by Dorie Graham
“Oh, no,” Alex said, surprised the woman hadn’t noticed her resemblance to Robert, but he’d been moving at a good pace. “That was my brother.”
A sad smile curved the woman’s lips and she nodded. “I’m so sorry.” She gestured toward the door where Robert had disappeared. “I’m here waiting on my daughter. She’s about halfway through her radiation treatments. Her burns have gotten pretty bad.”
“Oh,” Alex, said, uncertain how to speak to a mother whose child had cancer. What could one possibly say? “I’m so sorry, as well. How old is your daughter?”
“She just had her nineteenth birthday. She celebrated with a nice dose of Etoposide.” The woman’s voice cracked.
Empathy washed over Alex. How was it the woman wasn’t always in tears? How did one bear such a burden?
“That’s a type of chemo?” she asked. “I’m new to this and just arrived to help care for my brother. I’m still getting caught up on the reading, but I think he had that, too, along with a lot of other drugs I can’t pronounce.”
“Yes,” the woman said, pulling herself together. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
It sucked and she’d just gotten started with it. What must it be like for all the other patients and caregivers? Heaviness pressed down on her. No wonder Robert was always in a bad mood. Who could stay cheery in the face of all of this?
“She’s having this in conjunction with the chemo. We’re counting down until she’s finished with both. So far so good, but we still have a ways to go.”
“Best of luck to you both,” Alex said.
“You said your brother already had chemo, so they aren’t treating him simultaneously?”
“No,” Alex said. “He underwent a stem cell transplant, but it didn’t work.”
She gestured to her neck, since Robert’s tumors were most evident in those lymph nodes. “The tumors came right back, so his transplant oncologist wants him to have another transplant, but using donor stem cells this time. The last time they used his own.”
She inhaled, surprised at how her emotions rose speaking to this stranger about it. “The radiation is more to buy him some time until they find him a donor. We’re hoping to find one in the family.”
“Oh, my,” the woman said, her expression grave. “That sounds dire.”
“He’s a fighter, though. I think he’s too mean to let this thing beat him,” Alex said, for lack of a better response.
The woman smiled. “I’ll say a prayer for him, for you both.”
“Thank you,” Alex said as the heaviness threatened to crush her.
How bad was it that a mother whose nineteen-year-old child had cancer and was going through radiation and chemotherapy felt their situation was dire?
She closed her eyes. She couldn’t think like that. Somehow, she had to keep her spirits up. God knew Robert wasn’t the one to do that. If she let all this get to her, then the situation would be dire indeed.
* * *
“ROBERT PETERSON,” a small woman in scrubs called from a side door of the waiting room at the North Fulton Blood and Marrow Transplant Group later that afternoon.
Robert stood and Alex rose with him. “I’m coming back with you.”
“Do you have any respect for HIPAA regulations?”
She stopped short of the woman in scrubs, who eyed them curiously. “If you really don’t want me to come with you,” she said, “I won’t, but one of us should take notes in case we need to follow up on anything and if I’m not there, that someone will have to be you.”
Anger emanated from him as he frowned at the notebook and pen she held out to him. “Fine. Suit yourself.”
Smiling tightly, she scooted along after him as he followed the woman down a hall then into a cramped office. The woman showed them to two seats set before a desk cluttered with files and medical journals.
“Dr. Braden will be with you shortly. He wants to give you an update and then we’ll draw your blood work,” she said before exiting.
The silence Alex was beginning to hate settled around them. The light fixture above the desk hummed. Alex racked her brain for something to say.
“Steven says hello,” she said.
Robert glanced at her, but made no comment. Her frustration level rose. Why did he have to make this so difficult?
“He’s sorry he can’t get away right now.”
“I don’t want everyone coming here,” Robert said angrily. “I get that everyone has lives and can’t just drop whatever they’re doing and travel to my bedside. It’s bad enough you’re here. Why would he need to be here, too?”
She blinked. “He doesn’t need to be, I guess, unless he’s a match and can be your donor, then I’m sure he’ll work something out if that’s the case. He was just thinking it would be nice for me if he came for a visit. I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“You two...” Robert shook his head. “What? Are you feeling outnumbered here? Need someone else on your team? Speaking of which, I saw Chase with you on the porch the other morning. Why was he at the house? I asked him not to come by. I guess I should have known he’d find an excuse to drop by to see you, though.”
“He didn’t even know I’d arrived yet. He was stopping by for you, and Chase is not on my team,” she said. “That was actually the problem back then. That’s why we broke up. That’s why I also told him not to come by the house anymore.”
“You’re so unreasonable, Alex. When are you going to grow up? Forgive and forget. Dad did something stupid a million years ago and you let it tear this family apart.”
Anger simmered through her. “Oh, I tore the family apart? The fact that he screwed the neighbor woman had nothing to do with that?”
The door opened and a man in a lab coat, presumably Dr. Braden, entered. He wore a side part in his overly thick hair, giving his head a lopsided look. He extended his hand to Robert. “Robert, how are you doing today?”
Robert shook the man’s hand. “I’m doing okay. A little tired, like usual.” He gestured to Alex. “This is my sister Alexandra.”
Alex also shook the man’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Doctor.”
“Likewise.” The doctor settled into his chair behind the desk and faced them. “You’re the sister from Baltimore who’s come to help during the next transplant?”
“Yes,” she said.
He pursed his lips and opened a manila folder, the contents of which he reviewed for a short while. She glanced at Robert, but he wouldn’t look at her. She was unreasonable? How could he blame her for their family falling to pieces?
At last the doctor glanced up and removed his reading glasses. “Your father didn’t come with you?”
“No,” Robert said. “He’s at his hardware store.”
“We do disclosure statements with the typing, but I’m a little hesitant to discuss the results with you without him here,” the doctor said.
Confused, Alex swung her gaze to Robert, then back to the doctor. “He sent me instead. Robert’s the patient and he’s okay with me being here. We’d like to hear the typing results.”
“Do you have a number for your father? I think we should call him.”
A feeling of unease crept over Alex as Robert frowned and pulled out his cell phone and made the call. “Dad?” he said. “Hey, we’re with Dr. Braden and—”
The doctor gestured for Robert to pass him the phone.
“Hold on, Dad, he wants to talk to you.” Robert handed the man his phone.
To Alex’s surprise, Dr. Braden held up his finger to ask them to hold on and then he stepped from the room.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Alex said.
Robert merely sat brooding beside her while the moments ticked by and the doctor’s unintelligible mumbles sounded on the other side of the door. After a few interminable moments he stepped inside the room and handed Robert his phone, saying, “Thank you.”
“Dr. Braden,” Robert said as he leaned forward, “what was that about? If
you don’t have a match, why don’t you just say so?”
The doctor settled again in his chair. “I needed clearance from your father to speak frankly about the results. We have gotten the results of all the typing and I’m sorry to say we don’t have a suitable match from your family.”
“None of my siblings match?” Robert asked.
“That’s correct.”
Robert shifted. “Out of four of them? Is that normal?”
“It happens, unfortunately.”
“So, do we keep looking in the donor bank, or do we go with my dad? He’s a fifty percent match, right? You said it’s more complicated, but doable.”
Dr. Braden cleared his throat. “We keep looking.” He patted the folder. “Unfortunately, your father wasn’t a match, either.”
“Well, not a hundred percent match,” Robert said, “but you said parents are always a fifty percent match and if we needed to go with that we would.”
“That’s true,” the doctor said, “but in this case, your father wasn’t a match. And that’s why I needed to speak with him, but he’s given me permission to disclose his results to you.”
“Wait. What do you mean he wasn’t a match? You mean not a fifty-percent match, not a match at all?” Alex asked.
“Correct.”
“I don’t understand.” Robert shifted in his seat. “How is that possible?”
Dr. Braden again cleared his throat. “I’m not sure how to say this, but children get half their genes from each parent, so a biological parent will match four out of eight human leukocyte antigens. They’ll be half matched. In this case there was a zero HLA match.”
“What are you saying?” Robert asked.
Alex inhaled slowly. The moment took on a surreal feeling. “He’s saying that Dad isn’t your biological father. Isn’t that right, Dr. Braden? That’s what you’re trying to tell us. That’s why you had to talk to him first.”
The man shook his head slowly. “We can rerun the typing to make sure there wasn’t an error, but from what I see here and from the conversation with your father, I’m afraid that’s correct.”
Alex slumped in her chair. This couldn’t be right. Robert stared at her in stunned silence. Why the hell had she insisted on coming with him today?
CHAPTER EIGHT
“CHASE, I’M FREAKING OUT here,” Kara said, panic edging her voice.
“What’s up, hon?” Chase straightened from his computer, where he’d been working on labels and catalog text for the new exhibition, and focused on the call.
“I’m not sure. Pansy and Carl are in some kind of trouble. I don’t know what’s going on. I think they were selling drugs or something. Shit. I can’t believe this. I knew they weren’t cool. There are cops and DFCS all over the place. This chick says I have to go with her.”
“What? What chick? Let me talk to her.”
“I hate this, Chase. They’re going to put me in another foster home. This is crap. I was supposed to spend the night with you and they said I can’t do that now.”
“Let me talk to the woman, Kara,” Chase said.
He pressed his lips together while Kara spoke briefly with someone on the other end.
“Hello? This is Rhonda Smith with the Division of Family and Children Services.”
“Ms. Smith, this is Chase Carrolton. I’m Kara’s stepbrother. Can you tell me what’s happening there?”
“The DEA is taking her foster parents into custody, Mr. Carrolton. The officer in charge has requested emergency placement for the children, Kara included.”
“What about me? Can’t she be placed with me? I’ve already spoken to her caseworker and requested custody. I’m her family. I’m waiting on the Relative Care Assessment to be completed. Can we expedite her placement with me?”
A short silence crackled across the line. “I can’t make that decision, but I’ll check with her caseworker to see where they are with the request.”
Frustrated, he gripped the phone. “Thank you. What happens in the meantime?”
“She’ll go to an emergency foster home until they can process your request, but that should be done relatively quickly.”
“Thank you. Can I please talk to her?”
“Certainly.”
Kara came back on the line. “Why won’t they let me come stay with you?”
“I’m working on it, Kara. I made a request for custody and I think they can expedite it, especially under the circumstances.”
“You did? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case it didn’t work out. I didn’t know how long it would take. But Ms. Smith is going to check the status and get everything expedited.”
“Will you call me and let me know what’s happening?”
“Sure, hon, I’ll call as soon as I know something. And you please keep me posted on where you are in the meanwhile and I’ll try to get away to come see you later, okay?”
“Thanks, Chase. Hey, I love you.”
His heart warmed. Maybe taking in his stepsister wouldn’t be so bad. He could obtain some semblance of the home he longed for. “I love you, too, Kara. I’ll talk to you soon.”
* * *
RED FLASHED IN FRONT of Alex, drawing her thoughts from the ethers and bringing her attention back to the road in front of her. She slammed on her brakes, coming to an abrupt halt before the light, her arm flinging to the side instinctively, holding Robert back. Her heart thudded and she inhaled slowly.
“Sorry,” she said.
“Christ, Alex, pay attention.”
Pay attention? Since the dear doctor had dropped the little bomb that her brother wasn’t her father’s son, her mind was officially blown.
How was she supposed to focus on anything?
“I should have driven,” Robert said. “I should never have let you come. You overreact to everything.”
She gripped the wheel and shook her head. “This is insane. How can you sit there and not react? How can you be so calm? How is any of this happening?”
“Obviously, Dad isn’t the only cheater in the family.”
“Exactly. How is that possible?” The light changed and she accelerated through it. “What do we say to him? I’m... I can’t wrap my brain around this. I can’t imagine how this makes you feel.”
A dry laugh worked its way from her brother’s throat. “I’ve had a shit year. I guess this is just par for the course.”
Empathy washed over her. How could she be concerned about herself when this meant that not only was Robert’s parentage called into question, he was also out a donor for the transplant?
“Robert, I’m so sorry.”
His eyebrows arched. “This doesn’t just affect me, you know.”
“Well, of course, it affects all of us. We’ll have to tell everyone, or they won’t understand why Dad isn’t the donor. We’ll talk to Dad first, for sure, but they’re all going to flip out.”
“Yes, but I was thinking this could affect you, as well. I mean, Mom cheated, right?”
“Obviously.”
He leaned back and stared at her, his look smug. “But for how long?”
She glanced at him, then in the rearview mirror, before anchoring her gaze again to the road. She and Robert had the same blue eyes as their father, but then so did the rest of their siblings, and their mother was blue-eyed, as well, but the two of them alone shared the same dark wavy hair and fair skin tone missing from the rest of their family. People had always commented on how much they resembled each other.
“Oh, my God,” she said, her heart pounding. “We have to talk to Dad.”
“Do you think he knew?”
“I guess he wouldn’t have gone through with the typing if he’d known, but surely he suspected,” she said. “I mean, how does something like this...happen without anyone knowing?”
“There’s only one way to find out. We’ll ask him. He should be back from the hardware store by the time we get home.”
Soon a
fter, she turned onto their street and slowed. “I’m so not looking forward to this.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe now you’ll have to stop being mad at him, now that Mom’s no longer the innocent wounded victim in this scenario. Maybe she got her just rewards.”
A throbbing began in Alex’s temples as they exited her car. People were just too complicated to comprehend. Her black-and-white assessment of the world had just gone gray.
* * *
“CHASE, I THINK I HAVE good news.” Tony Abeline’s voice crackled across the line. “I’m jumping on an elevator, so I’ll make this quick. I have a contact at DFCS. Your stepsister was moved to an emergency foster home. These places are only meant to be temporary, so no permanent custody issues with them. DFCS has filed a motion for a hearing to transfer legal custody to you until she turns eighteen. They’ll subpoena her parents, providing they can find them.”
“Dad is easy to locate if they’re counting him, but trust me, he doesn’t want custody.”
“All the better. Stay tuned for a hearing date. Meanwhile since she’s in an emergency foster home, her caseworker is pushing for immediate placement with you. They just need satisfactory history, home and criminal background checks. Keep in mind, even if she gets placed with you right away, nothing is final until the hearing.”
“So, when is the home assessment?”
“They should be calling you by the end of the day to schedule it. So, do what you have to do to get that place in tip-top shape and be ready.”
“Should I call Kara and let her know, or is there a chance this still might not happen?” Chase asked.
“Man, it’s never for sure. I’ve seen some crazy stuff when it comes to custody, but I’d say you can be optimistic. Relax and I’ll get back to you if I hear anything else. Otherwise, you should hear from the caseworker yourself.”
“Thanks, Tony. I really appreciate all your help.”
“Well, I hope you’re still feeling that way after you’ve had Kara with you awhile. Seventeen is a tough age, especially for a kid who’s spent more time in foster care than not.”
“It’ll be all right,” Chase said. “But maybe I’ll wait until I hear something for sure before I call her.”
