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Instead of settling on the small couch, Asher reaches out and wraps his fingers around mine. “Breathe.”
As soon as he gives the quiet command, I realize that air has become trapped in my lungs, and it escapes from my body in a burst.
“You still okay?”
Even though I jerk my head into a tight nod, I’m a mess of nerves, anger, and disappointment. All three whirl within me, jockeying for top position. Already, I know that coming here was a mistake.
"It's all right if you’re not. This is a fucked-up situation.” His voice dips. “Hell, I’m just a bystander and it feels like a twenty-car pileup on the highway with multiple fatalities.”
That description sums up this mess perfectly.
“I’m really sorry for dragging you into this.” He’s probably wishing he could ditch me and take off.
“That’s not what I meant. I’m just saying it’s a lot to deal with, and I wouldn’t want you here by yourself.”
Before I can respond, echoing footsteps catch my attention, and my head swivels in the direction of the hallway until my gaze lands on Tony. Just like his wife, he glances at me first before his eyes dart to the guy at my side and then back again. As soon as they do, Asher moves closer before slipping an arm around my waist. The knowledge that he’s at my side gives me the strength to straighten my shoulders and stand a little taller.
“Hello, Lola.” Instead of enveloping me in a hug, he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks. “Thanks for accepting our invitation. Sorry I wasn’t able to greet you at the door.”
As I continue to stare at the man before me, it’s difficult to believe there was ever a time when he was a permanent fixture in my life. That I ran to him when I scraped my knee, and he dried my tears. Or even that we share the same DNA. It feels more like I’m talking to a stranger on the street than anything else. Not even a distant, far-flung relative.
“No problem.”
The conversation sputters and dies as suffocating tension blankets us. It’s like we’re all players being forced to act out this bizarre farce. It’s a surprise when Tony steps forward and reaches out to shake the younger man’s hand.
“Hello, I’m Tony. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Asher.”
He doesn’t bother to ask who the guy at my side is or how we know each other, because at the end of the day, he doesn’t actually care. I wasn’t invited here so we can get to know one another on a deeper level and develop a relationship.
When another handful of seconds slip by, he clears his throat, pointing to the couch. “Why don’t you sit. Did Charlotte ask if you wanted anything to drink?”
“Yes, she’s getting it now.” I shift, uncomfortable in my own skin and feeling out of place.
Just as Asher and I settle on the sofa, his wife returns with a tray of beverages. There’s a couple of waters along with a diet soda and an expensive beer. She hands over our bottles before offering the alcoholic beverage to her husband and taking the silver can for herself. They both migrate to the longer couch situated across from us.
Unsure where we go from here, I busy my hands by twisting off the cap and taking a quick swig. My throat is as dry as the Sahara. Somehow, I don’t think twelve ounces of water will help solve that issue.
Charlotte’s hand flutters over her husband’s. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us.” They exchange a meaningful look before she continues. “We’re aware this isn’t an easy situation.” Her voice cracks with emotion as her eyes fill with tears, turning them luminous in the soft lamp light that floods the room. “We’ve exhausted all other alternatives. Cousins, distant family, donor lists.”
My chest tightens with every word that falls from her lips until it feels like a vise is squeezing it. Any moment, it’ll explode.
“I haven’t made any decisions yet,” I blurt.
“Of course.” Her tongue darts out to moisten her lips. “As grateful as we are for your consideration in this matter, please keep in mind that time is of the essence.”
“Yes,” I say with a nod, “Tony mentioned that.”
She swipes trembling fingers at a tear that treks down her ashen cheek. “It seems like every day, Kylie’s condition worsens. She’s on dialysis, but it’s not a permanent solution. It could take years, maybe longer, for a kidney to become available. Right now, you’re our best bet.”
The pressure of her words crushes me to the earth.
It’s a relief when Asher says, “Even if Lola decides to get tested, she might not be a match, right?”
Both of their expressions turn solemn as they nod.
“Yes,” Charlotte says. “The clinic will take a sample of Lola’s blood, along with a tissue typing to verify if her HLA antigens are compatible with Kylie’s. There’s also testing to make sure Lola is healthy enough for surgery.” She glances away before tacking on in a quieter voice, “That’s if you decide to go through with the donation.”
