by Faye Byrd
“Is this going to make him sicker?” Easton asks, her eyes trailing over to our sleeping boy.
Dr. Andrews touches my wife’s arm. “Easton, as it is right now, I don’t see this making an impact at all, but if that changes, I promise to inform you immediately.”
I nod, blowing out a heavy breath. “We would expect no less.”
She nods solemnly and gives Easton’s arm a light squeeze before turning and exiting the room. Easton presses her body into mine as she releases a long sigh. I wrap my arms around her and hold her tightly to me. Dr. Andrews just took the wind right out of our sails without even meaning to.
The longer it takes Cam to start recovering, the more we torture our boys. Blake’s still angry that he can’t see his brother, and I’ve tried to come up with a way to make it better for him. But, at this point, he’s not had a return on his investment. Hopefully, soon, Cam will be well enough that I can share Blake’s surprise and he can reciprocate.
It’s that same precious boy who wakes and pulls us from our funk. Seeing him eat and walk to the bathroom, with Easton hovering close by, is enough to remind us that he is getting better. He’s faced the worst like a champion and is improving daily.
As the three of us play a game of Go Gish, Coop’s ringtone blares from my pocket. I stand and motion to Easton before walking into the hall. “What’s up, bro? Is everything okay with Blake?”
“Sure, man. He’s upstairs with Blaine and Carson. Kari’s and Mom are in the kitchen finishing up the turkey,” he replies.
“And what about my favorite niece?” I’m still bummed she was asleep when I dropped Blake off this morning.”
“She’s amazing and getting bigger every day.”
“I know. I hate that I don’t get to see her as often as I should.” I sigh, picturing her chubby little face.
“Hey, it’s cool,” he replies with a chuckle. “She totally understands.”
I prop against the wall. “Yeah, lucky for me she’s only a couple months old.”
“So what’s going on, man?” he asks, switching gears. “I mean, I read an article on Facebook this morning, but figured I better get it firsthand.”
I almost choke on my saliva. “What?”
“Facebook,” he says slowly, like I’m a dumbass.
“I know what the fuck it is, but what do you mean an article?”
“You know how people share stuff? One of the local news stories is all over the place. Had a lot of likes and shares, though,” he observes, as if it’s all cool.
“What the fuck ever. I don’t like people commenting on our life as if they know jack shit, but it is what it is, I guess.” I shrug my shoulders in the empty hallway.
“Aw, fuck ‘em, man,” he says, and I can picture him waving his hand. “None of those people mean shit. It wasn’t a bad article, just more about you two getting married than what’s going on with Cam.”
“Yeah, probably the same shit I saw on TV a few days ago. Oh well. Fuck it,” I say, deciding I can’t let it get to me. “So anyway, Cam has a minor infection, but the doctor says it shouldn’t be an issue.”
“Infection sounds like it could be serious, bro,” he comments.
I sigh, trying to push that shit out of my mind. “I’m going to go with what the doctor said. It’s all I’ve got right now, and she isn’t concerned so far.”
“Okay, keep me informed if anything changes, and tell little man that his Unca Coop will visit when he’s well enough.”
“Will do,” I say. “Tell everyone I said Happy Thanksgiving, and give Violet special hugs from her Uncle T.”
“No problem, man,” he replies,
I poke my head back into the room to let Easton know I’m going to the cafeteria to get lunch. We’re not allowed to eat in Cam’s room, so we usually take turns eating at the parent’s center on the other end of the hall. This is the same place where Easton has taken most of her showers since Cam’s been admitted. The rules are very strict on what’s allowed, but it’s all in Cam’s best interest, so we can’t complain, even though keeping Blake away is slowly killing us.
The trip to the cafeteria is uneventful, and the food is less than appealing, but at least I know Easton will get to eat a good dinner later when she picks up Blake. Browsing through the lines, I finally settle on sandwiches and chips and get behind an older couple who’re bickering over the kind of bread the guy chooses.
Instead of annoying me, it makes me smile, imagining Easton and me at that age. I find myself smiling for no reason as I select a turkey sandwich for her and ham for myself. Just as I’m about to grab a bag of Doritos, the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. It’s a fucking weird sensation and immediately sets me on edge.
My eyes snap up and scan the room, only to stop and narrow on a tall, blonde woman as she hurriedly pushes past a few people on her way to the exit. I can only see her back, but it’s enough to send a stab of panic racing through my veins. I drop the sandwiches and practically sprint from the cafeteria, only to see nothing once I’m in the hallway. My only thoughts then are Easton and Cameron.
By the time I’m back on Cam’s floor, my heart is thundering, afraid of what I’ll find. When I enter the room in a rush, Cam’s napping, but Easton senses my alarm instantly. “What is it?” she asks, tucking her book into the chair beside her.
I slow my steps and plop down in the chair next to her with a sigh. “I … I’m not sure.” I prop my elbows on my knees and rub my temples. “I think I just saw Kennedy.”
Her fingers reach over and gently massage the nape of my neck. “Do you think or know?” Her voice is calm, the exact opposite of how I feel.
I shake my head, my gaze on the floor as I replay the scene over and over. “I don’t know.” I turn, meeting her eyes. “I can’t be sure.”
She gets up and steps over, maneuvering my arms so she can perch in my lap. “Trystan,” she says once she’s settled. Her soft eyes are so close I can see every nuance of the bright blue. “You can’t let yourself get so worked up, especially when you’re not sure.”
“I thought I was sure. I felt sure, but …” I trail off with a frustrated sigh. “I couldn’t catch up with her.”
“She can’t touch us, Trystan, but if it makes you feel better, we can have them tighten security when it comes to Cameron’s visitor list,” she suggests in her always sure, confident way. “Would you like that?”
“More than anything,” I reply, pulling her in so I can breathe in some of her calmness. “I love you, all of you, and I can’t allow her to hurt any of you.”
“She can’t hurt us,” she says in a soft but forceful voice. “We’re a strong family, and she can’t change that. I think it’s obvious we’ll have to deal with her at some point, but until she actually makes a move, she’s not our problem.”
I absorb Easton’s words and repeat them over like a mantra until I actually start to believe them. Finally, I repeat them out loud. “She’s not our problem.”
She smiles that award-winning smile of hers and presses her lips to mine for a kiss way too inappropriate for our son’s hospital room. Yet all it takes is for me to remember he’s sleeping before I dive headfirst into what she’s offering.
Day 16
When I enter Cam’s room, he’s sitting up in bed and smiles wide when he sees me. His eyes are bright and shiny as they focus on the small, fake, decorated tree in my hands. “You bring me a tree?”
“I did, dude, how are you feeling?” I ask as I look him over. He’s made drastic improvements over the past couple of days.
“I feel better,” Cam answers, nodding away as he watches me place the small tree on his bedside table. “Is Santa bringin’ me presents hewe?”
“Nah, bud, he isn’t, but I thought you’d like a tree until we go home. That sound good?” At his nod, I tilt my head to Easton and slide on the bed beside Cam. “I have something for you.”
He lifts his brows and his hands at the same time. “Where it at?”
&nbs
p; I chuckle and pull my phone from my pocket. Easton quietly joins us on Cam’s other side while I pull up what I want him to see. Hitting play, I hand the phone over for Cam to hold.
Blake’s voice fills the quiet anticipation of the room. “Hey, brother. I know you don’t feel good, but I miss you. Daddy said I can make videos for you, so I did.”
“Look, Mama, Blake sent me a video,” Cam says, showing Easton the phone while Blake’s voice still plays in the background. “And there’s our tree!” He points excitedly to where Blake is giving him the grand tour of the tree he and Easton picked up on Thanksgiving.
“He sent you a bunch of videos, sweetie,” Easton says, brushing along the top of his short hair. “There’s more to watch after this one, and if you feel up to it, you can make one for him, too.”
“I can?” Cam asks excitedly.
“You sure can, dude,” I answer, my smile wide and real.
He starts nodding enthusiastically and focuses back on Blake as he talks a mile a minute. My eyes find Easton’s over Cam’s head, and the relief is evident between us both.
Our boy is getting better every day.
Day 19
Dr. Andrews enters the room all smiles today. “Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Ashby. Good news.” She beams as she approaches us.
Easton and I both perk up and stand to greet her. “Morning,” Easton says. “News?”
“Good news?” I repeat.
She’s already nodding. “His latest results are exactly what we’ve been waiting for.”
“And does that mean what I think it means?” Easton asks, her hands nervously fidgeting as she awaits a reply.
“Yes.” Dr. Andrews smiles. “His absolute neutrophil count has been five hundred or more for three days.” She stops and takes a deep breath. “This means he’s showing signs of engraftment.”
With that news, the smile that breaks out on my wife’s face is like a bright beam shining through the fog. She turns and jumps into my arms, crying tears of joy. It isn’t until she steps away and wipes my cheek that I realize, I’m crying right along with her.
8 Keep Out
Day 20
Fucking finally!
My boys can see each other again.
With each day that passes, Cam’s physical improvement is becoming more apparent. He still has the occasional bout of nausea, but for the most part, he keeps down his food. Both his rash and cracked lips are long gone, and even his hair has begun to take on new life.
Blake’s a bundle of excitement as we ride the elevator to Cam’s floor. He’s fidgeting in his spot and talking a mile a minute about all the things he’s going to tell his brother. Instead of going to Charlotte’s today, I kept him home, even though he’s only permitted to visit for a few hours.
I take his hand as we exit the elevator, and he practically vibrates down the hallway. I chuckle and pull him to a stop, bending to his level. “Okay, dude, you’re going to have to calm down a little. I know you’re excited to see your brother, but Cam’s been really sick,” I explain, brushing my hand across his short, curly blond hair. “We have to be mindful of what he’s been through these past few weeks.”
“I know, Daddy,” he says with another vibration. “I just wanna see him. Please.” His mother’s sad, blue eyes are aimed at me in such a pleading way that it’s impossible to say no.
I sigh. “All right, bud. Let’s go.” I retake his hand and he practically drags me down the hall. When we reach Cam’s door, I tug, pulling him to a halt. “Okay, dude, here we are. Just remember, be careful.”
“Got it, Daddy,” he says, and I hesitantly push open the door.
I’m not sure what I expected, but I shake my head at myself for ever doubting them. It’s like they’ve never been apart. Cam scoots to the side as soon as he sees his brother. I stand in awe as Easton helps Blake up and he settles in like he’s done it every single day.
My eyes burn with overwhelming emotion.
Cam grabs Blake in a hug tighter than I thought he was capable of as soon as he’s close enough, and my soul sighs in contentment for the first time in over a month. It’s been a long, hard road to get here, but for the first time since this transplant began, I can finally see the finish line off in the distance.
And it’s fucking beautiful.
“That tree look littler than it did in my video,” Blake says, his arms making a general measurement. “Wait ‘til you see the one Mama and me gots.” He spreads his arms wide. “It really big.”
Cam nods his head very seriously. “Mama gets a big one all the time, and Santa leaves lots a pwesents.”
Warm hands encircle my waist as Easton presses her chest into mine. I drag my eyes from the little dudes to look straight into her sparkling blue ones. My hands settle on her hips, and I stare in fucking wonder. A wholeness I’ve been desperately missing washes over me.
She sighs a sappy, girly sigh. “I thought this day would never come.”
“You and me both, baby, but it did. It finally fucking did,” I reply, emotion tightening my throat, making my words come out in a whisper.
Easton tentatively reaches up and brushes along my jaw with her thumb while the boys chatter away behind her. “Today is the beginning of something wonderful, and I don’t think Cam and I could’ve made it through without you.”
“You could’ve,” I say, pecking her lips softly. “But I’m so goddamn happy you didn’t have to. This family …” I press our foreheads together. “You’re everything to me.” I lift my head and eye my sons. “They’re everything to me.”
She smiles and turns, tugging my hands around her midsection. “I would suggest we go and cover them with kisses, but I think we need to give them a little longer to just … enjoy each other.”
“They’ve earned it,” I agree, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.
We stay distant and watch them until they finally notice our absence, but when they do, all bets are off. Kisses and tickles and games of Go Fish round out our morning. The boys are calm, happy and just fucking wonderful.
Everything changes, though, when the door opens for Cam’s lunch delivery. It’s immediately obvious there’s something going on in the hall due to the loud voices that reach my ears. But what’s really fucked up is I recognize one of them, and my whole body goes on high-alert.
“Kennedy,” I snarl, standing instantly.
Easton’s wide eyes snap in my direction. “What?”
I start for the door. “That’s her.” Easton’s hand lands on my arm, tugging. I stop and spear her with a look. “I can’t let her get away this time.”
“But—”
“No buts.” I shake from her hold, my eyes pleading for her to understand. “She’s on Cam’s floor. I can’t let her near our sons.”
“Go then,” Easton says, drawing her arms around herself. “I’ll stay with the boys. Find out what she wants once and for all.”
I nod and stalk from the room without looking back. When I’m in the hallway, I crane my head, listening for the voices, but they’re no longer present. I start for the nurse’s desk, prepared to demand answers, but Kennedy’s voice reaches my ears, propelling me to follow.
As I close in on the elevator, a nurse is standing with her fingers gripped tightly around the forearm of the tall, slim blonde. My heart thunders in my chest while the scene plays as if it’s in slow-motion. The nurse drags her into the elevator and presses a button before stepping out with a smirk toward my ex-wife. It isn’t until the doors are closing that reality slaps me in the face, causing my steps to quicken.
I run toward the closed elevator doors, my palms slapping against the surface, before turning frantically to the nurse. “Where did you send her?”
She steps back, shocked at my outburst. “Mr. Ashby, she did not have permission to be on this floor. I removed her to the ground floor. If she returns …” Her words trail behind me as I run toward the stairwell.
I move down the six flights of stairs like my life depends
on it, and who the fuck knows, maybe it does. I must confront her. It’s a desperate need clawing inside my chest. It’s time her intentions are in the open. The cat and mouse game is getting old, but she always did know how to keep me on a leash.
As I race down the main hallway, my mind is whirring, my fear that she’ll elude me bubbling underneath the surface, but that isn’t to be. As soon as the elevator doors come into sight, she steps out, unaware of what … who’s coming for her.
I grab her arm and snap her around to face me, removing my hand almost instantly. “What in the fuck do you think you were doing on Cam’s floor? In this fucking hospital, even?” My voice is a shard of ice I deliver the words so coldly.
“Trystan.” My name is a plea from her lips—a plea for sympathy. “You startled me,” she says, placing her hand on her chest.
“Fuck that, bitch,” I spit, my fists clenching. “I said what are you doing here?”
Tears gather in her eyes, and if she thinks for one moment they’ll make a difference with me, she’s lost her fucking mind. I start for the security guard at the door, intent on having him call Katherine, but Kennedy’s footfalls beat a hasty step behind me.
“Trystan, wait. What are you doing?” she calls, rushing to grab my arm.
I stop and glare at her until she removes her fingers from my person. “I’m having you removed and banned from this hospital.”
She gasps, her crocodile tears drying almost instantly. “How dare you. You can’t do that! My son is here.”
When the words my and son fall from her lips, every muscle in my body tenses and I step forward ready to strangle the life from this bitch. “Your son?” I ask my voice deadly calm, held in check by pure willpower alone.
“Yes. My son,” she says defiantly, pretending not to be intimidated, but she fucking better be.
I’m so close to exploding I’m not sure she’d survive the backlash. “You don’t have a son, Kennedy. Those boys up there”―I point toward the ceiling, my face just inches from hers―“they’re mine … Easton’s and mine. They’re our sons. Emotionally, as well as legally,” I add, giving a random passerby the stink eye when he gets too close.
