by Faye Byrd
We already knew that this couple was Cam’s biological parents, as the other family’s tests were normal, but seeing Mr. Ashby in person makes it one hundred percent real. There’s no denying the fact that Cameron is his son, and it’s something I’ve already accepted. Cam needs this. He needs his biological family in hopes of giving him something I can’t.
My eyes jump back to Mr. Ashby, and if he notices me staring, he doesn’t look my way. I study him closer. His hair is even darker than Cam’s, raven black, and where my son has curls, this man has texture. It’s shorter on the sides and along the back, but the top is longer and sits in a riotous mess on his head. His skin is tanned, as if he’s just flown in from the Caribbean, and his eyes are the same deep, forest green as Cameron’s.
I can’t help but let my mind wonder to whether he has another child; one that is my Cam’s sibling. And if not, does he have a family member that might be a match? Is he a match? But then a darker thought intrudes. Is he even going to care? I roll my eyes at myself. Of course, he’ll care. Cameron is a part of him; his flesh and blood.
The silence ticks by with no interruption, but the only way to find out the answers I seek is to have this conversation. I slowly rise to my knees and begin to stand. Mr. Ashby jumps up and offers me his hand, though he still avoids looking directly at me.
When I’ve gained complete control over my body and the room is no longer spinning, I let go of his hand and take the first steps toward my seat in front of Dr. Scott’s desk. Mr. Ashby follows, sitting in the chair to my right, as Katherine settles across from us.
“It’s so good to have you back, Mr. Ashby.” She lifts her brow at him. “Did you reconsider your thinking?”
His fingers scrub through the top of his hair, and they ball into a fist. It looks painful. “What, that you’re a lying bitch?” I recoil at his words. Katherine didn’t tell me that part. “I did reconsider the lying part, but the jury’s still out on whether you’re a bitch or not.”
She takes a deep breath and accepts his words with a nod. “I understand your position and will let that slide … for now, but you need to get your priorities in order. We have much more serious things to discuss.”
He releases his death grip on his hair and plants his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands for several moments. When he looks back at Katherine, most of the hostility has faded from his eyes. “We do. I have questions that need answering.”
“I know you do, Mr. Ashby, but there’s more you need to hear from me first. Since Miss Wilder is here, I think it’s only appropriate that we discuss the entire matter, including what your biological son needs from you,” Katherine states, her tone completely professional, but it also holds a warning.
He tilts his head to the side. “Needs?”
“A long story and one you need to hear from the beginning.” She turns to me. “Easton, this is Mr. Ashby. Mr. Ashby, this is Easton Wilder.”
I have no choice now but to turn to him and extend my hand. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Mr. Ashby, since you already know my first name.”
He takes it, and a strange vibration runs from our clasped fingers all the way up my arm to settle in my chest. “My name is Trystan, Trystan Ashby.” He withdraws his hand, clenching and unclenching his fist several times.
“I would say it’s nice to meet you, Trystan, but I don’t think I can do it with a straight face,” I say, because there’s nothing nice about the upcoming conversation.
He nods in agreement, then chuckles, a deep, dark chuckle. “I concur, Easton. Nothing nice about it at all.”
The sound of my name from his lips causes the vibration to move from my chest and race up my spine, creeping around my skull. I shiver involuntarily.
“Easy,” Kathy says gaining my attention. “Could you tell Mr. Ashby–”
“It’s Trystan,” he interrupts, while giving me a curious look. “You can both call me Trystan.”
Katherine allows a small smile to lift the corners of her lips. “Thank you, Trystan, and you can call me Katherine. I take my job and this situation very seriously. I would never wish this on anyone, much less two loving parents. But it’s happening, and there’s nothing I can do to take it back. However, I can offer you any assistance you need that concerns this health care system. I also think it would be nice if we could all act civilized from this point forward.”
Trystan rolls his eyes and begrudgingly gives her a nod. He then turns to me. “Is there something you’re going to tell me to make this all seem real? To make me think it’s not just a crazy dream where someone is trying to take my little boy?” The anger seeps into his voice, and I can understand it. I’ve lived it every day since the information was given to me. He’s sitting right in front of me this very minute, the one who might try to do that very thing.
I consider my words carefully, as I don’t want to offend him. The last thing either of us needs is to be unable to work together. “Trystan, you have no idea what I’ve been through, even before learning this news. I assure you, it’s real. More real than you could ever imagine, and frankly, I have way more to lose at this point.”
His face twists, the rage taking over. “How in the fuck could you possibly have more to lose? At least you’ve had time to let this settle in your mind. I just found out today that my son … my son”–he thumbs his chest–“isn’t really mine. So excuse me if I’m a little mistrusting here, but don’t tell me that you have more to lose.”
Katherine clears her throat. “Obviously, Trystan is a bit volatile, which is going to make this even harder to get through, but it has to be done.” She looks to me. “Will you tell him or would you like me to explain?”
I take a deep breath and release it before giving her a nod. “I’ll tell him.” I turn in my chair so I’m facing him. I want there to be no mistaking the sincerity of my words. “Cameron, my son”–I shake my head, that’s not entirely right–“your son … our son”–I nod, that’s the best solution I can muster–“is sick and in need of a bone marrow transplant. There’s obviously more to the story, but–”
“Wait, hold the fuck up!” He jumps up and starts pacing. “The kid is sick? Is that what this is? You realize you have a sick kid and you want to trade him out, get yourself one that isn’t? Well, I have news for you, sweetheart, that isn’t happening. You’ll take Blake over my dead body!”
I’m so appalled at his outburst that it takes me a minute to respond, but when the full force of his words hit me, I explode. I jump from my seat and stalk to where he’s pacing, stopping him in his tracks with my fury. My hand raises and a resounding smack echoes through the room. His face jerks to the side and a handprint begins to form, but I can’t even be bothered to care.
“How dare you? How fucking dare you, you motherfucker! My baby”–I beat my chest with my fist–“is lying in the hospital waiting for a donor match, and all you’re worried about is whether I want to trade sons with you. Fuck you! All I need you to do is get tested, get your family tested and then get the fuck out of our lives!” My chest is heaving and tears are streaming down my face–not from pain, but from rage.
His eyes are wide as he stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. And maybe I have, but he will help Cam if it’s in his power, I’ll make sure of that. I haven’t come this far to fail my son now. He needs me, and if this man holds the cure, he damn well will provide it.
After opening and closing his mouth several times, he finally works up the courage to speak. “Maybe you need to tell me the whole story.” He promptly returns to his seat and sags into it, his eyes pinned to the floor. “I’m sorry. I … I don’t know what else to say.”
What’s so bad, is that I get it, I understand. His reaction could’ve very well have been my own if the shoe was on the other foot. I slowly settle back in my chair and allow my muscles to relax from their tight coil. “I understand, Trystan,” I say, touching his arm lightly to gain his attention. “While your words may have been crazy, I can complet
ely understand the sentiment behind them.”
He stares into my eyes, searching for something, and he must find it. “Thank you, Easton. I don’t know if I could be as gracious as you are right now if the situation were reversed.”
“I don’t think this situation has a precedent. We’ll both make mistakes as we go. The important thing will be overcoming them and moving on. We both have children of our flesh and blood we’ve never met. If that can’t bond us, I don’t know what will. These two boys deserve the chance to be loved by us both. I hope that’s something you can consider.” I raise a brow, expecting a favorable reply.
He looks away and allows his eye to travel around the room. I give him the time he needs to consider my request. It’s an impossible situation, and a rash decision will only bring heartache for us all. I’m willing to exhibit patience when it comes to working something out between us, but not when it comes to Cam’s life.
When his eyes find mine again, they’re a little glassy, but that’s okay. I’ve cried more tears since this situation began than any other time in my life. With a small nod from him, I gain a new future—one that includes both of my sons—and he gains the same.
“Can”–he clears his throat–“can you tell me everything?”
So I do.
I tell him the whole story about Cameron’s illness and how we came to learn this information. I even tell him of Cam’s conception and my plan to continue forward with my second child. He doesn’t interrupt and sits riveted to every word, the compassion for everything Cam’s been through shining on his face. When I make it to his current prognosis and the possibility that he might be going home in the next few days, I even see a small sigh of relief. By the time I’m done, those green eyes are sincere and full of emotion.
“I’m sorry. I don’t have any other children,” he says regretfully. “But I do have a brother with children. Could one of them be a match?”
“We’ll need to test everyone in your family. A full sibling has the best chance, but it is possible for any member to be a match,” Katherine explains, and a whole new world of possibilities blooms inside me.
“I’ll make the call as soon as I get back to my hotel.”
Relief overwhelms me, and yet there’s one elusive thing I’m dying to hear about. “Blake,” I say, and my voice cracks. “Can you tell me about him?”
A soft smile overtakes his face at the mention of our other son. And that’s who he is. I carried him in my stomach, he grew in my body, he’s made from me. He is definitely my son.
“His eyes,” Trystan says, interrupting my thoughts. “He has your eyes.” Then he snorts. “Probably a lot of other things I always assumed came from his mother.”
“And she just left him?” I ask quietly, broken-hearted that a woman could be so cruel.
A low grumble comes from Trystan. “Yes,” he barks, but I register the regret immediately. “Please, I can’t talk about her. Not right now.”
“I’m sorry,” Katherine says, leaning forward, “but I need you to understand that I left her a message. If she has any rights—”
“She doesn’t,” Trystan snaps, cutting his eyes toward her. “I’ll have my lawyer forward you the paperwork.”
Katherine nods. “That will be sufficient to absolve me of my responsibility.”
Trystan brushes his hand across the back of his neck and slowly brings his eyes back to mine. “Thank you, Easton.”
My brows furrow. “You don’t have anything to thank me for.”
“Yeah, I do,” he says firmly, his eyes boring into mine. “You’ve been a mother to my son for three years, and I can tell from personal experience, that you’ve fought for him and will continue to fight for him.” His fingers brush against his still-pink cheek. “You’ve been nicer to me than I deserve, and I’ll try to do better.” He turns his attention to Katherine, and again, his expression hardens. “Where does the criminal investigation stand right now?”
“The investigator has singled out all the nurses from that day and started interviews to see if anyone saw anything suspicious,” she says, leaning forward to prop her elbows on her desk. “You do know there’s a chance it was simply an accident.”
He jumps up. “I don’t give a fuck if it was an accident or not. Whoever did this fucked up our lives and there needs to be repercussions for it!”
“I understand your anger, Trystan, and we’re doing everything we can to get to the bottom of it. I assure you,” Katherine says evenly.
He snorts. “Well, I’m sorry, Katherine, but your assurances mean jack shit to me.” He turns and storms to the door before pausing and allowing his eyes to fall on me. “I’m sorry, Easton. The weight of this conversation is stifling me. We’ll speak again soon.”
“Well, that went swimmingly,” Katherine jokes once the door’s shut firmly behind him.
I sigh. “Just give him time to come around. He is right, you know? I’ve had time to accept it, and it’s just been thrown at him today.”
“I understand that,” she says, nodding. “Which is why I didn’t have him thrown out for calling me names. But I expect better from a parent.”
“Everyone has a different way of dealing with harsh circumstances, and his is obviously with threats and anger. But he knows what’s at stake now,” I say, feeling the truth of my words. “No true parent could walk away from a situation like this, and he’s a true parent. It’s obvious.”
Katherine doesn’t answer right away, and that’s okay. Over this past week, she’s been a strong method of support by being persistent in her search for the other family, along with making sure my son’s every need is taken care of. In another life, we may have even become friends. But as it is now, we’ll have to settle for scorned parent and the woman who holds the responsibility, even though she had nothing to do with it.
“For your sake, I hope he’s everything you think he is,” she finally comments.
I give her a soft smile. “He’s already proven his parenting prowess simply by raising his … no, our son alone. He’ll come around and do what’s right, not only because Cameron’s sick, but also because he’s his. You’ll see.”
“Maybe I’m a little more skeptical than you because I don’t see raising a kid alone as anything special. It’s what parents are supposed to do.” She picks up a pen, flicking it between her fingers. “But I did see compassion. He’s invested.”
“That’s what matters,” I say with a shrug. “We both have a lot to lose if we mess this up, and I’m not willing to allow that to happen.”
“I’ll do everything I can to help,” she says, and I think I believe her.
A little while later, as I near Cam’s door, I hear a male voice. Not just any male voice, though. Trystan’s. My first instinct is to charge in there and ask him what does he think he’s doing, but my curiosity outweighs my anger. I pause and listen.
“Oh, yeah? Who’s been watching Blue for you?” Trystan’s voice carries through the open doorway.
“He’s at Nana and Papa’s. They take good care of him for me,” Cam replies, and I can just picture his serious face as he explains all about his dog.
“Oh, I bet they do. Your mom says you might be going home soon. Are you excited?”
“Yep, I feels all better,” Cam tells him with pride.
He chuckles.
“Just what do you think you’re doing, missy?” Amelia says, her mouth almost touching my ear.
I jump, throwing my hand on my chest as I attempt to slow my breathing. I turn to her smirking face, grabbing her arm and dragging her further down the hall. “Me? What the hell did you think you were doing leaving him alone with Cam?”
She has the nerve to laugh at me. “Easy, it was obvious who he was. Cam was asleep, and I just went to get a cup of coffee. No reason to be pissed.”
“What if he was trying to kidnap him, what then?” I whisper-yell.
She laughs harder. “There’s no way he’d even make it off this floor, much less out of the hosp
ital. Besides, with the way that man looks, I’d ask him to kidnap me.”
Obviously, the angry route is getting me nowhere, and it might be because I’m not doing a very good job of convincing her. I’m not even convincing myself. I roll my eyes. “My son does have a nice-looking father, huh?”
“Honey, if he doesn’t already have a sibling for Cam, I think I’d beg him to make one if I were you,” she jokes, giggling louder than she should.
Only it’s not so funny. Her words spin and turn in my mind until I’ve twisted them into something reasonable. Continuing the process of a second baby has never been far from my thoughts. Finding out that Cameron wasn’t conceived by that sperm was a devastating blow, but with a simple joke, it’s all come crashing back. Trystan is that man. The one who can allow me to fulfill, not only the plan of the same father for my children, but the one that provides a possible match for my ailing son.
I grab Amelia’s upper arms, forcing her to look directly at me. “Go in there and tell Trystan it’s time for him to go.”
“Easy,” she whines. “He’s not doing anything wrong.”
I stop her there. “Just do it, Amelia. I need to talk to him.”
She stops protesting and studies my face carefully. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Just trust me, please,” I beg, my mind moving at lightning speed to rationalize every thought that passes through it.
“Okay.” With a huff, she disappears into Cam’s room.
I lean against the wall and wait for Trystan to exit. My nerves are jumping all over the place, but this is an opportunity I can’t allow to pass.
For Cameron.
When he comes out and notices me, he stops short and looks sheepish. “I’m sorry, Easton. I just ended up here, I didn’t plan on it happening. Amelia let me hang with him for a little bit. He looks just like me.” The smile on his face is radiant.
“Why do you think I fainted?”
His eyebrows rise into his hairline. “That’s why you fainted?”
