Heart to Heart

by Lurlene McDaniel

  I picked up a piece of paper and read out loud. “ ‘Sometimes a phenomenon is reported by transplant patients of having memories or of doing actions that belonged to their donor.’ ”

  Wyatt said, “It’s most common with heart transplants.”

  I got goose bumps. Arabeth said, “Go on.”

  Wyatt shuffled papers. “I printed out case histories. Here’s one where a recipient got a guy’s heart and she woke up craving a beer and a cig. She’d never drunk or smoked. And here’s one where a man got a woman’s heart and now he buys things in the color pink and the special perfume she always used.”

  That hit close to home because Arabeth wore the same fragrance as Elowyn had worn.

  “I guess it’s good you got a girl’s heart,” I said to her. “You might have wanted to take up football or fishing.”

  She smiled, but sobered quickly. “Do you think this could be what’s happening to me?”

  “Seems logical,” Wyatt said. “One recipient reported that she saw bright lights and felt heat on her skin, and it turned out that her donor had died of smoke inhalation in a fire.”

  “I had a dream once,” Arabeth said. “I dreamed I was driving in rain, really bad rain, and I—I was crying. And the car skidded and there was a tree right in front of me.”

  You could have heard a pin drop in the room. She glanced at both of us. “I only had it once,” she added, as if in defense.

  Wyatt tucked the paperwork into the file folder and closed it. “I thought you should know about cellular memory,” he said quietly.

  “Why didn’t my doctor mention it?”

  “Real science thinks it’s a load of—” He stopped himself. “You know, that it’s not possible.”

  “It’s real to me,” Arabeth said.

  “And to me,” I said. “Sometimes it’s been like Elowyn is in the room with me.”

  Wyatt nodded in agreement. “Not your fault, Arabeth. Sometimes you are her.”

  She studied us both. “Does your research tell how a recipient can lose a donor? How she can get those cell memories to leave her alone?”

  “The syndrome isn’t medically accepted. I don’t know how you can lose the sense of her you have. I wish I did, but there’s no research on that,” Wyatt said.

  “So I just have to put up with her invading my mind forever?”

  I hadn’t thought of it like that. I hadn’t considered how it made Arabeth feel to be in someone’s else’s thoughts with no warning. Of what it must be like to see her life through someone else’s eyes. “Maybe it’ll go away in time, as you get more strength and your life keeps changing,” I said hopefully.

  Arabeth pushed back into her pillows and stared up at the ceiling. “I know she was a wonderful person. I know you both loved her. I know you’re both here because I remind you of her. I get it. But just remember … I’m Arabeth Thompson. This is who I’ll always be. It’s who I always want to be.”

  · 28 ·

  Arabeth

  They didn’t know I was awake, and they didn’t know I could overhear them while they stood on the other side of my hospital room talking. Their whispers were soft at first, but grew louder as they discussed me.

  At first Mom’s voice held just a hint of irritation. “Terri, you don’t have to hang around this hospital day in and day out. Arabeth’s doing fine. Her doctor is telling me he’ll send her home in a couple of days.”

  Terri said, “I know, but I’m just worried about her.”

  “Why?” Mom asked. “I told you she’s doing fine.”

  “She almost died.”

  “That isn’t—” Mom stopped herself. “Before she got the heart, she almost died several times. She was a very sick girl.”

  “It must have been terrible for you. As her mother, I mean.”

  “And that’s the point. I am her mother.” Mom’s words were loaded.

  Terri didn’t answer right away, but finally she stammered, “I—I know … I—I’m not trying to be her mother.…”

  “Listen, we will always be grateful for the gift you gave us. It was an act of untold generosity and I don’t know how else to say thank you.”

  I lay on my side rigid in the bed, fully awake. I peeked open one eye and made out Mom and Terri in the gloom of the fading evening light coming through the window behind them.

  “Just seeing her getting better is thanks enough.”

  “You say that, but it isn’t enough, is it?” Mom said.

  “I like being around her.” Terri’s words came haltingly. “She … she reminds me so much of Elowyn. She even acts like her.”

  “But she isn’t Elowyn. She isn’t your daughter.”

  Terri’s head jerked up. “I know. Do you think I don’t know that?”

  Mom massaged her forehead, the place between her eyes that she always rubs when she’s stressed out. “Sometimes you don’t act like you know it. You take her places. You buy her things. You treat her as if she’s yours.”

  My heart hammered and the blip quickened on the monitor I was hooked up to. I cursed the machine. Both of their heads turned toward me and I shut my eye, afraid they might catch me listening in. The interruption settled Mom and Terri and the tension between them lessened.

  “I like being around her. Me and Matt both. We like her company. It’s comforting. It fills up the holes inside us. I miss my Elowyn so much.” Terri’s voice cracked.

  I almost sat up in bed and clamped my hands over my ears. I wished I could split myself in two. I wished I could be a daughter to both my mother and Terri. I ventured another peek. Mom had reached over and taken Terri’s hand.

  “Terri, go home. Please. I know you hurt, but neither Arabeth nor I can fix it.”

  Terri turned to stare at me. “If … if she has another problem … will you call me?”

  “I really don’t think that’s a good idea. It won’t help you break off this attachment.”

  Terri looked stricken and glared at Mom. She pulled away and rushed out the door without another word. Mom slumped against the wall. I shut my eyes because it hurt too much to see her sadness and to feel Terri’s raw pain. My heart squeezed. Medical science or not, I knew Elowyn was hurting too.

  The brightest spot during my hospital stay came from Kassey’s visits. I needed a girlfriend, and she was the closest thing I had going. Yes, she’d been Elowyn’s best friend, but that didn’t bother me. Whenever she came into the room, she lifted my mood. Sometimes I even believed that Elowyn was drawing us closer together, especially if there was any truth to Wyatt’s cellular memory information.

  “They ever letting you out of this place?” Kassey was sitting in my room, her feet propped up on the side of my bed. She’d brought a few videos for us to watch.

  “Maybe tomorrow. I’ve been whining to my doc for days. School starts next week and I’m going even if I have to drag this stupid monitor with me.”

  She grinned. “That’s a threat. I’m sure your doc is worried about you leaving with hospital property.”

  “He better be,” I groused.

  “Has Terri sneaked in for a visit since she and your mom had it out?”

  Naturally I’d told Kassey everything. “No. Mom scared her off.”

  “I feel sorry for her. I mean, Elowyn was hers and Matt’s whole world.”

  “I like them, and they were nice to me.”

  “I like them too,” Kassey said. “Matt was crazy about Elowyn. She could twist him around her finger and get most anything she wanted. I used to envy her … I mean, with my dad gone and all.”

  “My dad was a pushover too. I remember when he built my playhouse—the day we’d come home from a doctor’s visit when the doctor had said I needed to stop going to the playground. That it was getting too strenuous for me. I loved the playground on the army base. I cried and cried.”

  Kassey looked sympathetic.

  “Dad showed me a magazine with all kinds of playhouse plans. I picked the one I liked best and we even went to the lumber
yard together to buy the wood. I picked out the colors for it—lime green and pink—and he painted it after he’d built it. Mom bought me a little table and chairs to put inside and it was my favorite place to be in the whole world.”

  “I like it too. A little small now, though, as I remember from Fourth of July.”

  I smiled. “It was a friend magnet. At least for a while. But everybody grows up.”

  “Do you know your eyes shine when you talk about your father?”

  Kassey’s observation made me blush. “Sorry.”

  “No, it’s cool. Elowyn had a great dad. You had a great dad. That’s outstanding.”

  I sipped some water, hesitated for a second before I said, “I saw Dad the day I collapsed. I saw him as plain as day.”

  “You mean you dreamed you saw him.”

  I shook my head. “He was as real as you are.”

  She looked skeptical. “Tell me about it.”

  I’d only told Mom my story. I didn’t want Kassey to think I was totally nuts, but the experience had been so real—plus it was my experience, not Elowyn’s. “I was walking in a field of flowers, in sunlight. It was the most beautiful day I’ve ever seen. The colors were supercharged, really intense,” I said. “And Dad came out from behind a line of trees.…”

  · 29 ·

  Kassey

  I couldn’t get Arabeth’s experience with her dead father out of my mind. I’d asked her, “Was it one of those out-of-body experiences? You know, like you read about and hear about on TV?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I mean, you had died, hadn’t you? Do you think you went to this place while you were dead? Before they zapped you back?”

  She’d shrugged. “I had no sense of time. One minute I was on my porch talking to Wyatt, then my chest hurt, then I was in this beautiful place, and my father found me. I wanted to stay, and at first he wanted me to stay. But then he told me to go back, so I did. Next thing I knew I was in the hospital and Mom was begging me to stay with her.”

  Yet it was more than the story itself that fascinated me. It was what she said right before I left to come home. I was digging in my purse for my car keys when she said, “You’re very lucky, Kassey.”

  I glanced up, followed the lead wires partially covered by her hospital gown reaching over to the heart monitor. “I know.”

  “Not about this,” she said, pointing to the monitor. “You’re lucky because your father’s still alive. I’d give anything if mine was. I got to see my father. That was the best part … seeing him alive and well and perfectly whole. You know, a roadside bomb destroys a soldier, so I couldn’t see him at his burial.”

  I had nothing to say.

  “He was so happy when he saw me across that field of flowers,” she added, flashing a radiant smile.

  Even now, in the privacy of my room, I got chills remembering Arabeth’s words and the expression on her face. I was lucky. I’d never thought so. My dad left Mom and me and we’d gone on without him. He’d come back into our lives. He wanted me to care about him, and I’d said no way. He’d said he was sorry. He sent us money. He’d made our lives better since first contact. Mom had forgiven him. Why hadn’t I?

  I turned on the TV. I turned the TV off. I picked up a teen magazine. I put it down. I made chocolate pudding and filled dessert dishes. I cleaned the kitchen. Nothing calmed my restlessness. Finally, I sat down at Mom’s computer and called up my father’s e-mail address. Staring at the blank screen, I didn’t know how to begin.

  Dear Dad

  Father

  Dear person who walked away

  Steve

  Finally, I just started typing. The message was short, but I was certain he would respond.

  Dad … it’s me, Kassey. I’ll be a senior this school year, so I guess it’s about time we got to know each other. You go first.

  I was buying school supplies in a superstore and ran smack into Wyatt—and a pretty blond girl who was holding his hand. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her. Wyatt said, “This is Cindi.”

  “I was JV cheerleading last year,” Cindi said. “You played awesome volleyball.”

  Now I remembered her.

  “I’ve moved up to varsity this year.”

  If I was supposed to be impressed, I wasn’t. “Cheer on,” I said.

  She gave me a quizzical look. Her gaze shifted and she waved to someone behind me. “Yoo-hoo! Allison!” I turned to see a girl two aisles over. “I’ll be back in a jiff,” Cindi said, and took off toward Allison.

  Wyatt shifted from foot to foot.

  “New girlfriend?” I asked.

  “Now don’t go chewing my butt, Kassey. I like Cindi and … and it’s been a long time since—well, you know.”

  I held up my hand. “It’s all right. You should move on.”

  He looked as if he was waiting for a punch line, but I had none to give him.

  “What about Arabeth?” I asked.

  He jammed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “You were right. She’s too young for me.”

  “Lame,” I chided, recalling that I’d once told him that.

  He stared at a spot above my head. “I like her. She’s nice.” His gaze connected with mine. “She scared the crap out of me when she went down on the porch. I broke her fall, but she was out. Her face was turning blue and she was gasping for air. I thought I was going to have a heart attack waiting for the EMTs to arrive. If her aunt hadn’t been there and given her CPR—” He stopped short. “I can’t do this again. I can’t get involved with a girl like Arabeth.”

  I knew what he meant: He couldn’t get attached to a girl who was a few heartbeats away from a permanent checkout. “Does she know?”

  “Know what?”

  I gestured over my shoulder with my thumb to the effervescent Cindi.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “You haven’t told Arabeth?”

  He looked embarrassed. “Don’t know what to say.”

  “You go see her and break it off. It’s a courtesy.”

  “I can text her,” he offered.

  “Coward. No e-mails either.”

  “Can’t you tell her for me?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Do I have to smack you again?”

  He grinned. “Management will never let you in the store again if you do.”

  I returned his smile. For the first time in a long time, I felt comfortable around him, like in the days when the boundary lines between us were clearly drawn. It had been Elowyn who had brought us together; it was the loss of Elowyn that had kept us together. Trying to relive our experiences with Elowyn had forced us apart and turned us into the odd couple. And it was Arabeth and her uncanny links to Elowyn that had messed with our heads.

  Cindi came bounding up, linked her arm through Wyatt’s. “I can’t wait to tell you what Allison told me.”

  I backed away. “Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you at school.”

  Wyatt said, “Sure thing.”

  Cindi said, “I’ll be your best cheerleader when you play volleyball.”

  “Can’t wait,” I said.

  I walked toward the cashier, clutching the basket holding my back-to-school supplies. I checked out, and walked quickly to the exit. When the soft swish of the automatic door closed behind me, I knew another door was closing too.

  · 30 ·

  Arabeth

  I was going home from the hospital. Crisis over. Mom was on her way to come get me. She’d called to say she was stuck in traffic. “The road’s at a standstill,” she said, sounding exasperated.

  “It’s all right,” I told her. “I’ll get packed up, then I’ll wait in the room until you show up. You don’t want me to miss my favorite soap, do you?”

  That made her laugh because I wasn’t a fan of any soap operas.

  I was putting my stuff in a suitcase when I heard a man clear his throat from behind me. I turned to see Matt Eden fra
med in the doorway. “Matt! What a nice surprise.” My heart accelerated because I hadn’t seen either him or Terri since Mom’s discussion with Terri. Surely Terri had told him what Mom had said.

  “Hello, Arabeth. I hope you don’t mind me dropping by.”

  “No, no. It’s good to see you,” I said, feeling flustered.

  “So you’re blowing this pop stand, are you?”

  It took me a minute to catch on to his meaning. When I did, I said, “Oh, you mean I’m getting out of here. Yes, Mom’s on her way.”

  “I’m happy you’re going home. Terri and I want you to be happy and well.”

  “Um—I appreciate that.” I paused. “How is Terri?”

  “She’s fine.” He held out a gift bag. “She wanted me to give you this.”

  I took the bag. “You don’t have to—”

  “Just a little something to remember us by.”

  “Are you leaving?”

  “In a way. I want you to know we won’t be hanging around you like we have been.”

  My face got hot and I knew I was red-faced. “Mom didn’t mean—”

  “Shhhh,” he said. “That wasn’t meant to hurt your feelings. It was just a clarification of our place in your life.”

  “You have an important place in my life.”

  “You’re kind to say so.” His southern drawl was soothing. He nodded at the bag in my hand. “You going to open that?”

  “Oh, sure.” I pulled at the bag, lifted out a small scrapbook with a lavender leather cover. “For me?”

  “None other. Terri put it together.”

  I sat on the bed, opened the book. In lovely gold-lettered calligraphy were the words: HEART 2 HEART. HANDMADE FOR ARABETH THOMPSON. A photograph of me laughing was centered on the page. I turned page after page only to see myself at the aquarium, at the inn serving food, smiling in many different settings. The photos were beautiful, and I was dumbstruck. “How did you take all these? I remember posing for some, but the others …”

  He looked pleased. “Mostly when you weren’t looking. But you’re a pretty subject, so it wasn’t difficult to get grab shots.”