A Heart of Time

by Shari J. Ryan

She wraps her arms back around me. “I was given six years—a gift from Ellie. It was a gift, Hunter. I was never supposed to make it past twenty and now I’m almost thirty. It’s a gift. Please, realize what she did for me. Her heart was supposed to be only for her but she shared it so I could experience just a little bit of a normal adult life. It’s all I had wanted since I was diagnosed with heart failure at fifteen. I’m not sad. I’m not scared. I’m so unbelievably grateful for what you and Ellie have given me.” What did I give her? I didn’t give her Ellie’s heart. I would have fought Ellie on giving away her heart if I had known her plans. I wanted to keep her together and whole for my own selfish reasons, which is crazy since she was cremated into a billion pieces, but because she was smart enough not to tell me, Ari was given time because of Ellie. Only Ellie.

  “I’m not leaving your side,” I tell her.

  “Yes, you are,” she responds. “You’re going to go be with the woman you are in love with, and it will make me happy to know I can leave this world to find Ellie up there and tell her that in return for the gift of her heart, I made sure your heart is happy.”

  Her sentiment is appreciated but I can’t sit here and tell her I’m walking away now because she’s dying—because Ellie’s heart is dying. “I’m going to do whatever it takes to help you.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she says. “My parents are moving in with me next week.”

  “Is it going to just happen or...”

  “I’ve been through it once before. It’ll be a gradual deterioration again, the doctor said.”

  “What about another donor? Can we find you another donor?” I’m spitting off ideas I’m almost positive she has already considered.

  “Hunter,” she laughs quietly. “Ellie was my one and only. Trust me. I’m sure you knew she had a rare AB negative blood type.”

  “Yeah, the rarest of blood types. It wasn’t something I ever had to think about, though,” I tell her.

  “Fate brought Ellie and me together, I believe. Less than one percent of the population has that blood type and to end up finding her, it all just felt like a sign for both of us.” Ironic, how we both feel the same way about Ellie—for so long, I considered Ellie to be my one and only. Though, the healing process has recently proven to me that sometimes there is more than one chance for all of us.

  “One percent of the world’s population is seventy-one million, Ari.”

  She squeezes me again and rests her head against my shoulder as her hand finds mine and brings it up to her chest, allowing me to feel Ellie’s heart beating again. “Now do you understand why I told you I am not your path?”

  “Yeah,” I breathe, “but your path brought me to where I am right now. You were right about Robert Frost being wrong.”

  “Take me to Charlotte,” she says. “I need to talk to her.”

  “What? Why?” I ask, pulling away, staring at her with question.

  “Just take me to her.”

  During the ride from the gardens to my house, I feel like I’m stuck in gridlock traffic. I grip the steering until my knuckles are white, my chest is aching, my throat is tight, my head is pounding, and I still feel like I might get sick. I’m trying to understand everything Ari just told me. I’m also trying to find loopholes and ways to spin this in a better direction. No one has ever told me they’re dying and now that it has happened, I feel lost in the center of a black tornado, one that’s sucking my organs out of my pores. She was right in a way about Robert Frost being full of it. In some aspects there are no paths to choose from, everything is predestined and when a person is meant to die, they die. There are no options.

  “Do you feel sick and stuff?” I ask her.

  “I’ve been a little tired, breathless, and nauseous, but I have definitely experienced worse.” Of course she has, she was days or weeks from dying when she received Ellie’s heart. Now she has to go through this all over again. How cruel is life to do this to someone twice?

  “I want to help you,” I tell her again. I’m not going to sit back and pretend she doesn’t exist until I read her obituary in the paper some day.

  “I appreciate that,” she says, “but knowing what I will go through over the next several months is not something I want anyone to bear witness to.”

  “That’s selfish,” I tell her. “Do you think I care what you look like?”

  “Hunter,” she says firmly. “I will not put you through this a second time. Losing Ellie was more loss than you should ever have to deal with in one lifetime.”

  I twist and squeeze my grip around the steering wheel, wanting to say so much but knowing nothing I say will have any effect.

  “What about the flower shop?”

  I see her shrug out of the corner of my eye. “I’ll keep working until it becomes too much.”

  “And what, you just drop dead one day while you’re alone in the shop?” I shouldn’t have said that. Her eyes are shooting invisible daggers at the side of my face and she has every right to be looking at me that way.

  “My mother calls me every hour. If I don’t answer, she will assume I’m dead,” she snaps, finally getting angry, herself. Her tone is harsh, her words cold, and full of so much fucking pain, pain that she’s been trying to hide.

  “Can I visit you?” I ask, attempting to act a little gentler. I feel like I already know the answer to this, considering there are only so many ways I can ask the same question.

  “No,” she says without much thought.

  “But the store is open to the public, isn’t it?” Now I just sound childish, which I know won’t help but it makes me feel better.

  “Hunter,” she sighs. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.” Now she sounds like Mom lecturing me. “If you don’t think I would like to die some meaningful death beside the man who has become so intricately woven through every facet of my life, then you’re wrong. I love that you have chosen to spend so much time with me over the past few months. To know the man who lost his heart the day Ellie gave hers to me has offered me more peace than you could ever imagine. Again, though, that was selfish. I wanted to meet you so I could feel better knowing you weren’t still that man folded in half beneath a pay phone at the hospital. I needed to know you were surviving. God gives and God takes. He gave to me and took from you, and I needed to personally thank you because it was the least I could do.” Ari sniffles briefly through a pause in her clearly unfinished thoughts. “You’re an incredible person, Hunter, and I have cherished the time we have spent together—my guilt isn’t as suffocating since I know you’re going to be okay. But beyond that, my selfishness ends here. Now, I want to protect you from watching another person in your life—die.” She makes it sound like she was using me but I wanted to be near her for a selfish reason, as well. A reason that won’t exist for much longer because she’s going to die.

  Die. Those three letters pack a punch every time I hear them—they symbolize the end of everything. My ears should be numb to that word by now, but they aren’t. It takes such a short breath of air to say it and while it seems to always be followed by a period, there is no real need for one because “die” defines completion. The period should be a silent punctuation mark; quietly puncturing it’s way through the heart of anyone who witnesses the meaning of this stupid word.

  We pull into my driveway and I step out first, watching as Ari stares expressionlessly out through the windshield. I want to know what is going through her mind. I want to know if everything she just told me was a forced lie and that she really does want me to be there for her. But as the thought runs through my mind once more, I remember the last breath I saw Ellie take on her own without a goddamn machine hooked up to her. I remember witnessing her lifeless body only moments after her brain died. The life that was once written across her face relaxed into a smooth surface of plateaued nothingness. I’m not sure I have it in me to live through that again in any form, whether our relationship was based on selfish gains or not, but I would if it meant something t
o her...I would stand by her side.

  I have not fallen in love with Ari in the typical man loves a woman fashion. Instead, I love the person who has taken the time with Ellie’s heart to make sure everything her heart has touched has been cared for in some way. I love that a person was able to keep her heart alive, even if only for a short time. Ellie’s heart was large and full of so much love, care, and compassion that it deserved to go those extra miles.

  I open Ari’s door and offer her my hand. “I can get out myself,” she says, humbly. “Thank you, though.”

  Once outside of the truck, Ari leads the way toward my front door but I stop her. “Charlotte moved home today.” Ari looks at me for a few long seconds, peering back and forth between my eyes. “She was happy to get her house back.”

  Ari’s brows arch a touch as she processes this tidbit of information. Then she turns and brushes by me, heading down the driveway toward the street. I follow her onto Charlotte’s driveway and up to her front door. I still have no clue why she wanted to come here or what she needs to say to Charlotte but we’re here now, and I should find out soon why she’s doing this.

  Charlotte answers the door, looking confused at first. “Ari? Are you okay?” She didn’t see me at first glance but now she does and the question grows stronger within her eyes. I give her the same puzzled look back, letting her know I have no idea what this is all about. “Come in,” Charlotte says, backing away from the door, allowing us to come inside. Boxes are now scattered, rather than stacked how I left them. Half of them are torn open and the other half are still taped shut. The furniture hasn’t been taken out of storage yet but the moving company is supposed to be bringing everything by tomorrow morning. Basically, the house is empty.

  I hear the girls singing and dancing in one of the rooms upstairs and the echo of their voices tells me that room is still barren, too. “I’m sorry to intrude on you like this,” Ari says, taking in the scene of the empty house. “I’m sure you have a lot to do and you don’t need me taking up any of your time but I felt it was necessary to come over here and talk to you. Both of you.”

  Charlotte’s expression has turned into worry, and I can assume she is as in the dark as I am on what this could be about and why Ari wants to be here in Charlotte’s house.

  “I’m sorry I don’t have a seat to offer you,” Charlotte says. “You look frazzled. What’s going on?” Charlotte looks at me as if the answer might be written across my face or spoken by my eyes but I don’t think there’s a look to convey that a person in this room is dying.

  “Hunter is in love with you,” Ari says in between heavy breaths, sounding as though she just climbed a set of stairs. “He talks about you all of the time. His eyes light up when I mention your name. He talks about Lana as if she were equally as much of a daughter to him as Olive. Sharing a home with you for the past few months was a treat for him, something he enjoyed, rather than a person living with a roommate. You moving out is hard on him. You are the family he has wanted since Ellie passed.

  The relationship that has existed between Hunter and I has been a glorified friendship, one I have enjoyed more than I could ever explain. I am only the person who carries Ellie’s heart, and I’m not the one who should be standing between you two.”

  “Ari,” Charlotte croaks. “Why...”

  “I’m saying this because you look at him the same way. You talk about him whenever you and I speak. You love Olive. You have loved living with the two of them and you are only moving out because you think it is what he wants.”

  “That’s not true,” Charlotte says with the sound of hesitation woven through every word. “Not all of it is true.” I’m not sure it matters what parts are or aren’t true. They all essentially mean the same thing.

  “Hunter adores me,” Ari continues. “He is in love with my heart. He has been a really good companion and he has removed the guilt I was desperate to shed.” Ari walks closer, taking Charlotte’s her hands in her own. “I feel lucky and grateful to have spent this time learning about him, hearing his happiness poke through his words when he talks about you. I have watched him gradually grow happier as the months have gone by and it’s fulfilling to me. It has made me love him.” Ari laughs softly as a pink blush fills her cheeks. “My heart belongs to Ellie, and Hunter’s heart belongs to you, Charlotte.”

  Charlotte’s eyes grow wide as a film of tears underline her lashes. “I don’t think I understand why you’re saying all of this,” Charlotte says.

  I feel like I should step in and shield both of them from the pain, but I don’t know how to and I don’t know what to say. I don’t think it’s my right to announce Ari’s preplanned future.

  Ari leans toward the stairwell, presumably making sure the girls are not in hearing range. As she re-straightens her posture, she draws in a sharp, short breath. “There was never a life-long warranty on this heart I have and each transplant turns out differently. Some are lucky and live a long life, while others don’t make it through the first six months after surgery. I’ve had almost six years and I consider it lucky.”

  “What?” Charlotte asks through a hitched breath.

  “I won’t make it through this next year,” Ari says without wavering a syllable.

  Charlotte isn’t as strong, however. Tears are barreling down her cheeks; leaving red streaks down the center of her already flushed skin. There are no words to follow Ari’s, as I’ve already learned. Instead of speaking, Charlotte leaps toward Ari and wraps her arms around her neck. I wonder if Charlotte has ever been told by a person that they are dying or if this is a first for her, too. I’m guessing it is. Charlotte’s eyes are wide, unblinking, and staring directly at me as if someone just delivered world-shattering news. It definitely shatters our own little world and changes everything.

  Ari wraps her arms around Charlotte in return and rests her head on her shoulder. “I’ll be there for you,” Charlotte says. “Every day. Whatever you need. We’ll all be there for you.”

  Hearing the warm words float from Charlotte’s mouth highlights the feelings I have always felt toward her. “That isn’t necessary, but thank you for the kind offer,” Ari says, pulling away from Charlotte’s tight grip.

  “You must be out of your mind,” Charlotte argues. “I’m your friend and I will do anything I can to be whatever you need from here on out.”

  I know they have spoken when their paths have crossed but I’m not sure I would have classified them as friends in the awkward situation I created for the three of us. “I don’t want to put you through what is about to happen to me,” Ari explains. “Especially Hunter.”

  “Stop worrying about me,” I tell Ari.

  “Look,” Ari says. “I came over here today because I need you two to work things out and be there for each other. I need to let Ellie know that I did what I promised I would do and that is to make sure Hunter is happy. I made this promise to her years ago when she knew her time would come sooner rather than later. I made this promise when neither of us knew who would outlive whom.

  Charlotte and I are in a stare off, apparently trying to read each other’s minds.

  “It might take some time to intertwine your pieces back together,” Ari says, looking between the two of us, “but Charlotte is your path, Hunter.” Ari holds her focus on Charlotte now. “And Hunter is yours. I’ve never been surer of anything in my entire life.”

  “Ari,” Charlotte says, but without anything to follow it up with, silence fills the empty room.

  With what feels like the longest minute of my life, Olive’s footsteps eliminate the icy silence and she runs toward Ari and wraps her arms around her legs. “Did you tell him?” she asks Ari.

  Question and heat spread through me rapidly, wondering what Olive knows and what Ari told her. She is my daughter and I will be the one to explain life and death to her. That is my job and my right; one no one should take from me. Though I realize I might be assuming too much, I can’t for the life of me imagine what else Olive could be r
eferring to. When would Ari have told her?

  “Tell me what, Olive?” I try to keep my voice calm and my breaths tamed but my face is burning and I’m sure it’s red.

  “I haven’t yet, Olive,” Ari says.

  “Ari has a gift for you,” Olive says.

  Ari reaches into her purse and pulls out an envelope. “Read this when it’s too late to thank me,” she says, handing it to me. The coffee filter looking envelope matches all of the others she sent to me over the years. “Promise me.”

  My words feel lodged in my throat so I do the next best thing and nod a yes.

  “I know you’re saying your goodbyes right now, Ari, but you haven’t seen the last of us,” Charlotte says sternly. “You’ll have to hire an army to keep us away.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  - DECEMBER 26th -

  I climb into bed with Olive, wrapping my arm around her, embracing the warmness her body offers. Her curls are splayed across her pillow in a knotted mess and her cheeks are the perfect shade of pink. It is her birthday, but she is my gift. Seven years, this little girl and I have made it. Seven years. “Happy Birthday, Ollie,” I whisper into her ear.

  She whips her head, turning over onto her side to face me, leaving me with a face and mouthful of hair. “It’s my birthday,” she croaks. “I feel so old today.” With quiet laughter, she drags herself up against the headboard, pulling the blankets up to her waist. “Ready?”

  I smile and stand up to open the blinds. “Now I’m ready,” I tell her.

  “Happy Birth Day to you,” she begins in her soft voice that mimics a soothing lullaby. I join in with her as we continue, “Happy Birth Day to you. Happy Birth Day, dear Mommy, Happy Birth Day to you.”

  I make it through our yearly tradition without tears this year but only because the happiness pouring from Olive’s eyes right now makes it impossible to feel sadness.

  “My turn,” I tell her.

  “Happy Birthday, to you,” I sing all the way through. I lean over the side of the bed and pull out her gift, placing it gently on her blanket- covered lap.