Wildflower

by Kimbrough, Michele

  ***

  Peter walked to the waiting room. When he arrived, he saw Iris sitting there, crying. He moved beside her and wrapped his arms around her. She sat curled next to him, her head on his chest, sobbing.

  “It’ll be okay, Iris. He’ll be just fine.”

  “I love him so much, Peter. I was so stupid for walking away from him.”

  “So was I.” He said thoughtfully, then continued, “I’m sorry, Iris. I really am. I wanted to build an empire and leave a legacy – a mark in this world that showed I existed, that I was here,” Peter explained.

  “Family is the only legacy worth leaving,” Iris responded, although her family had been the epitome of dysfunction.

  “The doc told me I’m a match, so day after tomorrow, I’m donating my kidney.”

  Iris sat up. “What? Are you sure you want to do that?”

  He nodded, “That’s my brother in there fighting for his life.”

  “You’re not going to blame him for the rest of his life are you? He doesn’t need that hanging over his head, too.”

  Peter smirked then kissed Iris on top of her head.

  “No. I won’t. I’m going to donate a kidney so that he can live a full life. Then, I’m going back to Houston to my wife and unborn child.”

  For the first time in six weeks, Iris didn’t get angry at the thought of Peter and Sara. There was something freeing about this moment. Had she finally forgiven him?

  “Good for you, Peter. I’m glad you’re happy.”

  “I didn’t say all of that,” he grinned.

  The nurse came out and told them they could go back in the room if they’d like.

  38

  Both Peter and Preston were prepped for surgery at the same time. They were wheeled down to the operating room together. Peter was in Operating Room A and Preston was in the adjoining Operating Room B. They first removed the kidney from Peter, and then rapidly transported it less than forty yards away to Preston’s operating room. They sewed Peter up and sent him to the recovery room. Preston’s surgery took much longer and was much riskier.

  The entire Mayweather clan was in the waiting room watching Good Morning America, trying to keep their minds preoccupied as they awaited news about Peter and Preston. Iris was sitting in the recovery room’s waiting area. The nurse gave Iris Peter’s belongings and told her what room he would be moved to. While she waited, his cell phone rang. It was Sara. Iris answered.

  “Sara? This is Iris.”

  “Iris? Why are you answering Peter’s phone?”

  “Peter’s in surgery.”

  “What? What happened?”

  “He didn’t tell you?” Iris got some satisfaction from her not knowing.

  “Tell me what?”

  “His brother, Preston, needed an emergency kidney transplant and Peter volunteered to donate his. They’re having the surgery as we speak.”

  Sara went quiet.

  “Iris?”

  “Yes?”

  “Something’s wrong. Can you tell Peter something’s wrong?”

  “Something like what?”

  “I don’t know. I’m about to go to the hospital. Will you let him know for me?”

  Iris heard sirens in the background.

  “Is that an ambulance?”

  “Yes. Please tell Peter to come home as soon as he can. I’m so scared.”

  “Oh, my God, Sara. You’re scaring me! What’s going on?”

  “They’re here. I have to go.”

  “Give the medic the phone, let me speak to him.”

  There was silence, then rumbling, then Iris heard a female voice.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, this is Iris Roberts. I’m related to your patient’s husband. Please call this number and let us know where she is and how she’s doing. If the hospital needs a contact, please give them this number. This is her husband’s number. His name is Peter Mayweather.”

  The woman agreed and then the call was ended.

  Iris paced the floor contemplating what she would say to Peter. He certainly wasn’t in any condition to get on a plane to go back home. But his baby was about to be born. He was about to be a father.

  “Oh my goodness, Peter might be a father by the time he comes out of recovery,” she thought aloud.

  She felt her phone vibrate. It was a text from Idris. He said that Preston’s surgery was going well and they were just about done. Iris had a sigh of relief. In the meantime, they were wheeling Peter to the room. He was still out of it, but was lucid enough to follow their directions. He moved from the gurney to the bed. The nurse came in, got him situated, and asked Iris a few questions. She looked at Peter, who had fallen back asleep.

  For a brief moment, Iris felt a sense of relief. Now she was worried about Sara. She hadn’t heard anything from the medics or the hospital. She should have heard something by now. She dialed Sara’s number from Peter’s phone. It rang until it went to voicemail. She waited a little while then tried again. Still no answer.

  She figured she’d have to be patient and prayed that everything was going well. Sara had betrayed her, but that didn’t stop Iris from loving her. She didn’t like what she had done, but she loved her nonetheless. Peter seemed to be waking up. The aid came in to take his vitals. That’s when the call came in. Finally. She answered Peter’s phone with a sense of satisfaction that everything would be okay. She was hoping she’d hear that the baby had been born healthy, and Sara was resting and well.

  “Peter Mayweather, please.”

  “He’s recovering from surgery, but I am a close personal friend of his wife’s. I’m the one who spoke to the medics.”

  “Oh, well, this is the medic calling. I’m not supposed to call, but I felt bad because no one had called you yet. They said it’s policy to notify the next of kin, which is her husband.”

  Iris didn’t like the sound of that.

  “What’s going on?” Iris asked.

  “I’m sorry to tell you this, but Sara Birch Mayweather died on the way to the hospital. We couldn’t revive her.”

  “What?”

  Instantaneously, tears streamed down her face. She hadn’t expected to hear that Sara was deceased. Maybe there were complications, or she miscarried, or something like that. Never had she imagined that she’d be telling Peter he was a widower.

  “I’m so sorry, ma’am. I could get in so much trouble for telling you, but I thought that you should know. You seemed so concerned.”

  Iris composed herself, “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  “Oh, ma’am?”

  “Yes?”

  “I heard that they were able to save the baby.”

  “What hospital?”

  The medic told her, and they ended the call.

  39

  Iris rushed down to the recovery waiting area while they were preparing to move Preston to the transplant recovery floor. She texted Pru and asked her and Richard to meet her in Preston’s room. By the time Pru and Richard arrived, Preston was being worked-up by the nurse.

  “Peter’s wife died.” Iris didn’t waste time with chitchat. She just dove right in.

  “What?” Pru and Richard said simultaneously.

  “Pru, what can we do, legally, to get the hospital to release the information to us? Peter is not in any condition right now, but I want to make sure we know everything before we tell him.”

  “Well, the hospital is supposed to notify him.”

  “They haven’t called. The medic felt bad about them not calling, so she told me.”

  “What happened?” Richard asked.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Sara called and said something was wrong and the ambulance arrived to pick her up while we were talking. She sounded so panicked and scared.”

  “We’ll either have to wait until the hospital calls or wait until Peter is able to call the hospital.”

  “Oh, they were able to save the baby. But that’s all I know.”

  “Oh my God. That baby is going to
be with the State if we don’t get down there,” Pru said.

  “I can charter a plane and we can fly down there,” Richard said.

  “How soon will they release Peter?” Pru asked.

  “I think they said a couple of days. But I’m not going. I’m staying here with Preston.”

  “My God. What a mess we have here,” Richard said. “Nobody is to tell Mom and Dad. Let’s just keep this among ourselves until we work this out.”

  They all agreed.

  40

  The next morning, Peter was lucid, but sick from the anesthesia. Iris was sitting beside the bed when he woke up, and he seemed pleased to see her sitting there. She told him good morning, and she was trying to find a way to tell him about Sara when she was saved by the vibration of his phone. She had charged it overnight and left it beside his bed, in case she wasn’t there and the hospital called.

  She handed Peter the phone. He answered. Iris heard him say, “This is he,” and then he was quiet for a long while. He asked about the baby. He nodded. Then he asked when. Iris wanted to know what was being said on the other end but she remained quiet, hoping he’d ask all the right questions.

  Peter was smart, but he was also recovering from surgery. Iris heard him ask “How?”, and then all was quiet for a while. He told the person on the other end of the phone that he had just had surgery and would send his brother and attorney on his behalf to handle matters until he was cleared to travel back to Houston. He was far more with-it than Iris gave him credit for.

  When he ended the call, he handed the phone to Iris.

  “Call Richie and tell him to bring Pru with him.”

  She did.

  “How’s Baby doing? Did the surgery go okay?” Peter asked.

  “He’s well. I’m going to go see him after his dialysis.”

  “Dialysis? Why is he on dialysis when I just gave him a kidney? Didn’t it work?”

  “The surgery went fine. They said sometimes it can take a couple of days for the kidney to start working.”

  He raised the head of the bed and turned his body, grimacing from the pain. Iris ran to his side to help him. She stuffed a pillow under his back so that he could lie on his side.

  “Thank you for being here.”

  “What did the hospital say?”

  “I only want to say this once. Let’s wait until Richie and Pru get here.”

  She nodded. Yep, Peter was back. Efficient. Smart. Decisive.

  Richard and Pru were downstairs with Preston. Only a few people could be in the room at a time, so Iris chose to sit with Peter while Richard and Pru spent some time with Preston. Within fifteen minutes, they were gathered in Peter’s room.

  “Family meeting,” Peter said.

  It had been a long time since they’d had a family meeting. The last time they had one was for their parents’ twenty-fifth anniversary. That was more than fifteen years ago.

  “Richie, charter a plane to fly you and Pru to Houston. Iris knows the charter company I use. Pru, I need you to act on my behalf as my attorney.”

  “Okay,” Pru agreed.

  “First, I want you to get my daughter.”

  Pru smiled. So did Iris.

  “You have a daughter, Pea,” Iris said happily, but it quickly turned to sadness. She was sad in part because she’d always wanted to have kids with Peter. But the bigger part of it was, he’d be raising that little girl all alone.

  “Then Pru, will you put together a team of med-mal attorneys? I want to sue the hospital.”

  Pru nodded.

  “Name your daughter, Pea. They’re going to have to do the birth certificate,” Iris said.

  “Call her Sara Anne Mayweather.”

  “Can you tell us what happened to Sara?” Pru asked.

  “Sara had a form of preeclampsia. She had gone undiagnosed. We didn’t know anything about it. She could have been saved had we known.”

  “How do you know?” Iris asked.

  “Because Sara was obsessive about her appointments and anytime she felt the slightest thing, she went to the doctor. If they didn’t know she had preeclampsia, then someone was negligent. And my wife died because of it.”

  “Pea, are you okay?” Iris asked. She was concerned because he seemed to be in business mode and not a man who’d just learned his wife had died suddenly.

  “No, I’m not okay. One of the women I love is now dead. The mother of my child is dead. I’m not okay. Richie, I need you to go now. I have only one more day before they call children’s services.”

  He looked at Iris, “Go be with your husband.”

  “I need to know that you’re okay. You seem…”

  “I’m pissed. And I need you to be with my brother. Please.”

  She recognized that tone. It was the tone he used just before he lost his temper. She gathered her things, kissed Peter on his cheek, and left his room.

  Just outside his door, she leaned against the wall and allowed herself to cry. Until almost two months ago, Sara had been her best friend. Now she was dead. She died scared and alone. Then she heard whimpering. It was Peter.

  Iris couldn’t remember when she had last heard him cry. Her heart sank when the whimpers became soulful sobs — gut wrenching — from that hollow place way down deep inside. The place that most of us never touch, never go to because there is too much pain there. She wanted to go back in the room and comfort him. But he had sent her off so that he could be alone, to cry for his beloved.

  41

  Iris left Peter and went downstairs to sit with Preston. He was awake when she walked into the room. His face lit up. He looked so sickly that it saddened her. She was used to his vibrant personality — full of life and energy. Now he was weak, frail. They’d shaved him for surgery. She’d never seen his face hairless. He had a sharp jawline and dimples.

  “Wildflower,” he said in a near whisper. He couldn’t speak louder. His throat was still sore from the breathing tube.

  “Preston.”

  “You’re not smiling. What’s wrong?”

  “Stop talking. You sound terrible. Come on, let’s get you showered,” Iris said.

  She helped Preston out of the bed and walked with him to the bathroom which was a walk-in shower. She led him to the shower seat and removed his gown, her hair brushing against his face as she did so. Holding the handheld shower head, she soaked him with the hot water until his body glistened under the fluorescent overhead lights. She was amazed at how defined he looked despite the weight loss he experienced. Her hand moved in smooth strokes as she sponged soap on his body, being careful around his healing surgical scars. He touched her hand and pulled her onto his lap.

  “No, Preston,” she said, as she stood. His hand caressed hers before it dropped to his lap.

  She soaked his dreadlocks with water, massaging shampoo on his hair and scalp. She saw his eyes close, leaning into her touch, suds gliding down his skin. He reached for her, grabbing hold of her waist, pulling her close to him. With his face pressed to her stomach, he relished the warmth of her body. His wet face left an imprint on her sheer blouse when she stepped back.

  While she rinsed the shampoo from his hair, they were silent. Preston seemed to enjoy her touch. When finished, she towel dried his hair and tied it back, moisturized his skin, then helped him into the recliner.

  She pulled up a chair and sat beside him. They remained silent for a long while. She was saddened by Sara’s death and concerned about Preston’s health. And even though there was no doubt in her mind that she loved Preston, she was still trying to reconcile herself to all that she’d learned about him. She held his hand in hers, cleaning his nails with her nail file she had pulled from her purse.

  “You gave us all a scare. Especially me. I wasn’t looking forward to being a widow.”

  “Last I heard, you were looking forward to being single.”

  “Don’t. Please — now isn’t the time to talk about that. Just get better.”

  “But I need to know what I�
�ll be going home to. An empty condo or my beautiful wife?”

  “Preston.”

  “Iris.”

  “I’ve got some bad news, and I don’t know if now would be a good time to tell you.”

  He slowly shifted his body forward. The pain was excruciating. “What is it?”

  “Peter’s wife died. She had some condition that nobody discovered. She died en route to the hospital.”

  “That’s terrible. How is he?”

  “He’s recovering from surgery.”

  “Peter needs us right now.”

  “No. You need to get well. Pru and Richard are flying to Houston to get his daughter. They were able to save the baby.”

  “Praise God.”

  Iris nodded. Again, they sat silently for a long stretch while Iris massaged lotion onto his feet.

  “Wildflower?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you for being here.”

  42

  Iris went between both of her husbands — one her ex, the other her present — brothers who had been so at odds with each other, they couldn’t be in the same room together without a fight. Now, Peter had saved Preston’s life again… losing another part of himself for the sake of his brother.

  When Peter was well enough, he walked to Preston’s room to see him. Iris was amazed at their interaction. They laughed and joked about sharing the same body part — and about having the same dreams after the transplant. Then they cried together as they talked about Sara and her unfortunate death.

  Richard and Pru returned from Houston with baby Sara. She was a beautiful little girl with dark black curly hair and fair skin. She was a quiet one, and Pru doted over her the entire time. Richard said he was afraid that she’d keep Peter’s daughter for herself.

  One look at baby Sara and Peter fell apart. Iris tried consoling him to no avail. She didn’t realize how much Peter had loved Sara. The way he had acted before, she thought that maybe he’d had second thoughts about his marriage. But now it appeared that he had really loved her.