How to Save a Life

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How to Save a Life Page 14

by Kristin Harmel


  I look up and see Jamie emerging from one of the elevators, his hands empty. He’s obviously on his way back down from celebrating Alison’s birthday on the cardiology floor, and I note that without Logan and me joining him, he was up there for much less time, which makes me smile.

  “Hi,” Jamie says, smiling at Logan, although I can see confusion in his eyes. On this version of today, he hasn’t met us yet.

  “You don’t know me,” Logan says immediately, “but I’m one of Caroline’s friends. I wanted to invite you out with us.”

  Jamie stares at him. “Caroline?”

  “Your daughter,” Logan says cheerfully.

  “Right, of course,” Jamie says, but his face is a bit ashen. “How did you . . . know her?” I can see the wheels spinning as he tries to piece together whether Logan is old enough to have been friends with Caroline six years ago, before she died. His expression relaxes a little, and I know he has settled on the conclusion that yes, Logan must have known his daughter back then.

  “Let’s just say she changed my life,” Logan says.

  Jamie blinks a few times and glances at me.

  “Sorry, this is Jill. My mom.”

  I’m startled to hear Logan use the word, though it’s music to my ears. He nudges me, and I step forward to shake Jamie’s hand.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “Have we met?” he asks, looking into my eyes.

  I settle for a shrug.

  “You look so familiar,” he says.

  Logan cuts in, saving me from having to answer. “Anyhow, we were just heading out to celebrate my birthday. Do you want to come?”

  I can feel my eyes widen, although I try to appear normal when Jamie glances at me. “You want me to come with you?” Jamie asks.

  “Sure,” Logan says cheerfully. “Caroline was always so good to me. It would be an honor to spend the day with her dad. If that’s okay with my mom, I mean.”

  “Uh,” I say as Jamie looks at me again. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

  “How old are you turning?” Jamie asks, turning to Logan. I know he’s buying time because he doesn’t know how to answer.

  “Thirteen,” Logan answers promptly, which earns him a raised eyebrow from Jamie, who is probably thinking that the poor kid doesn’t look much older than eight or nine.

  “Wow, thirteen?” Jamie replies. “Really?”

  “Technically, I’m only ten,” Logan admits. “But I’m dying, and I’ve always wanted to be a teenager, so today, my mom and I are celebrating me turning thirteen.”

  “Oh.” Jamie looks stricken. “But I’m not sure if it’s okay with your mom if I come.”

  I can feel my cheeks getting hot. “You’re welcome to come along if you’d like to join us.”

  He holds my gaze. “Well, of course, then. Thirteenth-birthday parties are the best. Where are we going?”

  “I don’t know,” Logan says, turning to me. “It’s a surprise.”

  I smile at him and glance at Jamie. “Well, come on, you two. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  It’s not until the three of us are in the car—Logan in the passenger seat and Jamie in the back, still wearing a perplexed expression—that I realize Logan and I forgot to ask the tree for one day more. We’ll have to do it when we return to the hospital.

  WE START THE day at Andretti Karting, where I’ve reserved a birthday cake and unlimited Bandit go-kart rides for Logan. He talks Jamie and me into joining him for several loops around the track too, and the three of us wind up laughing so hard afterward that Logan spits soda out his nose, which only makes all of us laugh harder. Logan blows out the candles on his cake as Jamie and I sing “Happy Birthday,” then we drive to an empty church parking lot, where Logan looks at me skeptically.

  “Uh, we’re going to pray now or something?” he asks. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Just wondering.”

  I laugh. “I was thinking more along the lines of teaching you how to drive.”

  Logan’s eyes widen. “But I’m only ten! I mean thirteen.”

  “Well, as far as I’m concerned, you’re a teenager. And teenagers drive. So are you ready, or what? I figured the go-karting would get you prepped.”

  Logan grins. “Oh, I’m ready.”

  I glance toward the backseat at Jamie, who looks amused. “You staying in the car with us? Or would you prefer I deposit you somewhere safe?”

  He laughs. “Oh, I saw your skills in the go-kart. I’d better stay here to help you two lunatics stay on course.”

  I smile at him as Logan and I climb out of the car. “Remember,” I whisper to Logan as we cross behind the back bumper on our way to switch seats, “we never asked the tree for one more day. So you can’t get too crazy here and get us hurt, because we’re not guaranteed a reset.”

  Logan gives me a look and sticks his hand out. “Just give me the keys. We’ll be fine. You worry too much.”

  “Spoken like a true teenager,” I mutter, but I’m smiling.

  Logan climbs into the driver’s side, and Jamie leans forward to help him adjust his seat. I begin to go through the basics of driving—how to check your mirrors, where the gas and brake pedals are, how to accelerate smoothly, how to steer—but Logan rolls his eyes at me. “You’re acting like I’ve never driven a car before,” he says.

  “Have you?” I ask with surprise.

  “Well, not exactly. But I’ve played plenty of race-car video games, and I’ve imagined it lots of times.”

  Jamie and I laugh. “Well then, by all means, go ahead. But I don’t want to see you going over ten miles per hour, or this little lesson ends, young man.”

  “Spoken like a true mom,” Logan says with a grin.

  He starts the engine, and I spend the next hour gripping the door frame with my right hand and the edge of the seat with my left hand as Logan does figure eights and loops around the parking lot, with Jamie calmly instructing him from the back. I’m so paranoid that he’s going to crash that it’s not until the final few minutes of the lesson that I realize how much this experience means to me. As Jamie continues to calmly provide pointers, and Logan grins with pride as he follows them, I relax into the moment and think about how if things had turned out differently, this could be my life. This could be my family. But it’s not in the cards, and that breaks my heart.

  An exhilarated Logan finally relinquishes the keys to me, and as we switch seats again, he’s grinning from ear to ear. “Best day ever,” he says as he buckles his seat belt.

  Jamie high-fives him from the backseat. “You were a natural, dude.”

  Logan nods. “I think I was. I was obviously meant to drive.”

  “Obviously,” I say.

  “Cool,” Logan says. “So I can drive back to the hospital, then?”

  I laugh. “Not a chance, mister.”

  He sighs dramatically, but he’s smiling.

  “One more stop, if you two have the time,” I say as I pull back out onto the main road.

  “I’m all yours,” Jamie says, locking eyes with me in the rearview mirror.

  “Yes, my social calendar is free,” Logan deadpans.

  “Good, smart aleck. Because it’s time for your birthday dinner.”

  Logan checks his watch. “But it’s only four o’clock.”

  “I don’t know about you,” I say, “but I’m starving.”

  Logan and Jamie agree, and we head to the Olive Garden, which Logan once told me was his favorite place to eat before he got sick. We order big plates of pasta, and we finish by splitting a piece of chocolate cake with a candle in it. I insist on paying, though Jamie puts up a valiant fight, and we’re headed back to the hospital by five forty-five.

  “That was a really awesome thirteenth birthday, you guys,” Logan says as we head into the lobby. Jamie and I exchange smiles. “Seriously,
” he adds.

  “Glad you enjoyed it,” Jamie says. “I have to say, you have a pretty cool mom to have planned all this.”

  “Oh, she’s not really my mom,” Logan answers cheerfully. “I just wish she was. But I’ll be dead soon, and so will she, so she won’t have time to adopt me.”

  Jamie looks at me with a frozen expression on his face. “What?”

  I glance at Logan, who shrugs, then I turn back to Jamie. “Inoperable brain tumor.” I tap my skull for emphasis, hating the lump in my head that’s betraying me, that’s taking away any chance of a future with this kind, gorgeous man.

  “God,” Jamie says. He blinks a few times. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah. I am too.”

  We stare at each other for a moment, and I swear, I can feel something crackling between us, electricity in the air. But then Jamie looks away, and the moment is over.

  “Logan,” Jamie says, bending down until he’s eye level with my favorite kid. “That was truly a wonderful day. I’m so glad you asked me to join you. I had no idea you’d known Caroline, but it makes me really happy to think she had any influence on you.”

  “Oh, she definitely did.” Logan pauses and cocks his head to the side. “But you haven’t asked me what I want for my birthday yet.”

  Jamie looks startled. “Oh, of course. I’m sorry. What do you want for your birthday?”

  “Logan!” I chide, but Jamie just smiles and waves me away while he waits to hear Logan’s reply.

  “I want you to take Jill on a date tonight.”

  “Logan!” I say again. I can feel my cheeks turning pink, but when I sneak a look at Jamie, he doesn’t look horrified. He looks amused, but his face has reddened too. “Feel free to ignore him,” I say quickly.

  “What if I don’t want to ignore him?” he asks.

  “What?”

  “What if I’d like to take you on a date?”

  I glance at Logan, who gives me a way-too-obvious thumbs-up. “Um,” I say.

  “Her answer is yes,” Logan interrupts brightly. “Can you pick her up in the lobby in an hour?”

  Jamie laughs. “Yes, I can definitely do that.” He turns to me. “If it’s okay with you.”

  I smile at him. “It’s very okay with me.”

  He high-fives Logan and says, “Happy birthday again, buddy. I’m really glad I got to spend the day with you.”

  “Me too,” Logan says.

  “I’ll see you in an hour,” Jamie says, turning to me.

  “See you then.”

  I wait until he’s heading for the front door and out of earshot before I turn to Logan. “Why did you do that?”

  “Because you only live once,” Logan says, “even if you get to do it over and over again.”

  “Which reminds me, we need to ask the tree for one day more.”

  Logan looks surprisingly sad as he nods. “You’re right. We do.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” He heads toward the tree and I follow. He stares at me for a long moment before taking a deep breath, placing his palm on the tree, and murmuring, “One day more.” And for the first time since Logan introduced me to the magic of the tree, a strange thing happens: no leaves fall.

  “Logan, what about the leaves?” I ask as my stomach twists.

  But he doesn’t answer. His eyes are closed, his features scrunched in concentration. “Okay,” he says a moment later, opening his eyes. “I understand. Thank you.”

  “For what?” I ask.

  He smiles sadly. “I was talking to the tree.”

  “But it didn’t say anything,” I say.

  “It did to me.” He reaches for my hand and guides it toward the tree. “When the tree talks to you, you’re the only one who can hear it.”

  “What did it say?” I ask. “Why didn’t the leaves fall?”

  Logan just shakes his head. “Ask the tree for your day, Jill.”

  I take a deep breath and nod. “One day more,” I ask, placing my palm on the bark.

  The tree vibrates like it normally does, but as was the case with Logan, no leaves fall. “What—?” I start to say, but the tree begins to whisper.

  “You have learned the things you needed to learn and lived the things you needed to live,” the tree says. “Now, you’ve reached the end of your journey. The next today will be your last.”

  “But I’m not ready,” I say, pulling back from the tree. “Please! I need more time!”

  Logan wraps his arms around my waist and I lean into him as I begin to cry. “The tree knows what it’s doing, Jill,” Logan says.

  “No! I still have things I want to do!”

  “I think everyone feels that way when they die, Jill,” Logan says softly. “But think of all the extra time we had, knowing it was the end. We lived differently because of it.”

  “But—” I begin, trailing off when I realize he’s right. Every repetition of today has been a gift, and I can’t get upset about that gift coming to an end. I close my eyes for a moment, centering myself. Then I pull Logan into a tight hug. “You’re right. We’re lucky.”

  “Yeah,” Logan says, squeezing me tight. “We really are.”

  TEN MINUTES LATER, I settle Logan into bed and sit down beside him in a chair.

  “So now what?” I ask.

  “When we wake up in the morning, it’s our last chance to get today right,” he says. “You have to do all the things you’ve figured out that will make the future better for other people, or it’ll be like they never happened.”

  “Like helping Sheila,” I say. “And letting Merel go peacefully.”

  Logan nods. “And making up with your dad. It’ll be the first of the five remaining days you have left.”

  I nod. “What will you do?”

  Logan smiles. “I’m a kid in a hospital bed. I’ll just stay here so no one gets suspicious. Oh, and maybe I’ll sneak down the hall to see Katelyn and Frankie too.”

  “We can see them again?”

  Logan nods. “Yep. The last today is the one that counts, so everything goes back to normal.”

  I sit there in silence for a moment thinking about everything. Logan. Sheila. Merel. My dad. Frankie and Katelyn. But then I think of Jamie, and my eyes fill. “But I can’t see Jamie on the last today, can I?”

  Logan looks confused. “Why not?”

  I look away. Yes, I’ve fallen in love with the man. And in a perfect world, I’d love more time to see if he’d fall in love with me too. But this world isn’t perfect. I know that as well as anyone. “Because I don’t want to hurt him.”

  “How could you hurt him?” Logan asks.

  I smile. It’s good to be reminded, once in a while, that for all his wisdom, he really is just a kid. “Because, Logan, he’s already lost a daughter. If I let him get to know me—and if he starts to develop feelings for me—losing me will hurt him. I don’t want to do that to him. Losing one person you love way before their time, well, that’s earth-shattering. But having to do it again . . . I can’t even imagine.”

  “I see what you mean. But still, don’t you think that when two people love each other, they’re better off being together, no matter what?”

  I consider this for a few seconds and shake my head. “No. I don’t. If I knew I’d have several years with Jamie, maybe it would be worth it. But for a few days, no. I can’t let him get hurt.”

  “But you can still see him tonight, right?”

  I nod. “But I think it will have to be the last time.”

  Logan nods solemnly. “Then you’d better make it count.”

  14

  FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, after thinking through exactly what I need to do on the last today and making sure Logan is soundly asleep, I’m waiting in the lobby for Jamie. My heart pounds as he appr
oaches, dressed in dark jeans and a dark gray button-down shirt. He’s freshly shaven, and as he comes closer, I can tell he’s wearing cologne.

  “You look beautiful,” he says, kissing me on both cheeks.

  I look down at my jeans and drapey black tank top skeptically. “I’m wearing the exact same thing I’ve been wearing all day.”

  “And you looked beautiful all day.”

  I smile. “Good answer. And you’re not so bad yourself.”

  “Ready to head out, then?”

  I shake my head. I’ve already thought about this. “I was thinking we could have dinner by the tree instead.”

  He looks surprised. “Really?”

  I nod. “There are some things I’d like to talk to you about. I took the liberty of ordering pizza. Half cheese, half pepperoni. Is that okay?”

  He laughs. “Pizza is the way to my heart. That sounds great.”

  The pizza delivery guy comes through the main entrance a few seconds later, and after offering to pay, Jamie goes to get sodas from the vending machine and paper towels from the bathroom while I get us set up on the bench beside the tree. Within a few minutes, we’ve established our own little picnic and are digging in.

  “This might be the best date ever,” Jamie says, moaning dramatically as he finishes off his second slice. He takes a sip of his Coke and smiles at me. “So you said there was something you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “Yes.” I set down the remaining half slice of my first piece of pizza. My appetite is gone. “It’s about the tree.”

  He glances at the ficus and then looks at me. “What about it?”

  I take a deep breath. I have no idea how to begin. “It’s magical.”

  He nods slowly. “I’ve always felt like that too. My daughter asked me to plant it, you know. Before she died. The fact that I’m able to help keep a small part of her legacy alive does feel like quite a gift.”

  “I know. But that’s not what I mean.” I reach out and touch the tree, comforted by its familiar humming. “I mean, it’s actually magical.”

  For the first time since we sat down, he looks concerned. “What do you mean, Jill?”

 

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