Emerson's Fury : L.B. Pavlov (25 page)

“You’ve been dealing with so much on your own. Can you ever forgive me? I’m so sorry for not being there for you. I love you so much. Please, please forgive me,” she said as she hugged me tightly, holding onto me as if I was her lifeline.

I pulled her away to look in her eyes. “Emerson, there is nothing to forgive. You didn’t do anything wrong. I should have come to talk to you, but it was such a blow to me to find out that Blane was my father that I just didn’t know what to do. But you don’t need to be sorry for anything. I love you,” I said, and I gently kissed her perfect lips.

“I love you too,” she said, and her whole face glowed. “OK, so we need to figure this out. Can you stay with me tonight, and we will get up early and go to the hospital together in the morning?” she asked.

“I would like that,” I said, tracing her bottom lip with my finger.

“I will get on the computer as soon as we get to my room, and we will research everything on being a kidney donor so that we can ask all the necessary questions tomorrow. We will do this together, OK?” she said, and she kissed me again.

“Thank you,” I said, and we sat together for the rest of the track meet. Emerson held my hand, and she wouldn’t let go, even when she went to get her bag.

It was clear that we were both happy to be together again. Obviously we had both missed each other deeply, and we would never be apart again.

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Cross and I stayed up all night talking and reading on the computer about kidney donors. There were many questions to ask and a lot to find out before he could make a decision. I had made a list that was three pages long with everything that we needed to know.

Hannah met Cross, and she told him how miserable I had been without him and all the tissue we had gone through because I cried so often over missing him. He wrapped his arms around me and whispered in my ear, “I love you to the moon and back.”

Cross told me all about his teammates; his roommate, Greg; and all the new friends he had made at Notre Dame. We called and talked to Mila and Paisley and filled them in on everything that had happened. They were so excited that Cross and I were back together. My parents seemed very happy that Cross had come to see me and that we were going together to the hospital. My mom helped contribute to the list of questions, and they both had concerns about how donating a kidney would affect him. Many questions needed answers before we could decide if it was something that he should do.

We got up in the morning and headed to the hospital. Cross was nervous about seeing his mother and was unsure how to handle the situation. I promised him that I wouldn’t leave his side, and we would do this together.

Dr. Cearlock had Cross’s blood drawn, and we waited together in the waiting room. I looked up to see Shari coming down the hall. They took her into a room and drew her blood as well. She came out to the waiting room, and she smiled at both of us.

“Hello, Cross. Hello, Emerson. Thank you both for being here,” she said quietly.

Cross did not speak; he just nodded at her, and we all three sat in silence for quite a while. Cross squeezed my hand while we waited. Shari kept staring at us; she definitely seemed nervous. The nurse walked out and asked Shari and Cross to come into the doctor’s office.

“Emerson is with me. I would like her in the room with me when I speak to the doctor,” he said adamantly.

“That’s not a problem at all. You can all follow me back,” she said nicely.

We all sat down in awkward silence. I was relieved when Dr. Cearlock entered the room.

“Hello, Cross, Shari, and, um…” he said, waiting for a name.

“Oh, hello, it’s Emerson,” I said, shaking his hand.

“Hello, Emerson,” he said kindly.

I felt something was wrong because the doctor was noticeably uncomfortable. I looked at Cross, and he squeezed my hand again.

“OK, well, before we go any further, I need to disclose something to you,” he said nervously, as he fumbled through his papers.

We just stared at him in confusion.

“OK, Shari, you actually are a match. Your blood type is A positive, the same as Mr. DiAmico’s. However, with the narcotics that were found in your blood, you are not someone we could consider as a donor. And I must inform you that once you take a blood test at a hospital, it is our legal obligation to notify law enforcement about the narcotics found in your blood,” he said uneasily.

“Excuse me? There are no narcotics in my blood. This must be a mistake. Are you even a real doctor? This is crazy,” she said, clearly flustered.

“Mom, be quiet. Let him finish,” Cross said curtly, and Shari squirmed in her seat.

“Well, Cross, here’s the twist,” he said, clearing his throat to prepare to say something important. “Your blood type is actually B negative, son.”

The doctor stared at Cross, waiting for his reaction. Cross and I were puzzled. We didn’t get what he was saying.

“So are you saying that I am not a candidate?” Cross asked, confused.

I turned to the doctor. I had taken enough science classes to slowly put together what he was saying. “Oh my gosh. He’s B negative? Are you sure?” I asked, my hands shaking.

“I’m certain,” the doctor said, still staring fixedly at Cross. “Cross, if your mother is A positive, and your father is A positive, which is what Mr. DiAmico is, you could not be B negative. Do you understand what I’m saying?” he asked carefully.

Cross abruptly turned to his mother. I could see the anger building in his eyes. “He’s not my father?” he asked, gritting his teeth to control his emotions.

Shari just stared at Cross, trying to process what the doctor had just said. Suddenly, as if it wasn’t a big deal and she had known this was a possibility, she turned and said, “Well, I hoped that he was. I did what I had to do back in those days, Cross. I was an addict. Blane was certainly not the only person I had ever been with. But he was the one that I wanted to be your father,” she said, sounding desperate to convince him at the end.

“You wanted him to be my father? Seriously? The guy went to prison for trying to kill Charlotte, and he was the best choice? And then you lied to me and destroyed everything that I cared about, and you didn’t even know if he was my father? My God, you were going to have me give him a kidney, and you didn’t even know if he was my father?” He sounded calm now, as if he had decided to be OK with what he was hearing.

“Does it really matter, Cross? I’m your mother, and that’s what matters,” she said, trying to grab his hand.

He stood up. “Dr. Cearlock, thank you for your time. You have no idea how much you’ve helped me. I’m sorry that I’m not a match, but I’m grateful that this happened. Thank you for finally clearing this up for me.”

Dr. Cearlock stood up and shook his hand. “I’m sorry I had to do this, and I appreciate you coming down here to help.”

Cross stretched his hand out for mine, and he led me out of the office. His mother chased us down the corridor, and Cross didn’t turn around or respond to her.

Two police officers came walking down the corridor, and as we walked by, I heard them say, “Miss Shari Tarantino? We need you to come with us.”

We heard her putting up a fight and yelling and screaming as well. Cross squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, and then he turned to look at me and smiled.

We got to my car, and he opened the passenger door for me. When he got into the driver’s side, we both just stared out the window for a minute. So much
had happened in the last forty-eight hours. Blane DiAmico was not Cross’s father. And it really didn’t matter anymore. None of that was important anymore anyway. All that mattered was that Cross and I were together.

“Are you OK?” I asked quietly.

“I’m more than OK. I’ve got all that I need right here in this car,” he said, and he turned to look at me intently.

“Me too. I love you,” I said, and I meant it with all of my heart.

He leaned toward me and whispered in my ear, “I love you to the moon and back,” and then he pressed his perfect lips to mine.

◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆

e p i l o g u e

Everyone was so excited that the day had finally arrived. As I looked around the room, all of my girlfriends were putting final touches to their hair and makeup. My mother was sitting on the couch in the beautiful room where we were getting ready, and our eyes met. She was gorgeous. Her dark eyes were glossy, and I could see the emotion in her gaze. She stood up and walked toward me.

“You look absolutely beautiful, Emerson. I can’t wait to see you in your dress,” she said, and her voice was trembling from her obvious attempt not to cry.

“Thank you, Mom. Please don’t cry. This is such a happy day, so crying is not allowed,” I said, laughing.

“Oh, honey, I know. I am so happy for both you and Cross. You have waited such a long time for this day to come, and it’s just more than I could ever ask for to see you this happy,” she said, squeezing my hand.

“Oh, tell me about it!” Paisley called over to us, laughing. “We have all been waiting for this wedding to happen for a long time.”

Cross and I had been talking about getting married for several years. We were the only couple I knew who had had a four-year engagement. The question
was never if this was the man I should marry. Cross was my heart and soul. He was everything to me. Thank goodness I had fallen in love with the world’s most patient man. Cross wanted our wedding to be everything that I had ever dreamed of, but I had a list of things that I needed to accomplish before I could focus on planning the grandest wedding that had ever taken place in the state of Indiana.

Cross and I had both stayed at our respective colleges for four years and received our undergrad degrees. We were able to see one another several times a month during those years, and Cross had a wonderful run on the Notre Dame football team. He was finished with football after college. He had no desire to play football professionally. Cross’s true gift was architecture. He was an incredible designer and had an eye for modern buildings with clean lines. He went on to study his craft in graduate school, and he was already one of the most sought-after architects in Indiana. I was so proud of him. He had such an artistic gift, and he had designed some incredible buildings in town already.

Cross’s real passion was his inherent desire to help under-privileged kids who just needed some guidance. He had started an inner-city club for teens that helped turn their attention toward athletics and education. I volunteered as often as possible, and Cross loved it when I came downtown and worked with him on the weekends.

I had successfully run cross-country and track at Indiana University for four years and had a wonderful college experience as well. Cross was with me every step of the way as I accomplished my dreams of running in the Olympics. I focused on one event and won the gold medal in the fifteen hundred meters for the United States. I realized on my journey why my mom didn’t feel the need to go back after winning a silver and a bronze medal. Love was more important to her, and I could now relate to that. Whatever the outcome would have been, I knew I would be hanging up my running shoes after the Olympics. I was eager to start my life. But I had decided that I was going to take that one shot, and, as Finn liked to say, I was going to go big or go home. I won the gold by one-one hundredth of a second. Cross and my entire family were there to support me, and I was prouder than ever. I felt I had accomplished what I had set out to do, and I could close the door on that chapter of my life.

Becoming an attorney was next on my list before I would allow myself to focus on my wedding. I didn’t want wedding planners or other people to plan this important day for Cross and me. I didn’t trust anyone with all the little details that I knew would make it special. My mom laughed at me and teased me
that I was a control freak, and perhaps I was when it came to our wedding, but I was going to make sure that it was everything that we wanted it to be. I wanted it to be perfect, and I wanted to do it with my mother at my side.

So, law school became my obsession. I needed to finish it first in order to focus on a wedding. If I was going to graduate before I got married, then I was going to be the best lawyer that I was capable of being. Cross supported me endlessly and quizzed me for the LSATs night and day. I attended law school at the University of Notre Dame so that I could be with Cross at the same time. Graduating first in my class made the wait worth it.

The past year had been all about the wedding. It was everything that I had ever dreamed it would be. My mom was a wonderful help. She planned right along with me, letting me make all the major decisions. I wanted it to be traditional, and I wanted it to be a true celebration that represented both Cross and me. We chose an old mansion in town as the wedding site, and the grounds were incredible. With old trees and incredible landscaping, it was a breathtaking location for an outdoor wedding. I wanted it elegant but casual and comfortable at the same time. I had hundreds of tea light lanterns and white flower balls hung from every tree. Long, beautiful wooden tables filled the tented reception area. Little antique silver buckets filled with white roses and baby’s breath were alternated with white candles along the center length of the tables. White vintage plates with white linen napkins tied with raffia were at each place setting. White tulle bows were tied around the rustic, wooden chairs at each place setting, with a chipboard tag hanging off each chair with the person’s name hand-painted in black script. Chandeliers hung from every point of the tented area, and a large dance floor had the emblem that Cross had designed of our initials painted across it. Around the entire edging of the tent and along the area outside the tent, there were hundreds of bushels of hay placed around the perimeter for people to sit on and place their drinks on.

I wanted to wear my mother’s wedding dress, but I added hundreds of crystals to the bodice. I liked the idea that she had worn this to marry the man of her dreams, and now I was wearing it to marry the man of my dreams. I didn’t like the idea of heels at my wedding. I wore cowboy boots under my dress so that I could kick up my feet and dance. Cross loved the idea of wearing cowboy boots with his tux. He felt it made the formal attire feel much more casual and fun. I loved it too, and it was perfect for the setting of the wedding. Everything was white and clean, and the outdoorsy feel of nature was everywhere. It was perfect. I couldn’t wait to see it all put together because I had seen it in my head
for months. I knew exactly how it would look, and I knew that it would be something that I would remember forever.