Insight

by Deborah Raney

  “But can’t you…can’t you wait a while and see if he…responds?”

  “As I said, we’ll do extensive testing to be certain… I understand you need time to absorb this news, Mrs. Cline. There are definitive tests to confirm brain death, and I can assure you every precaution has been taken. There is no room for error.” He paused and his voice softened. “I assume you were aware your husband had signed an organ donor card, indicating he wished to donate his organs in the event of his death?”

  She nodded, knowing it was true. But this man was saying they wanted to—to cut Derek open. Take his heart? His liver, his kidneys, his lungs, his eyes…” It was too awful to absorb. She felt as if her entire body had been injected with Novocain. Numb, powerless to move one muscle, yet her thoughts were running a marathon.

  “I know this is difficult. I’m sure you need a few minutes to absorb what has happened. Are there any questions I can answer about what happened?”

  She had a million questions, but couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence.

  “Can I call someone for you?”

  Olivia stared at him blankly. Who would she call? Certainly Derek’s father would have to be notified. But he wouldn’t come, wouldn’t help her. She could call Jayne, but she couldn’t expect her friends to come all the way from Chicago. Her distant relatives had never been a part of her life. Derek was the only one she could think to call at a time like this. She let out a bark of bitter laughter and shook her head. “No. There’s no one,” she said.

  The doctor stood silently across the room for what seemed like an eternity. Finally he cleared his throat and spoke quietly, “Mrs. Cline, we want to make certain that your husband’s wishes can be carried out. I’m sure you are aware that time is critical, and of course, we want to make certain the organs are viable—”

  “There’s nothing else that can be done? Nothing?” She somehow managed to squeak out the words.

  “We’ll monitor things very closely for the next forty-eight hours, but…” The doctor shook his head, his expression somber. “I’m sorry.”

  “Can I see him?”

  “Certainly. We can arrange that right away. You may speak with the organ procurement representative any time after that. He will be able to answer any questions you might have, and help you make an informed decision.”

  Her hands started to tremble more violently. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be true. Not Derek. Not when they’d just begun to heal from the agony of the past year. God wouldn’t be that cruel. Would He?

  “Mrs. Cline?” The doctor’s solemn voice shook her from her thoughts. “Are you ready to go down to ICU now?”

  She tried to stand but her legs wouldn’t hold her. Grabbing the arm of the chair, she steadied herself and finally gained her balance.

  “This way,” the doctor said, as if every day he led people to the death of their loved ones, the death of their marriages, the end of their hope.

  Chapter 5

  The door opened to a chill blast of air laced with a pungent antiseptic odor that turned Olivia’s stomach.

  Her gaze was drawn like a magnet to the hospital bed, then forced away as if the poles of the magnet now repelled it. Finally she forced her eyes to focus on the form that was Derek. At least they said it was Derek. She barely recognized the swollen, mask-like face beneath the tubes and other apparatus.

  Her breath caught and something inside her gave way. If what Dr. Patton said was true—if Derek really was brain-dead—it wasn’t him lying in this bed. It was merely a shell. The man she was just learning to love was already walking the streets of heaven.

  A sob caught in her throat. This simply could not be happening. She’d already faced losing her husband to another woman. Why this? Why now? There had been times during those dark days when she’d honestly wished him dead.

  Had she wished this on Derek? No. That was a silly, superstitious notion. She hadn’t meant it. Not really. But people always said “be careful what you pray for.” Was God trying to teach her a lesson by giving her what she’d wished for?

  A tumult of guilt crashed through her. And now she was supposed to make a decision about taking Derek off life support? She couldn’t do it. She needed time. Time to make things right with him. To sort out her life…without him.

  A nurse came from around the bed and eyed her, a question on her kindly face. “Are you Mrs. Cline?”

  Olivia nodded.

  “I’m so sorry. I know this is an incredibly difficult time for you. I’ll leave you alone with your husband for a few minutes if you like.”

  Olivia couldn’t think how to respond. Couldn’t make a syllable form on her lips. She half-staggered to the side of the bed. Then she fought the urge to run. Seeing Derek gray and puffy, with wires and tubes attached everywhere, terrified her.

  She reached out and touched his arm. It was warm to the touch. He felt alive. The thought contradicted what the doctor had told her. Contradicted what she’d told herself all the way down the corridor. Did she have the right to make this decision for him? How could she be sure he wouldn’t recover, might not live after all?

  They were Christians. There was always hope. Wasn’t there? Dear God, I need you. Please, help me, Heavenly Father. I can’t do this! I can’t do this alone.

  The slow, steady beep of some monitoring device somewhere in the room marked time, along with the rhythmic suction and exhalation of the ventilator. Derek had always said he wanted to be an organ donor. Their drivers’ licenses had come up for renewal at the same time a couple of years ago and they’d both sat in the DMV office and signed the backs of their cards together. They’d even discussed it in the car on the way home afterwards.

  It had turned into a conversation that proved oddly prophetic. “What would you do if something happened to me, Derek?” she’d asked. “Would you find someone else?”

  “Sure.” He’d answered, a little too quickly for her taste.

  “Wow, you sound like you already have her picked out,” she joked.

  “No. I’m just not the type to be alone.” He’d smiled and chucked her under the chin.

  But she had always wondered. Olivia didn’t think he’d started the affair yet at that point, but she would always suspect that there was someone he was attracted to by then.

  Derek had met Rachel Wyck at work. She was a sales rep who was in and out of the office. Apparently in long enough to flirt with Derek and start an affair. Olivia had never met the woman, but she’d seen her a couple of times when she dropped by Derek’s office.

  With her long auburn hair, petite build, and bubbly personality, Rachel couldn’t have been more different from Olivia. Maybe that was the attraction. Derek was outgoing and gregarious. They’d often fought about Olivia’s penchant for staying home and “nesting” when he was itching to go out on the town. But didn’t opposites attract? That’s what he’d told her when they met. Apparently that only worked to a point. Eventually, he grew tired of the quiet girl, and the bubbly one won out.

  Olivia forced the thought from her mind. That wasn’t fair. She may not have been the one who had an affair, but she’d checked out of their marriage long before Derek had. She bit her lip, remembering.

  She’d formed a circle of friends at work, and they started going out on the town together almost every weekend. She excused her neglect of Derek by claiming that it was important to her job security. Her boss, Elizabeth DiMartino wasn’t always part of the group, but often enough that Olivia could use her as an excuse. Until Derek pointed it out, she hadn’t stopped to consider that, except for Jayne, her friends were all single. Elizabeth was long widowed, Lucy and RaeAnn were divorced, and the others were fresh out of college. She hadn’t chosen her friends for their marital status—or lack thereof—but it did mean that she was the only one gallivanting—Derek’s word—around town on Saturday night while her husband sat at home alone.

  Well, Derek didn’t sit home for long. And when she finally gave in to his request to s
pend more time at home, it was almost too late.

  They had so many regrets. Both of them. So many things to try to forget. So many proverbial elephants in every room of their lives.

  But then there had been that last weekend together in Chicago, when Derek had shown up at the town house with a dozen hothouse roses and a beautiful silver heart locket. Gifts he’d presented to her for no reason at all. “Just because you’re my favorite person in the world,” he’d said. Then he’d dipped his head in humility that was out of character for Derek Cline. “And because I’m so glad you gave us another chance.”

  They made love that night, and for the first time in a long time Olivia hadn’t fought against visions of Derek’s betrayal, hadn’t thought once of the ugliness of his affair. Instead, their lovemaking left her feeling at one with her husband. Excited that they were off to a new beginning together. Brand new.

  The ventilator’s mechanical hiss invaded her thoughts. Her fingers traced the heart-shaped locket at her throat. She pressed the tepid metal against her skin, then reached for the bed rail, steadying herself. Her gaze moved from her husband’s pale, still form in the bed to the machines that pumped breath into him.

  Now, somehow, she knew with certainty that it was not the breath of life the machine imparted. No. Derek was gone.

  She needed to call his father. Let their friends know what had happened. Her brain started a frantic tabulation of everything she needed to do.

  Finally the river of thoughts dammed up and her pulse slowed. There would be a lifetime to do all the tasks death required. Only one thing was necessary right now.

  It was time to tell her husband good-bye.

  “Mrs. Cline?”

  Olivia started at the hand on her shoulder. “Yes?” The word came out like a scratchy recording and she cleared her throat, squinting against the bright lights in the waiting room. She didn’t know if she’d been asleep for ten minutes or ten hours. How could she have slept at all at a time like this?

  The doctor who stood in front of her wore a mixture of kindness and sadness on his face. It made her ache. “I wanted to let you know that…it’s over. They’ve disconnected the ventilator. Your husband is gone.”

  She thought she’d already accepted the inevitable in the long minutes she’d sat in this chilled room, waiting for them to come and tell her what she already knew. She felt like a coward waiting out here. She should have stayed with him. Derek would have done at least that for her. The thought caused her to choke on a sob.

  “I’m so sorry,” the doctor said. He was the same doctor who’d talked to her about Derek’s desire to be an organ donor. Martin Randall, M.D., his nametag said. An organ procurement officer, he’d called himself before. Such a serious title.

  It all seemed surreal. She hardly knew how to make her thoughts line up with what was happening. “What…do I do now?” Her voice came out in a feeble squeak.

  “You’re free to go home for now. We will release the body to the funeral home as soon as they’ve taken the donor organs. I assume you designated which mortuary you wish to use?” He started leafing through the sheaf of papers she’d filled out earlier.

  Olivia scrubbed her face with the palms of her hands. “We just moved to town. I didn’t know the name of any place. I just left it blank…”

  “There are only two funeral homes in Hanover Falls. I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend either one.”

  “Could you…could you just choose one for me?”

  “Certainly.” He slid a ballpoint pen from the pocket of his jacket and scribbled something on one of the papers. When he was finished, he looked down at her. “Are you all right? Do you have someone to drive you home?”

  She shook her head. She had no one. Her husband was dead. She was alone in a town she’d never visited before today. She’d called Derek’s father earlier. He and his wife were flying in from Palm Beach tomorrow. For the funeral.

  “I can have someone call a cab for you,” Dr. Randall said. “I think the service is still operating this late on Sunday night.”

  “No.” She shook her head and couldn’t seem to stop. She wasn’t even sure how to get back to the house. “I have my car here. Out by the emergency room. I’ll be okay.” It was a lie. How could she ever be okay again? She started down the hallway.

  “Mrs. Cline? Mrs. Cline?” She turned at the sound of her name.

  The doctor pointed with a corner of his clipboard. “The emergency room exit is that way.”

  She nodded and turned, wondering if she could possibly make it to the end of the corridor that stretched before her.

  Somehow she managed to get in her car and retrace the path she’d taken hours ago, back to Glenwillow Road. There, she let herself into the house and locked the door behind her. She needed to make some phone calls.

  Her husband was dead. There was a funeral to plan.

  Chapter 6

  Reed Vincent jerked to attention and sat up straight on the couch. The television blared in the background. He must have fallen asleep. But what had awakened him?

  The answer came in the loud ringing of the telephone in the next room. He slid off the couch and knelt, squinting at the giant numerals that glowed from the DVD player. It was no use. They were a complete blur.

  Groping for his eyeglasses with one hand and the remote with the other, he landed on the glasses first and shoved them on his face. He leaned toward the clock until his nose almost touched the front panel of the DVD player. It was six-fifteen in the morning. Wednesday.

  This was getting to be a bad habit. He’d spent more nights on the couch than in his bed recently. The phone blared for his attention. He stumbled to the dining room, following the faint glimmers of light from the lamps he left on to guide him. At the desk, he fumbled with the receiver, putting the mouthpiece to his ear before he realized his mistake and flipped it aright. “Hello? Hello?” he said into the phone, realizing too late how loud he’d made his voice.

  “Mr. Vincent?”

  “Yes?”

  “This is Dr. Shahzad’s office.”

  He held his breath. They wouldn’t call at this time of day unless—”

  “Sorry to call so early,” the voice said, “but Dr. Shahzad wanted to let you know that he’s had a surgery cancellation. We have donor corneas available. If you can get into the hospital by seven o’clock, he could do the procedure this morning.”

  His heart raced. His thoughts were wrenched back to the time he’d received a similar phone call. This was the call he’d been waiting for. The one that filled him with equal parts hope and fear. He’d already had one failed transplant.

  Was it fair to try once more and risk being rejected again? Someone else could benefit from the donor corneas. Someone with a better chance than he had for a successful outcome. His ophthalmologist had continued to encourage him, insisting that it wasn’t entirely unusual for a recipient to have an episode of rejection before a successful transplant.

  Corneas didn’t have to be exact blood type or tissue matches, and there were any number of donors he could be paired with. The wait hadn’t been long.

  He leaned against the wall and raked a hand through his hair. “I…I’ll have to call my ride. And where do I go?”

  “You have some time. The surgery isn’t scheduled until nine o’clock, but we wanted to be sure you didn’t eat anything. You can have sips of water, but you need to have an empty stomach when you arrive. You can come straight to admissions like you have before. We’d like to have you here as early as possible to fill out the paperwork and get you prepped. It will be outpatient again, assuming everything goes well. You know the routine.” There was a note of excitement in the nurse’s voice, as if she were delivering the best of news.

  But was it? Or would this be just one more devastating disappointment? He’d thought he was prepared for this. He’d known they had him on the list of recipients, but now that the moment had arrived, he wasn’t so sure.

  With his head spinning, he stood a
nd reached for the wall, following it to the hallway, then making his way into the bathroom without a misstep.

  “Okay, Lord,” he whispered. “I’m up for this if you are.”

  It was as though the words released his spirit from their prison cell, and the old hope soared within him. He was getting another chance. Another chance, perhaps, to be the artist God had created him to be. But more than that, a chance to see the ornery glint in little Ali’s eyes, to watch his niece grow from a toddler into a young woman. To take measure of young Mason’s height by something other than a hand on a broadening shoulder.

  He would not turn down such an opportunity. No matter how guilty it made him feel.

  The light that filtered through the plain cotton curtains was gray and heavy. But it was light. Morning. Olivia groaned and shook off the cruel spark of hope that fired in her just before she opened her eyes every dawn since Derek’s funeral.

  Ten days now. And each morning she woke with remnants of old hope clinging to her like cobwebs.

  But this wasn’t a dream. It had really happened. The accident, the terrible hours in the hospital. All of it. Derek was gone. And with him, the optimism they’d harbored. The new life they’d planned.

  Still, as she had every morning for the past ten days, she padded into the living room and curled up on the plump chintz love seat where, at the Bennetts’ advice, she and Derek had sat and prayed each morning in their old town house for the restoration of their marriage.

  Here, Olivia had seen the first glimpse of hope that she might be able to forgive her husband and go on with him. Here, they had learned to laugh together again, here they had made love as husband and wife after a betrayal so great that neither thought their marriage could survive.

  But it had. And their coming together had been sweet with promise as they clung to the fragile filament of faith that tied them to each other.