by Nan Rossiter
“Touch the sky with your toes!” Kari called.
Rudy laughed as they swung back and forth, higher and higher until they were even with the top crossbar and the legs of the swing set were bumping off the ground.
“I wonder if anyone’s ever gone all the way around?” Kari called.
Rudy smiled wistfully, remembering how Harper had always wanted to do that . . . C’mon, Rudy, she’d shout. Let’s go all the way around!
“I’m gonna do it, Kari!” Rudy suddenly called. “Watch me!” Again, and again, she pumped her legs as hard as she could and leaned back as far as she dared as the swing swept forward, and then suddenly, as if she was a toy with a worn-out battery, she stopped pumping and the swing slowed. She dragged the toes of her pink sneakers in the sand, making them dusty.
Kari slowed down, too. “What’s the matter?”
Rudy shook her head. “The swings always remind me of Harper, and my mom found out that she’s back in the hospital.”
“She is? I’m sorry.” She put her hand on Rudy’s arm. “Is she going to be okay?”
Rudy shrugged. “I don’t know—she needs a new heart.”
“Oh, man . . .”
Rudy nodded. “I’m sorry to take the fun outta everythin’.”
“That’s okay. You want to head back home?”
Rudy nodded and they picked up their bikes, but as they rode home, they were each so lost in their own thoughts, they didn’t notice Mr. Glover backing his car out of his spot.
62
“HOW’D YOU SLEEP?” BEN ASKED, POURING TWO MUGS OF COFFEE AND handing one to Macey, who was lounging next to Keeper on his bed.
“Okay,” she said, taking a sip, “you know me—too busy worrying to get any decent rest to speak of. How ’bout you?”
“Oh, I’ve slept better, but Keep had a good night, and that’s all that matters.” They both listened to him snoring contentedly, just as he’d done all night.
She looked down and stroked his silky ears. “Those are some awfully nice steps Dad made for you to get up on the bed.”
Keeper opened one eye and thumped his tail, and Ben smiled. “We’ll have to move them back to Harper’s room when she gets home.” Macey pressed her lips together and Ben searched her eyes. “You can’t lose faith now . . . she’s going to come home. Isn’t that what your grandmother would say?”
“It is what Grandy would say, but she had a much stronger faith than me.”
“Well, your faith has taken some serious hits in the last few years, Mace. It’s understandable if it’s a little shaky.”
“Says Mr. Worrywart himself.”
“You’re right. I do worry, and I am worried, but I’m trying to keep the faith. Besides, you heard the doctor—he said she might even be able to play sports if the transplant comes through. That little spitfire could be your basketball protégé someday.”
Macey chuckled and started to roll her eyes, but stopped and smiled instead. “I hope you’re right, Ben. That would be something.” She sighed and gently lifted Keeper’s head off her lap. “I better get going. Are you going to stop by?”
Ben looked out the window. “I am . . . a little later, though. I’m going to take advantage of this nice day and get some work done around here. It’s starting to look a little neglected.”
“Maybe you could fix the drippy showerhead?” she suggested hopefully.
“Maybe,” he said, smiling and putting his arm around her, “but I’ll probably spend some time outside first, doing a little yard work. All the rain we’ve been having brought down a million willow branches.”
“A million?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Grandy always said if you leave a willow branch on the ground, it’ll become a new tree.”
“All the more reason I need to get out there. Last thing we need is more willow trees. So, between the branches and the other sticks and leaves, I have my work cut out for me.”
“So, nice day equals yard work. I’m sorry, my brain wasn’t operating at full throttle yet.”
“That’s okay. That’s why I made Fog Buster this morning,” he said, gesturing to her mug.
She took another sip. “And that’s why I’m taking it upstairs to my drippy shower.”
“Better drippy than no shower at all!”
Macey rolled her eyes.
“Thank you,” he teased. “That’s what I’ve been waiting for.”
She laughed. “Now, your morning’s complete.”
“Not quite,” he said softly, leaning down to kiss her. “Now, it’s complete.”
“Good,” Macey said, smiling. “Can I take my shower now?”
“You can indeed, missy. Get going . . . someone’s waiting for you.”
Macey nodded and headed up the stairs. She put her mug down on the bathroom counter, turned on the shower, and went into their room to find some clothes. She pulled out every drawer, hunting for her favorite pair of jeans, then turned and groaned when she spied them peeking out of the mountain of clothes overflowing from the laundry basket. She pulled them out, along with a long-sleeve T-shirt she decided could be worn again, grabbed some clean underwear from her drawer, hurried into the bathroom, and closed the door. As she undressed, she stopped to look at her reflection and ran her hand slowly over her flat abdomen. She bit her lip. “Maybe being a mom isn’t going to happen in the usual way . . . and maybe that’s been the plan all along. If so, I’m fine with it, but please don’t take this little girl from us. Please find her a really strong heart that will beat in her chest till she’s a hundred!”
63
CORA DID NOT HEAR THE BONE-CRUSHING THUD. NEITHER DID SHE HEAR the squeal of tires as Isaiah Glover pulled forward. All she heard was her next-door neighbor screaming, “Call nine-one-one! Oh, Lord Almighty, somebody call nine-one-one!”
She ran outside and saw Janelle kneeling on the ground next to a bicycle that looked like a mangled metal pretzel. And then she saw Mr. Glover struggling to get out of his car. “What the hell was that?!”
“Janelle! What happened?” Cora shouted. “Is that one of my babies?”
Janelle looked up and saw her friend coming toward her. “Cora! Thank God! Call nine-one-one!”
Cora stumbled forward as if on a blind trajectory. “Is that my baby girl?” she cried as she fumbled with her phone.
“No, Cora, it is not! Stay right where you are and make that call!”
Cora stopped in her tracks and did as she was told. In her panicked rush, she accidently pushed the speaker button.
“Nine-one-one operator,” said a calm female voice on the other end of the line. “What is your emergency?”
“I need an ambulance for a child who’s been hit by a car,” Cora shouted.
“What is your location?”
Cora blurted out the address.
“Is the victim conscious or appear to be breathing?”
“Janelle, is he breathin’?” Cora asked, sounding increasingly flustered as tears welled up in her eyes.
“Yes, she’s breathing,” Janelle called over her shoulder. “Tell them to hurry!”
“Yes, she’s breathing,” Cora repeated, noting Janelle’s use of a female pronoun and feeling it reverberate through her body like a shock wave. “Oh, Lordy! Please hurry!” Cora looked around for her children, but saw only Isaiah Glover leaning against his car with his head in his hands.
“We have an ambulance en route,” the dispatcher said, “but stay on the line with me until they arrive.”
“Okay,” Cora cried, trying to see the child Janelle was shielding from her view. She looked around the parking lot again and saw Joe and Kayden trotting toward them. “Thank God,” she murmured, and then commanded, “Boys, stay right there!”
The boys stopped as if they’d walked into an invisible wall and Cora turned back to her neighbor and stepped closer. She didn’t want to know the answer to the question forming on her lips but she absolutely had to know. “Janelle, who is it?”
&n
bsp; “Cora, I need you to keep an eye out for the ambulance,” Janelle said, cradling the injured child in her arms.
“Oh my God! Whose child is that?” Cora pleaded when she saw the familiar pink sneakers.
“Where is that damn ambulance?!” Janelle demanded.
But before Cora could repeat the question, the dispatcher answered, “It should be there any minute. In the meantime, can you please tell me more about the victim? You said she. Do you know her approximate age?
“Janelle . . .” Cora began, but then saw the boys edging closer. “Stay right where you are!” she commanded again. “Kayden, where is your mama?”
“Home,” he said, looking as if he might cry.
“Joe, have you seen Rudy?”
Joe shook his head. “No, Mama. Kayden and me was riding bikes over the jump.” He gestured over his shoulder at the piece of plywood propped on the dirt pile.
“Okay, maybe you boys should run over and get . . .” As she said this, the sound of a wailing siren filled the air and Cora’s sentence hung in the air as she hurried toward the road. “The ambulance is here!” she shouted at her phone, and before the dispatcher could even reply she ended the call and began frantically waving her arms. “This way! This way! Over here!”
64
“THEY THINK THEY MIGHT HAVE A HEART FOR HARPER!” MACEY CRIED into her phone.
“They do? Already?” Ben could hardly believe his ears, but then he stopped in his tracks and leaned on his rake, realizing what this also meant.
“I know,” Macey said, reading his mind. “It means another child is slipping away.”
“Yeah,” he said softly. He looked across the river at the pink Savannah sky. “It makes me sad and happy at the same time.”
“It is bittersweet,” Macey whispered, “but it’s the only way.”
“I know,” Ben said, biting his lip.
Macey waited for him to say more. “You there?”
Ben nodded and cleared his throat. “Yeah . . . yep, I’m here.”
“Can you come?”
“Yes. Just let me clean up and give Keep his supper. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Okay.” She tapped off her phone and looked out at the setting sun, replaying the conversation she’d had with the doctor just moments before. She had come back from the cafeteria with a cup of coffee, and he’d peeked into the room and motioned for her to come out. They’d stood in the hall and he’d told her he had a feeling they would have a heart by that night. It was highly unusual, he’d added, to have an organ become available so quickly.
Tears filled Macey’s eyes as she tried to imagine the heartbreaking decisions that the family losing their child was struggling with, and she couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to turn their world upside down. As badly as she wanted a heart for Harper, her own heart broke to think of the loss another family was suffering. She watched the sun slip below the horizon. Some people found the end of the day to be peaceful, but as beautiful as it often was, it always made her feel melancholy. What was it about the setting sun? Was she just tired by the end of the day or was she overly sensitive? Maeve often talked about how the setting sun affected the elderly patients who suffered from dementia, making them even more disoriented and confused.
“Hey,” a voice said, interrupting her thoughts.
Macey turned to see her sister. “Hey,” she said, mustering a smile.
“Mom said I’d find you here. How’re you holding up?”
Macey bit her lip. “I’m fine. They think they might have a heart for Harper.”
“Already?!” Maeve whispered in disbelief. “Does Ben know?”
Macey nodded. “He’s on his way.”
“That’s great!”
“It is great for us . . . but not for some other family.”
“Mace, you know what Grandy would say. . . .”
Macey nodded. “That it’s all part of God’s plan, I know. But how can I hope so much for something that will cause heartache for someone else?”
Maeve pressed her lips together. “It doesn’t always. . . .”
“It sure seems like it does. Just this morning,” Macey continued, “I was storming the gates of heaven for a heart for Harper, and not once did I really realize that I was praying for another child to not need theirs anymore . . .” She paused. “And now that God’s answering my prayer, I feel as if I’m responsible for someone else’s loss.”
“Oh, Mace, you know that’s not how it works.”
Macey shook her head. “I’m sure the other family is praying for a miracle right now. They’re praying their baby will wake up, smile, and be their old self. So why should my prayer be answered, and not theirs?”
“Mace, you’ve been praying to be a mother for years, and now that it’s actually happening, you’re questioning it.”
Macey shook her head. “I know,” she despaired. “But I don’t want anyone else to suffer.”
Maeve pulled her sister into a hug. “Your prayers are being answered, and it has nothing to do with someone else’s not being answered. I don’t know why it’s happening this way—no one does. It’s life—it’s the way things happen sometimes.”
Just then, the doctor appeared in the doorway. “We’re a go,” he said. “The nurses will be in to prep Harper for surgery soon.”
Macey bit her lip and nodded. “Okay.” Harper stirred and opened her eyes, and Macey looked back at the doctor. “May I tell her?”
“Of course,” he said.
“Tell me what?” Harper asked sleepily.
Macey sat down on the bed. “They’ve found a heart for you.”
Harper’s eyes grew wide. “They have?”
Macey nodded.
“When are they going to put it in?”
“Soon.”
Harper bit her lip as tears welled up in her eyes. “Is it a strong one? Because there’s no point if it’s not strong.”
“It’s a very strong one,” Macey said, silently praying this was true. “They wouldn’t give it to you if it wasn’t.”
“Okay,” Harper said, mustering a weak smile.
When Ben arrived, he gave her a confident thumbs-up and Harper returned the gesture. Moments after that, a flurry of activity filled the room as two nurses came in and started getting her ready. One of the nurses reached up to adjust the intravenous tube above her bed and as she prepped a new needle, Harper eyed it warily. “Has that been tested with horseshoe crab blood?”
The nurse frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean, hon . . .”
“Horseshoe crabs have blue blood,” Harper explained, “and it’s filled with stuff that fights infection by releasing goopy stuff that surrounds germs to keep them from spreading.”
“Is that so?” The nurse looked up at Macey and Ben and smiled. “I had no idea!”
Macey and Ben looked at each other in surprise. “We didn’t know that, either,” Ben said.
Harper nodded as if it was common knowledge. “It’s true. That’s why scientists use horseshoe crab blood to make sure medicine in needles is safe.”
“Well, I’m sure the medicine we’re giving you is safe, so no worries,” the nurse assured her as she adjusted the bag. “Now, Mom and Dad,” she said, looking up again, “it’s time to give your little girl a hug and a kiss because we’re all set here.”
Harper frowned. “They’re not my . . . ,” she started to say, but then stopped midsentence as Macey leaned down to give her a hug. It felt odd to have the nurse refer to Macey and Ben as her parents, but it also felt oddly comforting. After all, they had been nothing but nice to her since she’d moved in with them, and now, Macey had practically moved in with her while she was in the hospital. No one—except Cora and Mary—had ever treated her with so much kindness before.
Ben reached for her hand. “You got this, Harper!” he said. “Just remember how brave Keeper was when he had his surgery. If he can do it, you can, too!”
Harper nodded and pulled Bear against her
chest, but when the nurse realized she still had a stuffed animal with her, she said, “I think you better give that to your mom.”
Harper’s lip quivered as she looked at Macey. “Will you take care of him?”
“You bet,” Macey said. “I won’t let him out of my sight. Everything’s gonna be fine,” she added softly. “We love you and we’ll be waiting right here.”
Harper nodded and as soon as she let go of Bear, the nurse wheeled her out of the room. Macey watched them go and then looked down at the tattered old bear entrusted to her, and lightly traced the pink heart on his chest.
“She’s gonna be fine,” Ben said, squeezing her hand. “I have a good feeling.”
“You have a good feeling?”
“I do,” he said, pulling her closer. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
Macey bit her lip and nodded, hoping he was right.
65
MACEY LEANED BACK IN THE STIFF GREEN CHAIR AND GAZED, BLEARY-EYED, at the pile of magazines on the table in front of her—she’d looked through every one of them and then neatly lined them up in order of publication date, newest on top. “You should go home and let Keeper out,” she said, glancing at her phone. “It’s almost five.”
Ben stopped pacing. “I asked Gage to let him out and feed him.”
“Oh, okay. What time?”
“Soon, I hope.”
“Okay. I just hope the poor dog hasn’t given up on us. He’s never spent the night alone.”
“I’m sure he’s fine, but if you want me to run home, I will.”
“No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “You need to be here.”
“What time are your parents coming back?”
“I’m supposed to text my mom when we hear something . . .” Just as she said this, a doctor wearing scrubs walked into the waiting area, and Macey stood up and moved closer to Ben.
“Mr. and Mrs. Samuelson,” he said, smiling as he drew near. Macey and Ben both felt a wary relief when they saw the look on his face. “You are the foster parents of one spunky little lady.” His kind face looked tired as he continued, “When we were putting her under, she was telling us all about your dog, Keeper, and how he only has three legs, but because he has so much love in his heart he learned to get around . . . and she went right on talking about him until she fell asleep.”
