Still Rattled

by Charles, Jane

  He leans forward and nods. “I’ll do that, but I’ll have to make a case for the exception.”

  “So, what is next?”

  “Assuming we are allowed, your daughter will need a blood transfusion. As you are the biological mother, and a match, it would be best coming from you.”

  “I researched this online last night. Is it true the only cure is a bone marrow transplant?”

  “It isn’t always, but that is the best chance of curing it.”

  “Then why not take my bone marrow? Anything you need.”

  “First, it is extremely rare that a parent can donate bone marrow. Those tests are still being run. The best match is usually a twin or sibling, but since the child does not have a blood related brother or sister, we are hoping you will be a match.”

  “How soon will you find out?”

  “It won’t take that long. But, we still need to jump through the same hoops. Similar rules apply for giving marrow as they do for blood following a tattoo.”

  Kelsey sits forward and grabs the desk. “You’ve got to convince them. This is my daughter.”

  He meets her eyes. “I understand, Miss Fry, but you also need to protect you daughter and make certain she is safe.”

  She takes a breath and sits back. “If they reject me?”

  “We keep searching for donors. There are several people in the system willing to offer up blood and marrow, but with her blood type, it’s going to be a difficult match.”

  Kelsey nods.

  “I understand you don’t have any siblings.”

  “No. I had an older brother but he died at birth.”

  “What?” I ask. “You never said anything about a brother before.”

  Her shoulders slump. “My mother got pregnant in high school and came to New York. She told me her baby died at birth.”

  “I thought it was you she got pregnant with when she got kicked out.” Has Kelsey been telling me half-truths all this time?

  She shakes her head. “I just wanted to tell you the basics then. I didn’t think we’d be spending this much time together, or that we’d be what we are.”

  “You could have mentioned it since.” Why the hell does it bug me that she held back some facts?

  “Frankly, I didn’t even think about it, and then, when the show aired, it didn’t occur to me to clarify anything.” She squeezes my hand. “I’m sorry. It just didn’t seem so important.”

  A lot has happened to her, and it’s not like she has a brother stashed away that she didn’t tell me about.

  “She got pregnant with me shortly after that, so it’s not like my mother could have gone home. Even if she wanted to.

  “Well, hopefully we’ll have better luck with the child’s biological father,” Dr. Prescott says. “We are looking for family members how.”

  “Brandon was an only child.”

  I am so exhausted by the time we leave the hospital that I just want to take a long nap. After meeting with the doctor, he kicked Mary and Alex out of the office and proceeded to ask me all kinds of personal questions from drug use to sexual activity. If the family would have just gotten ahold of me before Thanksgiving, I would not have gotten a tattoo nor would I have given Alex a blow job. As Alex had been my only sexual partner since Brandon, the doctor then asked Alex a bunch of questions about his drug use, last tattoo, sexual history, and then sent him to the lab before taking me into an examination room to make sure I was physically healthy.

  By the time he was finished, Alex and Mary weren’t back, so I texted them that I was finished and headed toward the lab again. They were just coming down the hall when I got off the elevator. Alex was pale and Mary was grinning. He shot her a warning look of some kind and she sobered, but she was also biting her lip, as if she was trying to keep from smiling.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” Alex answers really quickly.

  I look at Mary. She just shrugs.

  I don’t have the energy right now. She probably teased him again about needles and blood or something. Hell, she could have been grilling him about Dylan. I really don’t care. I’m fucking exhausted and want to get out of this hospital.

  But, I really don’t want to go back to the apartment and deal with Shelby either and neither does Mary. It’s not like we have any place to be. The semester is over, as is my job at the bookstore, and Mary doesn’t plan on leaving to see her family for Christmas for a few more days and asked to tag along with us. She is concerned about me, and I get that, but I’m sure her coming to the brownstone has more to do with running into Dylan, not that I care. Mary has only met him a few times, but she is not going to let up until she knows him a hell of a lot better.

  The house is in chaos when we get there. Or at least it seems that way from the number of bodies in the living and dining room and the noise.

  Christian is in the living room, playing his saxophone, stopping a few times to write out music. Zachary is fixing the hair of some guy, who I assume is a drag queen too, since it is a dark, flip style wig he is putting on. Ryan is in a chair, feet up on the table and flipping through photographs on his laptop while Sean is sanding the stairs. At least, I assume that’s what he’s doing from the few HGTV shows I’ve seen.

  “Where’s Dylan?” Alex asks.

  “Took his laptop and headed out. Said there was too much noise for him to work,” answers Ryan.

  “Just my luck,” Mary whispers.

  “Christian can’t work on his music in his room because it shares a wall with the neighbors. They complain,” Alex explained.

  The only guys that have met Mary are Sean, Dylan and Alex, so I introduce her to Christian, Zachary and Ryan.

  “You know, if they came and hung out at our place doing all this, Shelby might move out.” Mary laughs.

  “We wouldn’t be so lucky,” I mutter. “Besides, we could end up with someone worse.”

  Mary snorts. “There is no worse than Shelby.”

  The guy Zachary is working on goes into the bathroom and comes out a second later. “Looks good, man. Thanks.” Then he hands cash to Zachary after he boxes the wig up for the guy to take with him. As soon as he’s gone Sean stops sanding, Ryan closes the laptop, Christian puts down his sax and Zachary comes into the living room.

  “What’s going on?” Ryan asks with concern.

  I can only blink at them. They are all serious looking from me to Alex to Mary and back.

  “What do you mean?” I finally ask.

  “Kelsey, you look as if you haven’t slept in days, and Alex is tense as hell. Something happened,” Sean says.

  “Besides,” adds Christian. “When Alex left, he was telling me that he was going to be alone with you all weekend and not to expect him. Now he’s back, with you and Mary.”

  Geez, how fucking observant are these guys?

  A hell of a lot more than I realized, apparently.

  Alex and Mary look at me. They won’t say a word if I don’t want to, and it’s my life to tell. But, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I don’t want to break down in front of the guys, but it’s not like I need to keep this a secret from them either. “You two tell them.” I plop down on the couch and snuggle into the corner, wishing I could sleep for a week.

  Alex starts with my child, the adoption and the call from the parents. When the guys start asking questions more medically related, Mary explains. She’s got this covered, and even though I was with the doctor and heard everything he said, I’m still not sure I get it.

  “AB blood is really hard to find,” Mary says.

  “Harder than mine,” Christian says.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “I’m A negative. The Red Cross loves me. I can expect a call from them about every two to three months.”

  Mary just shakes her head. “Three rare blood types in one room? First Kelsey’s daughter, then Kelsey and now you? Really weird.”

  “Honey, stranger things have happened around here,” Christia
n laughs. “Tell the doc that he can have my blood, Kelsey. I gave at the end of October, and they should be calling to schedule me again shortly. I’ll just put it off in case your little girl needs me.”

  My eyes mist. “Thanks, Christian.”

  “Brandy can only get AB negative or positive,” Mary says. “Besides, it’s the stem cells that will be tricky,” Mary adds. “They need to match more than just a blood type.”

  Christian looks at the other guys. “You should be giving blood too.” He nods to the chalkboard on the wall, the one with Pay It Forward. “You could save a life.”

  “The Red Cross or the Blood Center does take walk-ins, and I’m sure somebody, somewhere is holding a blood drive right now.” Mary grins and grabs her phone. “Here is one and it’s close.” She rattles off an address. “At least go down and let them type you, test your blood and see if they want you.”

  The guys share a look. They want to help, but giving blood was probably not at the top of their list for fun activities for the day.

  Then, as if in silent agreement, they grab their coats. All except Alex and Christian.

  “You too, loverboy,” Mary says to Alex. “They typed you today. You’re O neg, everyone’s favorite.”

  “I should stay with Kelsey,” he argues.

  “I’ll be fine. Give blood. Somebody else’s kid out there might need it right now.”

  I can tell he’s torn with going and staying with me by the way he glances at the guys and back.

  “Go!” I insist. “I’m going to nap anyway.”

  “Fine,” he blows out.

  “I’ll go along to warn them you’re a fainting risk,” Mary giggles as they head for the door.

  I am never going to live this down. Ever! Mary knew this was a bad idea when she shoved me out the door. Hell, she was with me when they took blood at the hospital, just a tube, and I nearly passed out. What the hell did she think would happen here?

  “I can’t believe you got light-headed.” Zachary laughs while eating a little cake.

  “Was it the blood or the needle?” asks Sean.

  I have to look away from him. He’s still in the chair, a needle in his arm, blood being sucked from his body.

  “Somebody needs to sit down again.” Mary practically laughs at me then pushes me into a chair.

  “Aren’t you a nursing student or something?” I ask.

  “Yep.”

  “Your bedside manner needs work,” I grind out and close my eyes, waiting for some of the dizziness to pass. I am such a fucking wimp. It’s just blood and needles. Okay, they are really long needles, going into skin and veins.

  “Quit thinking about it,” Mary orders. “That green tone of your skin clashes with those lovely blue eyes.”

  I just glare up at her. “This is all your fault.”

  “How is it my fault? I didn’t make you come here.”

  “You would have been on my back until I did.”

  “Maybe if you watch, it won’t be so bad,” Ryan suggests.

  I glance over, and they are just about to stick the needle into his arm, and he’s fucking watching while they do it.

  Everything around me starts to darken. Mary places her hands on my cheeks and turns my head. “Don’t watch.”

  She won’t have to tell me that again.

  “I just can’t wait to see what he does when it’s his turn.” Zach laughs.

  “I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” I finally mumble.

  “Somebody’s kid may need your blood,” Mary echoes Kelsey’s words.

  Shit! Kelsey will want to know how it went, if I gave blood and if I tell her I couldn’t, well, I don’t know what she’ll think of me, but it won’t be good. I had to practically bribe Mary not to tell her I almost didn’t make it through a simple blood draw. The last thing I want is to appear weak in front of Kelsey, especially after she sat there and gave tubes of blood this morning without blinking an eye.

  “Mr. Dosek,” the blood lady calls, standing by an empty chair. “You ready?”

  “He’s never going to be ready.” Mary laughs.

  “Let’s do this.” I push myself up, hating that my legs are all wobbly and shit, and practically fall into the recliner. I try not to look as she swabs my arm, looks for a vein, and then pricks into my skin.

  I wake to someone tapping me on the face. A concerned nurse is looking in my eyes while another has a blood pressure cuff around my left arm. I blink and look around. Shit. I passed out.

  “I hope to hell nothing seriously ever happens to you because you won’t be able to survive even the most minor tests.” Mary is shaking her head.

  “Did they get enough?”

  “Almost there. Shouldn’t be long now.” She laughs. “They almost had to stop because you weren’t coming to and your blood pressure dropped. When I told them you were just a wimp and didn’t have a medical condition, they didn’t yank the needle.”

  Almost there? Does that mean…? I start to turn my head.

  “Oh no, you focus on me or you’ll be out again and this will all have been for nothing.”

  I’m kind of aware of the needle in my arm, but it’s not like it’s painful or anything. That doesn’t really help settle my stomach though. I swallow against the bile and take deep breaths. I may have passed out, but I sure as hell am not going to get sick in front of these guys too. Living with them is going to be hell as it is, and I’m not going to give them more ammo to throw at me when the mood strikes.

  Christian picks up his sax. “Do you mind?”

  “No.” I’m tired and could probably sleep, but if I’m going to do that I’ll go to Alex’s room. But, I don’t exactly want to be alone either.

  He puts the sax to his lips, fingers on the keys and looks at the music before he starts playing. It’s jazzy, slow and seductive, but he doesn’t play for long before he’s setting it aside.

  “Did you write that?”

  “Yeah. Or, I am writing it. That’s all I got so far.”

  “Remember when we were studying big band and swing era music at school.”

  He grins and starts polishing the brass of his instrument. “Yeah. Some of the best music.”

  “At least for horns.”

  He’s grinning. “You and Kate on dueling pianos. The rest of the guys on brass. Those were some good times.”

  “Do you still play the trumpet?”

  He shrugs. “Not as much as I used to. But, I have learned the piano since.”

  I look around. “You don’t have one.”

  “Keyboard, upstairs.”

  “Alex says you’re in a band.” I really don’t know much about what the other guys do. Just basic stuff.

  “Yeah, we usually play four nights a week. Our agent is trying to get us booked for a tour, as soon as we’re done with the album.”

  “You’re cutting an album?” I did not know that.

  “It’s slow going.” He puts his sax back in the case. “I told the guys to wait until we had enough music for an album before we start recording, but they’re too anxious. We got the one song cut and sent it to studios, radio stations, whoever. Which is great for exposure, but we need more than one song to go anywhere.”

  “No one-hit wonder?”

  Christian rolls his eyes and plops down on the couch. “Which is what I’m afraid will happen.”

  “How many songs so far?”

  “Five.”

  “All original, or are you borrowing from others?”

  “Original. That’s the one thing I’ve insisted on. I don’t want to make it big on someone else’s music.” He grabs the water bottle and takes a drink, then wipes droplets from his chin. “Actually, I don’t want to make it big at all. I just want to play the clubs and write music. Not go on tour.”

  This kind of surprises me. Isn’t that how you know you’ve made it? When you are touring, opening for another band before you’re so big people are opening for you?

  “Kels, I’ve never had a permane
nt home,” he says. “I moved from one foster family to another. The longest stint anywhere was Baxter, but that wasn’t permanent. I’ve been with these guys for five years, but this is rented, and we’ve lived other places. I just want a place of my own, that I own, where I can just live and not wonder where I will be next year.”

  “I get that.” Landing a permanent job means a permanent home, at least somewhat permanent, and moving because I choose to and not circumstances forcing me to.

  “The guys in the band just want to move out of their parents’ homes, go out in the world, be free, do what they want. Their only focus is on making music with no thought of what the future could hold.”

  “They all live at home?”

  “Yeah. Locals and none of them can afford to be out. We don’t make that much and save to rent studio space. If I didn’t have these guys and work construction with Sean and Ryan during the week, I couldn’t afford to be out there either.” He picks up his sax again. “Want to play some music?”

  “Sure, but how?”

  He grins and stands. “Be right back.”

  The sound of a sax and piano bleeds through the door as we go up the stairs to the brownstone. If Christian has his band over, I’m going to kick his ass. Kelsey wanted to rest.

  I open the front door and stomp into the living room and stop. Christian is playing his sax, and it’s Kelsey on the keyboard. She’s grinning as they come to the end of the song and play the final notes. This is the Kelsey from high school. Face flushed and smiling as she plays. Nearly glowing. She’s a musician, just like Christian. The two of them have always had that, and it’s good to see her relaxed and happy. Probably the best thing she could have done today.

  “How’d giving blood go?” she asks.

  “Great!” I force enthusiasm.

  “Great in that he passed out,” Ryan laughs. “If only I would have brought my camera.” Then he holds up his phone. “But, I do have this baby and with just a few clicks, I can have it on Instagram, Twitter, anywhere I want.”

  My face heats and I’m not sure if it’s from embarrassment at Kelsey knowing I’m a wimp or pissed that Ryan would even think about putting my humiliation out there.