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“June,” Lily’s tone is sharp, but I raise my hand to stop her.
“There’s no harm in testing. If I’m a match for you, then we can make final decisions.” Even the cursory scan of the paperwork shows the testing process is extensive, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes. “Thank you, Dr. Jones,” I say, determinedly. “Could you email me the forms I need to fill out to start the process?”
He looks between Lily and me. I don’t know what he sees, but he nods. “Elaine, at the nurses’ station, can help you with that.”
We shake his hand and leave his office. We aren’t even in the hall when Lily snags my sleeve and stops me.
“I can’t let you do this.” She’s got the stubborn tilt to her chin. I’m familiar with that look. It means she’s about to give me hell. “I’m an old woman. You are a young woman. I’m not a good place to put one of your perfectly healthy kidneys.”
“First, you’re not old. Sixty-two is still young.” I hold up a finger, counting off. “And second, you’re right. I’m a grown woman, and if I want to get tested to find out if my kidney matches my mother, then that’s what I can do.” I lift my hand when she protests. “And you’re my mother in every way that’s important.”
Her eyes soften. “I know, girl. But I don’t want to put you through that kind of risk. You have your whole life ahead of you.”
“I won’t let you just give up, Lily. You raised me to be strong, remember?” I take her arm and start walking down the hallway again. “Besides, it’s not like I’m doing this on my own. I’ll have the doctors and nurses guiding me through the entire process. And if it turns out I’m not a match, then at least we tried.” I pull her into a brief hug. “I want to do this for you, Lily. You’ve done so much for me. You didn’t just take me in, you raised me, loved me, and gave me a home. Now it’s my turn to give back to you.”
Tears fill her eyes. “I don’t want you risking your health for me.”
“I’m not risking anything. I already told you that. There are lots of people who donate kidneys to their loved ones. And you are loved by me. So let me at least look into it.”
She scans my face. “You’re sure about this?”
I nod, looping my arm through hers. “I’m sure.”
“What about your job? What about Duke and Tabby?”
“I don’t know. But as you said, that’s a job. You’re my family.” I give her hand a squeeze. “Let’s just see what happens with the testing, okay?”
Lily nods, still hesitant, but I can see the hope in her eyes as she heads off to get hooked up to her dialysis machine. I make my way to the nurses’ station. Maybe this is the solution, the way she can live longer, see me grow old, maybe even have children of my own someday. I’ll do whatever it takes to help Lily.
At the nurses’ station, I find out there’s a payment due for her treatments and that she’s not even close to meeting her insurance’s high deductible. I use my debit card and empty my bank account. When I sit down with Lily, I ask as gently as I can if she has any savings left. She admits she doesn’t but suggests that it’s time to consider selling some things from her storage. I argue, trying to think of any other way to avoid selling her prized possessions. But we both know there isn’t. Lily only accepts the truth faster. She not only has medical bills but needs to cover the costs of home ownership and everyday life.
We make a list of items she’s prepared to part with. She gives suggestions of their value, and the entire process hurts my heart. I mention that based on the paperwork, the cost of a kidney transplant might save money in the long run. Lily swallows that news like she’s drinking poison.
By the time I pull into the driveway at home, I’m mentally exhausted. Maybe that’s why I don’t immediately register the construction van there.
Unsure of what’s going on, I text Duke.There’s a handyperson here. Is that on purpose?He hadn’t told me about any scheduled work.
Yes. I hoped they’d be gone by the time you got back.
Is everything okay?
Yes. Tell me how it looks.
Since there’s no danger, I head inside and follow the sounds of construction upstairs. It’s coming from the playroom. I knock on the doorjamb as I step in, not wanting to surprise anyone holding power tools. “Hello?”
Inside, though, I pause, gasping.
Someone has completely covered the walls with bookshelves. The wood is bare—cherry or maple, maybe—but the structures are in place. Since the playroom has high ceilings, the amount of shelf space is significant. “Oh,” I sigh out.
An older man holds a nail gun on a ladder, and a younger man kneels on the ground amidst a lot of raw lumber. The older man smiles when he sees me. “You must be Miss Harlow.”
“I am.”
“I hope we’re not disturbing you too much,” the older man says apologetically. “We’re just finishing up the last touches. I’m Dave, and that’s my son, Mike.”
“What is this?”
The younger man stands up and brushes off his pants. “Duke wanted it to be a surprise.”
