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A look of relief flooded her beautiful green eyes, and she glanced down at the suitcase by my side. “Mr. Atkins, Rory’s social worker will be here any minute or I’d take you to stow that in my car.”
“That’s okay. I don’t want to miss what he has to say.”
She looked up at me forlornly. “I’m not sure he’d speak freely in front of you. He barely tells me anything.”
“Well, why don’t I wait here and perhaps we can take him to lunch? Unofficially?” I asked. “Then we can stash the bag before we go.”
“I can ask.”
“Good. You better get back up there, then.” I nodded toward the elevator. “Tell Rory that I can’t wait until she feels better so we can dance again.”
“She’ll be so happy to see you. I don’t know how long this will take.” Her brows creased in apology.
“It’s okay. Just see if you can get him out to lunch with us.”
“I will.”
She rushed back to the elevator and pressed the button, before disappearing into it with five other adults. I wished I had been able to grab coffee or something light to eat before I came here, because there wasn’t a Starbucks or even vending machines in the lobby. I was both thirsty and hungry. The lack of refreshments was understandable, given the tight visitation policy, and I was sure there were options at other places for employees and the families of patients.
I was restless and found myself pacing back and forth in front of the big windows near the entrance. Thankfully, within about thirty-five minutes, Remi texted that they were on their way down.
I stopped and sat in one of the chairs to wait. I was not normally an anxious person, but this meeting had a lot riding on it. There was a certain level of trepidation because of the uncertainty surrounding Rory’s prognosis, and whether this social worker would allow us to help in any way.
My eyes were trained on the elevators, watching every time one of them opened to look for Remi’s slight form. When she appeared, I realized she was wearing the same clothes that she’d had on at the airport in Jamaica the day before and I wondered why I hadn’t noticed that earlier. There was a tall, middle-aged man with her who was carrying a briefcase.
When they approached, Remi introduced us, and we decided to walk a couple of blocks to a taco house that the gentleman suggested. On the way, I held Remi’s hand and let her lead the conversation.
“I’m so grateful that you decided to speak to us outside of the hospital, Mr. Atkins.”
“Remi, you can call me Jonathon,” the man suggested. “You as well, Dylan.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said. He seemed very measured but amiable.
“Rory’s situation is different than many children under my prevue in that she is ill, and she has no apparent family. I’m aware that you are the only stable person in that little girl’s life.”
“I’ve come to love her,” Remi admitted.
Jonathon nodded. “I can see that. She loves you, too. She talks about you every time I see her. She even mentioned you, Dylan.”
I smiled, as I was overcome with pride to be included. “I only met her once, but she made an impression on me, as well.”
We arrived at the restaurant and found a table in the corner, and after the waitress had taken our drink order, she left us with menus. The aromas were wonderful and the atmosphere colorful. The conversation continued as we decided what to order.
“Mr. Atkins,” I began. He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. “Jonathon,” I smiled as I corrected myself. “Remi and I are going to be married and while we both have commitments; we have a deep network of support in our families, and I’d be willing to hire a nanny or a nurse for the times when one of us couldn’t be with Rory. I know it’s not ideal, but given she has no family, we are hoping you’ll allow it.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, Dylan, but you are not a resident of Tennessee, and I’m afraid that’s a requirement to foster a ward of the state.”
I rushed to explain. “I’m a player on the national men’s soccer team and I have to practice in Kansas City, but it’s my plan to move here as my domicile.”
“I see,” he answered, pulling out a legal pad from his briefcase he began taking notes. “Sorry, I’m not much for technology. I prefer a pen and paper.”
Remi’s hand reached for mine under the table. “The main thing, though, is to find her a donor. You said in her room that you had the results from the DNA test?” she asked hopefully.
“Yes, and I’m not supposed to discuss health issues, Remi, you understand that,” Jonathon answered.
Remi nodded. “I do, but Rory is running out of time.” Her voice cracked and a muscle in her throat worked as she tried to contain her emotions.
“I understand that you’re desperate to help her, and given your history, I think you’re the best person to do it,” Jonathon answered.
