just don’t want to cause trouble for you with your coach.
Bryant: If you have to do this, then we have to be there with you. Screw everything else.
Knowing they would be there with me made some of my nervousness fade, and my excitement started to bubble up. This was happening. I was going to get to save someone like my mother had been saved when she was sixteen.
Now I just had to tell her and Dad about it.
Sucking in a deep breath for courage, I walked back downstairs to the kitchen. Before I entered the room, I heard a faint moan and grimaced, knowing what I was about to walk in on. Sighing, I cleared my throat loud enough for them to hear me coming.
Mom’s hair looked wind-tossed, her lips kiss-swollen, and her eyes dazed. Dad was standing with his back to me, his gaze out the window over the sink as he took a drink of coffee. He hadn’t liked my staying with Jenner all week, but I was confident he had been enjoying having the house empty.
“I need to tell you two something,” I announced. “It’s important.”
“Honey, what’s wrong?” Mom’s eyes focused at the seriousness in my voice, and Dad turned to face me, his eyes narrowed with concern.
I waved to the table. “Maybe you should have a seat.”
Once they had taken their usual chairs, I sank into my own. “On Monday, I wasn’t just with Aspen. He drove me up to Nashville to a hematologist.”
Mom’s face went sickly pale right before my eyes. “Oh God!”
Dad’s hands shook as he reached for her. “Mari.”
“Guys.” I held up my hands, hoping to stop the nightmares I could already see forming in their eyes. “I’m not sick.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” Mom cried, burying her face in Dad’s chest.
Dad shot me a glare. “You could have started with that.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Reaching across the table, I grasped Mom’s hand. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Momma.”
“No, it’s okay,” she choked out. “I jumped to conclusions. You mentioned a hematologist, and I had a flashback of when I was sick. My biggest fear from the moment I found out I was pregnant with you and your brothers was one day going through something similar with one of you.”
“I know, and that’s why I’ve been thinking of becoming a bone marrow donor. I thought that maybe there was a mother, or other family members, out there experiencing exactly what you went through. I wanted to give someone else the chance to have a long, happy life, just as you were given when someone donated their marrow.”
I could practically feel the tension buzzing off Dad, but Mom’s face softened as she met my gaze. “Sweetheart, you have such a big heart, but are you sure this is what you want to do? I mean, this could take a lot out of you.”
“I didn’t decide this overnight. It’s something I’ve been researching and thinking about for years. Right after Uncle Drake had his liver transplant, I started looking into becoming a donor, but I wanted to help a blood cancer patient. As a kind of tribute to you.”
She looked at Dad, but his eyes were still narrowed on me. A nudge of her elbow to his side made him turn his head. The two of them shared a long look, and I could practically hear them having an unspoken conversation with just their eyes. As I watched, I prepared myself for the inevitable argument and to hold my ground.
Dad scrubbed a hand over his face in frustration. “You’re determined to do this?” he finally asked.
“I was matched today,” I told him, lifting my chin stubbornly. I might have looked like my mother, but I had inherited my stubbornness from him. If he wanted to fight me on this, I was prepared to go toe-to-toe with him. “I’m scheduled next week for the procedure.”
“That soon?” Mom whispered.
“I was just as surprised as you are. But apparently the recipient is actually one of Dr. Contreras’s patients.”
“Damn it, Doe,” Dad grumbled. “You should have told us about this sooner. Maybe we could have had a little more time to wrap our heads around it. Now you just spring this on us and expect us to be okay with it?”
“I don’t expect you to be okay with anything,” I told him honestly. “I knew I would have a fight on my hands. That’s why I waited to tell you. Your overprotectiveness knows no bounds. If it came down to me saving someone or you protecting me from whatever pain I might have to go through to save them, I knew what you would pick.”
“Because no one wants their baby to go through any pain if they can help it. I will choose your well-being over a complete stranger’s any day of the week.” He slapped his hand down on the table. “I don’t want you to do this.”
“Give me one good reason not to,” I challenged.
“It’s dangerous. You have to go under general anesthesia and then have your bones drilled into. There are any number of complications that could happen.”
I calmly folded my hands in my lap, having expected that particular argument. “It’s safer than driving, yet you have no problem with me getting behind the wheel of any of the vehicles in the garage.”
“Doe,” he growled in his frustration.
“Dad,” I growled back. “This is not me asking for your permission. I am going to do this. If you don’t respect my decision, then you don’t have to be there when I have the procedure.”
His face paled. “You don’t want me there?”
“I didn’t say that!” He was so damn frustrating I wanted to scream, but I held it back and tried to keep my voice steady. “I said if you don’t respect my decision, not that I didn’t want you there. I do want you there, Dad. But if you’re not going to support my choices, then I have no problem doing this all on my own.”
“You’re not doing this on your own,” Mom said firmly. “We will both be there. No matter what, we will always have your back, Doe.”
Dad muttered a curse under his breath, but he gave a nod. “I don’t like it, but I will respect your decision. You are an adult now, and I have to let you decide what you think is best for yourself.”
Relief filled me that he wasn’t going to fight me. “Thank you.”
“You’ve changed since you started dating this boy,” he complained. “You never used to be so…”
“No,” I denied. “I’m still the same. Maybe I have more confidence with him, but I haven’t changed. I’ve always been this stubborn.”
“Just like you,” Mom told him with a light laugh.
Dad’s lips twitched, but his own stubbornness wouldn’t allow him to fully smile. “Whatever it is, I’m not a fan.”
“You’ll get over it,” I assured him.
“Probably not.”
