by Susan Renee
I can still see the clock on the dashboard flash seven o’clock right before our car flipped in the air and landed in the median. It was like a piece of me knew right then, that if something bad was going to happen, it was because I had taken notice to the time on the clock. Sure enough within twenty-four hours I would be without both of the people I loved the most in my whole life. Fast forward a couple of years and I’m lying in bed wishing the day away. Nothing good can happen on July seventh. Not anymore.
My phone dings on the night stand alerting me to a text message. With a grunt I roll over and grab it swiping the screen to see who it’s from.
Bryant: Good morning beautiful.
Me: Red sky at morn, sailors take warn
Bryant: Uhh…that’s very…chipper of you this morning.
I close my eyes and breathe. Do I really want to go there right now?
He doesn’t know…
He doesn’t know…
He doesn’t know…
I should tell him.
Me: Today is Peyton’s birthday.
I hold my phone in my hand waiting for his immediate response but it doesn’t come. In fact, I lay in bed for about ten minutes before I see his reply pop up on my screen.
Bryant: Ok
Ok?
What the hell is that supposed to mean, “ok”?
I don’t get any other response from him and have no idea what I’m supposed to say to his last text. In frustration I just decide honesty is the best policy. At least he’ll know how I’m feeling today.
Me: Yeah. I kind of want to just stay in bed. Nothing good ever comes of this day except a good hangover to make me forget.
In less than two minutes I receive a reply.
Bryant: Put some clothes on. I’ll be there in ten minutes.
“What? Noooo…” I say out loud to nobody in my room. Ugh! What doesn’t he understand about wanting to just stay in bed and wait out the inevitable rainy day? I close my eyes and pout for at least five of the ten minutes Bryant said it would take him to get here. I have a half a mind to answer the door buck naked just to spite his instruction, but knowing Bryant that’s only going to cause bigger distractions. Rolling off the bed, I scoot to the bathroom, throw my hair up into a messy bun on the top of my head and pull on a pair of shorts and a tank top sans bra. Screw the make-up and the perfume, it’s just Bryant. He knocks on the door just as I’m making my way down the hall. I answer the door with an eyebrow raised and a hand on my hip.
He takes one good look at me from head to toe before smoothly wrapping an arm around me in the doorway. “Well good mornin’ to you too Seven.” He says, picking me up and kissing me on the mouth as he backs me away from the door. I squeal as I have no control over where he’s going.
“Bryant! Put me down!” I laugh. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I straighten out my shirt that twisted when Bryant picked me up and pull my hair a little tighter on my head.
“I have a question for you.”
I huff. “And you couldn’t have just texted me? What could be so damn important?”
“You’re important, Savannah. Today is important, and whether you feel like it’s a day to grieve or not, I need to know one thing.”
“What?”
“Have you ever done anything to celebrate Peyton’s life?”
“What do you mean? Like…a balloon send-off or something? You want me to sing songs in the streets? Ding-dong my baby’s dead? What?”
Ok maybe I’m being a bit melodramatic, but still. This is my day…because it’s Peyton’s day.
“No Sev, I mean have you ever done something good…good for your soul…to celebrate Peyton? Something that commemorates her and makes you feel a little more at peace by the end of the day?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Not really, no. I can’t do that stuff alone, Bryant. I’m just…not strong enough. I only just rolled out of bed like…five minutes ago. I couldn’t even do that on my own. You had to tell me you were on your way.”
He smiles sincerely. “You could’ve just not answered the door.”
“No way. You knew I was in here. You would’ve never left and most likely would’ve made a scene.”
Bryant winks at me, nodding his head in agreement. “Point made. You’re right. I would’ve. At any rate, I’m here now Savannah. And I have a great idea if you’ll just trust me. I would like to share this day with you to help celebrate Peyton and celebrate you…if you’ll let me.” Bryant holds his hand out for me to take.
I could easily say no. I could back up, chuck this all in the ‘fuck-it’ bucket and spend my day in bed, but that would mean disappointing Bryant. Why does he have to make this all so complicated yet comfortable for me?
“You just gave up your entire day for me?”
He nods. “It’s nice to be the boss once in a while. I’ve got people who know what they’re doing. I don’t always have to be at the bar so yeah, when you told me what today was I made some calls and here I am. I promise you this day is going to be a great day, but you have to trust me first.”
I take a deep breath, releasing it as I reach out for Bryant’s hand. He immediately pulls me into him holding me against his warm inviting body. “Thank you, Bryant,” I whisper.
He kisses the top of my head and holds me quietly for a moment before saying “You’re welcome. I’ll always be here for you, Sev, Always. Now before we go I need you to do one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Put on a bra.”
I raise my head from his chest, scowling at him. He laughs and rubs my shoulders. “Babe, believe me, your tits are the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen and if we were staying here all day I would be beggin’ you to take things off instead of put things on, but this is why you have to trust me. Where we’re going, you’ll thank me, I promise.”
I reach up on my tippy toes and kiss his lips swiftly. “Okay. Black lacey bra it is.” I wink at him as I turn to walk back to my room knowing all too well how much he loves my black lacey bra.
In the next ten minutes we’re hopping in his truck and heading for the freeway.
“Where are we headed?” I ask him.
He looks over at me smiling behind his sunglasses. “Trust me.”
Less than half an hour later we’re in Louisville, pulling into Toys-R-Us.
“Bryant…I’m not buying my daughter a birthday present that she’ll never open,” I say quietly staring out the window.
“Nope, you’re not. Listen. Every time I bring Ivy up here to the Children’s Hospital she gets a toy from the nurses. A nice toy, that’s donated by God knows who. Every kid there gets one, every time. It’s just a little way to bring a smile to the faces of those kids who sometimes spend their entire lives within those walls. Think about it Sev, don’t you think it would be great to donate a shit ton of toys in Peyton’s name to the hospital. We’ll make it her birthday present except she’ll be the one giving the gifts to all the children. I have a thousand dollars burning a damn hole in my pocket right now and I sure would like your help using it in that store.” He says pointing ahead of us. “What do you say?”
I can’t hold back my tears. Though they’re gliding down my face, I smile through them, leaning over to grab Bryant’s face. I kiss him, hard, tasting the combination of his breath and my tears. I love this man for all he does for me.
“Let’s make it two thousand. I’ll match every penny.”
Something good should come from that insurance money.
“That’s my girl. I love you, Seven.”
“I love you too.”
He squeezes my hand. “Now let’s go have some fun.”
For the next couple hours Bryant and I have a blast walking up and down the aisles of the toy store. We don’t plan out our toys, we don’t talk about gender specific anything. We’re like two new parents buying toys for the very first time, reliving moments of our childhood and laughing together the entire time.
In two hours we have three shopp
ing carts filled with just about every toy imaginable. We found baby dolls, paint sets, costumes, stuffed animals, video games, Lite Brites, Rubik’s Cubes, and an entire Wii U game system complete with a few games for one of the waiting room/lounges in the hospital. My heart grows a few sizes with every step through the store, knowing that we’re about to make many children very happy, and they deserve a dose of happy. We check out all of our toys, load them into Bryant’s truck – thank God it’s big enough – and head for Kosair Children’s Hospital. Bryant makes a few calls on our way, and by the time we arrive there is a group of people waiting for us at the loading dock to help unload. My heart is full, my body is exhausted, and to my surprise, my spirit is up. Today hasn’t been the downer of a day I thought it would be despite the fact that rain is still in the forecast for the evening.
“Thank you for today, Bryant,” I say to him as we hop in back in the truck to head home. “Seriously, you made what was going to be a miserable sad day at home alone, an uplifting positive celebration of Peyton’s life. I don’t even know what to say.”
Turning the ignition on, Bryant smiles sincerely as he quietly turns towards me. “You just said all you need to say, Sev. That’s what I wanted you to get out of today. You needed to be able to celebrate Peyton’s life instead of continuously grieving it alone. Her life meant something…to a lot of people, and it will continue to mean something for a very long time.”
“Yeah,” I smile. “Yeah, you’re right. I really needed this today.” I lean over the console of Bryant’s truck to lightly place a kiss on his cheek. “And thanks for making me put on a bra. What would I do without you?”
Laughing, he takes my head in his hands and studies my face. After a moment he kisses my lips with softness and sincerity. Something flips in the pit of my stomach as his pulls back. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought it was the most loving good-bye kiss I’ve ever experienced. “I hope you never have to find out. Now let’s go home. Looks like a storm’s coming. We can sit out on the porch and watch the rain come in.”
“Sounds great.”
Chapter 27
Savannah
Not wanting me to be alone tonight, Bryant and I decide to spend the night together at his place. A quiet night on the farm watching the storm roll in. He drops me off at my apartment so I can grab a few things and get my car since I need to be at work in the morning, and he needs to go pick up Ivy from his parent’s house.
“How about grilled sirloin tonight? A little bread, a little wine,” Bryant suggests for dinner.
“Mmm only if you add the balsamic glaze and the tomatoes and scallions.” I love when he cooks for me. He’s so good at it. There really isn’t anything he makes that I don’t like.
“Deal. I’ll pick up some fresh steaks on the way home.”
“Sounds fabulous. See you soon.” I wave and head into my apartment for just a few minutes. I grab an outfit to wear to work tomorrow and a few essential toiletries. I already have a toothbrush and shampoo at Bryant’s place so I never need to pack much. Since Ivy won’t be there, there isn’t really a need for me to pack pajamas. Smirking at the thought of what we may get into later, I swing my purse and my duffle bag over my shoulder, lock the door behind me and head out to Bryant’s house.
The smell of imminent rain floats through the air as I step out of the car. I smile curiously because I can hear music playing loudly from the kitchen. Shaking my head, I grab my bags from the back seat and head into the house where I come face to face with Adele in male form.
Oh my goodness, this man.
I’m laughing when I enter the kitchen but Bryant only looks at me, a grin on his face, as he continues to sing “Set Fire to the Rain” at the top of his lungs. I’m not sure I ever would’ve guessed that he liked Adele’s music but hell, I’ll take it. He can play her music anytime he wants.
“Hey,” he finally says when the song ends.
“Hey yourself,” I say. “I never took you for the Adele type.”
He gasps playfully putting his hand over his heart. “What? A man can’t be just as musically eclectic as his girlfriend, huh? I see how it is.”
Girlfriend…that sounds nice.
“Hahaha! No, I didn’t mean it like that,” I laugh. “Be right back, I’m going to throw these in your room.”
Bryant has already started what smells like a delicious dinner for the two of us. Steaks are already on the grill and he’s chopping vegetables for a salad.
“Can I help?” I offer.
“Sure. Why don’t you finish this, so I can get the scallions and tomatoes to the grill as well?” He hands me the knife he was using, kisses my forehead and heads over to the refrigerator. I stand at the counter chopping veggies when the first bolt of lightning strikes. I jump slightly having not expected the loud clap of thunder that follows.
“Whoa!” I say laughing at myself.
“Yeah…I’m glad the steak is almost done. At least I won’t get stuck in a downpour.”
I finish my job chopping the veggies for our salads, adding them to our individual bowls, grab the French bread from the bread box slicing us both a few pieces, and then set the table for dinner.
“Do you want wine? I think I have some Merlot on the shelf.” Bryant asks from the patio doorway. When I look up from setting the table he’s pointing to the wine rack across the room.
“Absolutely,” I answer. “That sounds great.”
I grab the Merlot and two wine glasses from the rack above the shelf and carry them over to the island counter. It takes a couple drawers but I finally find a corkscrew to open the bottle. Bryant walks in with our steaks on a platter, filling the kitchen with that freshly grilled smell. My mouth waters in excitement; I feel like I haven’t eaten in days. Filling one wine glass I move my hand over to the second one to be filled. I don’t know how it happens but the bottle slips from my hand, landing on the second wine glass, both of them crashing into broken pieces on the countertop in front of me.
“SHIT!” I scream. I jump back from the broken glass and look around hastily for a towel or a rag to help clean up the mess.
“Savannah! Are you okay?” Bryant runs in from the patio where he was finishing our meal.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. The bottle slipped out of my hand and I just made a huge fucking mess.” I grab whatever rags I can find near the sink and start to sop up the mess.
“I’ll get it,” Bryant says to me placing a hand on my shoulder. “Your shirt is dripping with red wine and as hot as it that you’re wearing a wet t-shirt, it’s not going to help you clean up very quickly.”
I chuckle because he’s right. My shirt is a damn wet mess. “Thanks. I’ll go grab a shirt from my bag and change. Be right back.” I step back from the mess and run down the hall, careful not to let the wine drip onto the floor on my way. Running quickly into Bryant’s bathroom, I carefully remove my shirt and throw it in the sink.
There’s no way that stain’s coming out.
Glad it’s not my favorite shirt.
I rummage through my duffle bag for a fresh t-shirt but realize the only thing I packed was my sundress for work tomorrow. Looking around for one of Bryant’s t-shirts without success, I just decide to grab one from his dresser.
He won’t mind.
Assuming the top drawer of his dresser is socks or underwear I pull open the second drawer. Nope, it’s all jeans and work-out gear. I move down to the third drawer and bingo! T-shirts! Not even caring which one I grab, I take the top shirt and slide it on over my head.
It’s soft and smells like him.
So good.
“Hey Bryant! I only packed a dress. I grabbed one of your shirts from your dresser, okay?” I yell down the hall.
I’m just about to shut the drawer when I see it. An envelope poking out from the side of the drawer. I wouldn’t have even given it a second thought if there wasn’t writing on the front that was familiar to me.
“Savannah, wait!” I hear Bryant say f
rom the kitchen, but it’s too late. I’ve already pulled the envelope out of his drawer, twisting it around in my fingers to read the writing clearly. It’s from the Donor Family Services of Give Life, the organization that puts donor families in touch with recipient families. I know because I’ve received several letters from them myself.
But he told me he didn’t know who Ivy’s donor was.
Curiously, I pull the letter out of the envelope and look at the front page. Just like mine, it’s a greeting from the coordinator. I fold the letter back up and put it in the envelope where a second envelope sits. When I pull it out and see the writing on the front my heart nearly jumps out of my throat.
It’s my handwriting.
What the fuck?
I want to put everything back in the drawer. I want to erase the last two minutes of time from my life because there’s no way in hell this can possibly be happening to me. There’s just no way. It’s possible that someone else makes their L’s that way but what are the odds? It’s too late though, I’m in this…I’ve got to see it through. I have to know. I pull the letter from the envelope and begin to read the words that I already know are written.
Dear recipient,
My name is Savannah. My daughter, Peyton, was the little girl who donated one of her organs to you. She would have celebrated her second birthday on July 7th…
