Plain Pursuit (20 page)

“Crazy things happen when it’s
not
a full moon. Life is just crazy.” Noah crossed an ankle over a knee, pushing the rocker slightly into motion.

“Did you hear anything else after I left?”

Noah had about two days’ worth of five o’clock shadow. Stroking his stubble, he stared out at the darkness. “No.”

“I’m probably going to extend my stay. I just got off the phone with my editor and put a bug in his ear. I think Lillian will need my help during all this.”

Noah’s eyes met Carley’s. “This situation is horrible. The only bonus is that you’ll be here longer than you planned.”

She caught the compliment but didn’t acknowledge it, glad the night hid the blush rising in her cheeks.

“Lillian and I have been friends for a long time,” she said. “I’m going to help her and her family any way I can.” She paused and reflected on the hardships Lillian had faced. “Lillian’s had a difficult time too. She’s doing great now, but she had a long journey getting here. I hate that this is happening to her family.”

“I’m sure she appreciates that. Her mother showed up at the hospital right before I left.”

“Oh, that’s good. She and Sarah Jane are very close. They weren’t always, but I’m so glad they are now. Moms aren’t around forever.”

“You miss your mom.”

Carley crossed her arms across her chest and gave herself a heave-ho in the rocker. “Yes, I do.” Cutting her eyes in his direction, she added, “And I know you miss your mother, too, Noah. That’s why I have a huge problem with this whole shunning thing. Your mother is alive, and you should be allowed to have a relationship with her.”

Noah started to say something but stopped short when his pocket began to vibrate. He grabbed his cell phone and glanced at the incoming number. “It’s Dr. Bolton.”

12

“IS EVERY THING OKAY?” CARLEY ASKED NOAH WHEN HE hung up with Dr. Bolton.

“Ken doesn’t usually call in the evenings unless it’s important. He wanted to make sure I knew the renal team would be talking with the family around six thirty tomorrow morning. They’re going to suggest a kidney transplant—as soon as possible.”

Carley was afraid to ask the next question. “Noah, everyone keeps saying
end-stage
renal disease. What does that mean? Is he—?”

Noah finished her sentence. “Is he going to die?”

Carley’s stomach twisted. If Noah’s expression was any indicator, she didn’t want to hear his answer.

“Noah, tell me that boy is not going to die. He’s only thirteen years old.”

Noah opened his mouth to speak. Instead, he shook his head.

“Noah?” she asked again.

He reached over and placed his hand on hers, as if not wanting to alarm her. But alarms were ringing—about David and about his hand on hers. “The team will do everything to ensure it’s a successful transplant. It’s done all the time and with good success. But there are risks.” He paused for a moment when she pulled her hand out from underneath his. Then went on. “Anyway, one problem can be finding a kidney. Some people are on a waiting list for years. The best option is for a family member to donate a kidney.”

“Samuel?”

“Anyone who has David’s blood type and whose kidney is a good match. The best match is going to come from a blood relative.”

Carley took a deep breath and let it out slowly, somewhat relieved. “That sounds hopeful, then. Is there a risk to the person giving up a kidney?”

“There are risks with any type of surgery, but like I said, most of the time everything goes well. There are more risks for the person who receives the kidney. The body will automatically reject the kidney and treat it like it’s a foreign object. We give the recipient immuno-suppressant medications to trick the immune system, which helps fight the natural rejection of the kidney.”

“So anyone in the family who has David’s blood type can donate a kidney?”

“Only if it’s a good match, which is determined by running some tests. Don’t get me wrong, this is major surgery. If everything goes well, living with a transplant is a lifelong process. David will have to make some lifestyle adjustments and will probably be on medication for the rest of his life.” He stared at her with sympathetic eyes. “I probably need to let you get some sleep. I’m going to go back to the hospital and look at David’s chart. I didn’t even notice what blood type he is.”

Carley stood up and watched Noah stifle a yawn. “I think you need some sleep too,” she said before starting down the porch steps beside him.

“I’ll call you in the morning and let you know what I find out.”

“Okay.” She watched him walk across the yard toward his car.

He turned once to wave, then slid into the driver’s seat, turned the car around, and headed down the dirt driveway. Carley stood in the yard until he rounded the corner and was out of sight.

“The only bonus is that you’ll be here longer than you planned,”
Noah had said.

Carley looked up toward the smiling moon and the twinkling clusters that surrounded it. It scared her to make too much of Noah’s comment, but there was no denying that his words made her heart flutter.

Lillian leaned back in the reclining chair in David’s room, although sleeping didn’t seem to be an option. The nurse said the medications they were giving David would help him sleep. She was thankful he was resting comfortably, despite the monitors intermittently beeping to indicate one thing or another.

Lillian glanced at Samuel, who was sitting in a chair by David’s bedside. It was almost one o’clock now. Her husband refused to even rest his eyes and stared intently at his son, watching every rise and fall of the boy’s chest. For all the worry in her heart, she knew it couldn’t compare to the fear Samuel felt. She tried to imagine how heart-wrenching it must have been for him to sit by his wife’s bedside when she died in this very hospital. And now this.

“Do you miss the
boppli
?” Samuel asked after a while.

He knows me so well
, Lillian thought. It was her first night away from Anna. “
Ya
, but I know Carley is taking
gut
care of her.”

“She is a
gut
friend to you, no?”

“
Ya.
I’m glad she’s here, although this isn’t the vacation she planned.”

Samuel scowled. “She vacationed with
mei bruder
.”

“Samuel,” she whispered, “maybe now is the time to let go of some of your bitterness. He is your family. I know what he did was wrong, but he’s trying so hard to help us.”

When he didn’t answer, Lillian momentarily stepped outside of her role as submissive wife, as she was known to do from time to time. “This anger you feel toward him is not right in the eyes of God, and you know that. I understand about the shunning, even though it’s hard for me to accept. But, Samuel, harboring all this contempt isn’t
gut
.”

“What he did was
baremlich
. All these years later, you can still walk into the Gordonville Book Store and find a copy of his book. A book filled with stories about our family and members of our district. Some
gut
, some not so
gut
. But they were all private. Not for sharing.”

“I understand, Samuel. Really I do. But what about forgiveness? That is our way. We forgive, just as God forgives.”

“Lillian, I forgave Noah a long time ago,” he stated. “But I do not have to have him in my life. He made his choices, and he has to live with them.”

“Yes, I do.”

They both turned to see Noah standing in the doorway.

“And I don’t know how many ways I can tell you I’m sorry, Samuel,” Noah added.

“Do you have more news about David?” Lillian jumped in before Samuel could respond.

Noah shook his head. “No, only what I told you earlier. Just as I suspected, they will be recommending a kidney transplant.”

“Pop?”

They all turned to David. Lillian walked to where Samuel was sitting at David’s bedside. Noah stayed at the threshold, unsure whether to move forward or leave.

“
Mamm
died in a room just like this one. Am I gonna die?” David asked in a raspy voice.

“No, no, no. Of course not, sweetie.” Lillian said. Her unspoken fears stabbed at her heart.

The color drained from Samuel’s face, and he reached for his son’s hand. “Everything will be fine.”

David was unconvinced. “But I feel so bad,” he whispered. “I think I might be dying.” His eyes darkened with emotion. “I dreamed about
Mamm
while I was sleeping.”

Samuel stood and Lillian reached for his hand. He was trembling.

Noah rounded the foot of the bed and stood on the other side of David. Lillian braced herself for Samuel’s reaction. Nothing. She squeezed Samuel’s hand and focused on Noah, begging him with her eyes to ease the way, to reassure all of them that everything was going to be all right.

“David, the reason you feel so bad is because your kidneys aren’t working properly,” Noah began. He glanced up at Samuel, as if seeking permission to go on. While Samuel wouldn’t look at Noah, he didn’t bark his opposition either.

Noah continued, “Plus some of the medications can make you feel strange too. But, David, we aren’t going to let you die.”

“I know I’m gonna have a kidney transplant,” David said matter-of-factly.

No one had told David the news. Lillian looked as surprised as Noah and Samuel.

David rolled his eyes. “Sometimes
I’m just resting, not sleeping.”

“You have two kidneys, David,” Noah said. “A donor can give you one of his or her kidneys, and the donor can live a perfectly normal life afterward. And—”

“He will take my kidney,” Samuel stated. He stood a little taller, his tone firm. “My boy will have my kidney.”

Noah raked his hand through his hair and turned to Samuel. “It’s not that easy, Samuel. A donor must have the same blood type as David, and the kidney must be a good match. There are tests that determine who will be the best match.”

“I’m his
daed
. His blood type should be the same as mine, no?”

“Not necessarily. He could have his mother’s blood type.” Noah turned to David. “David, we will find you a kidney. Try not to worry. I know the hospital can be a scary place.”

“I’m not scared,” David said boldly. Then he turned to Noah, searched his eyes. “Is this my fault?” he asked.

The question tugged at Lillian’s heart.
Why is this happening? We
were all so happy.

“No, it’s not your fault, David,” Noah responded. “Your kidneys just never grew. You were born with this condition. It’s not your fault.”

David moved his eyes off of Noah and looked down. “But I . . .”

Noah touched David’s arm. Lillian could feel the tension in Samuel’s hand. “You’ve felt sick for a while, haven’t you?” Noah asked.

David nodded. “I’m sorry, Pop.” He looked up at Samuel.

Samuel shook his head. “You don’t need to be sorry, Son.”

“But maybe I should have told you. It’s just that there’s so much work to be done, and I didn’t want to cause hardship.”

Lillian knew her own guilt probably didn’t match Samuel’s, but it was there amid all the questions swirling in her head. How could they not have known David was so ill? If it was anyone’s fault, it was hers. She was a mother. She should have noticed.

“This is no one’s fault,” Noah said. He leaned down slightly toward David. Then he straightened up and glanced back and forth between Lillian and Samuel. “No one’s fault,” he repeated. “All of you should try to get a little sleep. There’s a roomful of recliners in the ICU waiting room. The staff will provide you with some blankets and pillows. The renal team will be here at six thirty to meet with you. That’s only a few hours away.”

Lillian was surprised when Samuel moved toward the door. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

Once outside David’s room, Samuel motioned for Noah to come into the hallway.

“Try to rest,” Noah said as he circled around the foot of the bed and headed out the door.

Something is up.
“I’m going to stretch my legs too,” Lillian told David. She kissed him on the forehead before joining Samuel and Noah outside the door.

Samuel took a few steps down the hall, out of David’s earshot. Lillian and Noah followed.

Samuel’s questioning eyes glazed with emotion. He inhaled slowly, pursed his lips together.

“What is it, Samuel?” Noah asked.

“Samuel?” Lillian was wondering the same thing.

Lillian watched her husband look hard into Noah’s eyes and painstakingly reveal what was on his mind.

“This kidney that David will get . . .”

“Yes,” Noah said. “What about it?” Noah stood a little taller as if bracing himself for what Samuel was about to ask.

“How long will it last?”

Lillian had just assumed it would last forever, but the look on Noah’s face said otherwise.

“Tell me.”

Noah ran his hand across his brow. “Ten to fifteen years.”

Lillian grabbed her chest. “In ten years, David will only be twenty-three.”

She turned to Samuel. Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes.

“If all goes well, sometimes a transplant recipient can get another kidney,” Noah said, reaching over to touch Samuel’s arm.