The Color of a Dream (10 page)

Diana stood. “Rick grew up in Connecticut. I
know that much, and his parents still live here. His father’s a
dentist. I met them once when they came to LA to visit. They never
mentioned another son.”

I inclined my head. “If Rick and Jesse are
estranged, do you think Jesse might be willing to tell us why?
Maybe he has some information that would be helpful.”

Diana blinked a few times. She was probably
still in shock that Rick had a brother she never knew about. “It
depends on what happened between them and what kind of person Jesse
is. If he’s a drug addict or in prison or something, he wouldn’t be
credible.”

“How can we find out?” I asked. “Do you know
Rick’s parents well enough to contact them?”

“Oh no,” she replied. “I wouldn’t go that
route. They’re probably gung ho to help Rick get custody of their
only grandchild. Besides that, if they didn’t disclose to me that
they had another son when I met them, they’re probably estranged
from Jesse, too. Ashamed of him most likely.”

We stared at each other intensely.

“Let’s go look him up online,” I
suggested.

Diana nodded. “Great minds think alike.”

We both made a beeline to the computer in
the den.

There were dozens of Jesse Frasers on
Facebook. Though we were able to narrow the results down slightly,
based on approximate age and location, it was impossible to locate
the man we were searching for. We didn’t even know if Jesse was
older or younger than Rick.

Eventually we gave up and shuffled off to
bed. I had trouble falling asleep, however, because something very
powerful was compelling me to find this man. I felt certain that he
would help us somehow and that my future with Ellen depended on our
finding him.

When I woke the next morning after a
restless and dreamless sleep, I fed Ellen in the kitchen and waited
for Diana to come downstairs before she headed off to work.

“Good morning,” she said as she entered the
kitchen in a black skirt, blazer and heels. “Good, you made
coffee.” She poured herself a cup and kissed Ellen on the top of
the head.

“I figured you could use it. We were up late
last night. Did you sleep okay? Because I hardly slept a wink. I
couldn’t stop thinking about Rick’s brother. I really want to find
him and talk to him. I just have a funny feeling.”

Diana sipped her coffee. “Then we should
keep looking because if there’s one thing I’ve learned in life,
it’s never to ignore a gut feeling.” She reached for a banana in
the fruit bowl and peeled it. “I know a guy who might be able to
help. The firm uses him sometimes to dig up information. If I tell
him the names of Rick’s parents, he’ll probably be able to get us a
phone number and address fairly quickly.”

“That would be great. Would you do
that?”

“Yeah, no problem,” she replied. “Now I have
to run. Enjoy your exercise today, but don’t overdo it.”

She grabbed her briefcase from the hall and
walked out the front door. Suddenly the house seemed quiet until
Ellen started beating her spoon on the tray of her high chair.

With the sun shining in the kitchen window,
I sat down at the table to organize my medications. I lined up all
my pills in a row and took them, one by one with my oatmeal and a
glass of orange juice.

Later I slathered myself and Ellen with
sunscreen, buckled her into the stroller, and we went for our daily
walk. It had taken many months to work up to this level of fitness
after my surgery, but now, each morning, we walked briskly for one
hour.

On that particular morning, despite my lack
of sleep, I felt remarkably energetic.

Oh, how I loved my new heart.

* * *

By the time we arrived home again, Ellen was
asleep in the stroller. I picked up the mail and had time to flip
through the envelopes on the front step before unlocking the
door.

One letter caught my eye, however.

Quickly I sat down on the step and ripped it
open right there, because the envelope had come from the organ
donor network.

I immediately began to read…

To the recipient of my son’s heart,

Thank you for your letter. It meant a great
deal to us to learn that something good came from my son’s
passing—that you are alive now because of the choice he made to
donate his organs. We have heard from some others as well, so it
appears his generosity has helped more than a few people.

Thank you again for telling us about your
improved health. We were pleased and uplifted to hear it.

We wish you all the best.

Sincerely,

The Donor Family

I’m not sure what I had expected, but as I
sat there in the bright sunshine on Diana’s front step, a crushing
wave of disappointment washed over me. It seemed such a brief and
impersonal reply, like a form letter that they probably sent out to
all the organ recipients who contacted them.

What had I hoped for, exactly? To meet the
family? To see a picture of my donor? To learn what sort of life he
had led?

Was he married? Educated? Was he a loner?
How did he die?

Clearly, however, this family did not want
to meet me, otherwise they would have shared more. The tone of the
letter definitely implied that they preferred to end any future
correspondence here.

A tear slid down my cheek and I wasn’t sure
why I was crying. Was it the fact that I’d just lost all hope of
learning more about my donor? Or was it because I shared this
family’s grief? I never knew this woman’s son but he had given me
his heart and today it was beating inside my chest, keeping me
alive so that I could know and raise my daughter. My donor’s
generosity had affected me in a profound and extraordinary way. I
wanted so badly to thank him. But I couldn’t.

And what about the dreams? Would I ever know
what they meant or why I was having them night after night?

As I rose to my feet I wondered what would
happen if I wrote another letter to the family and told them about
my dreams, because I simply couldn’t fathom the idea of giving up.
I felt certain that these dreams represented something
important.

* * *

“I think we found him,” Diana said that
evening when she walked through the front door.

“Who?” I asked, thinking of my donor of
course, because he had been at the front of my mind all day.

“Rick’s brother.” Diana set her purse down
on the table in the front hall and entered the kitchen where Ellen
sat in her high chair waiting for the next spoonful.

“And good news,” Diana added. “He’s not a
prison convict or a drug addict.”

“Wonderful!” I spooned some pureed carrots
into Ellen’s mouth. She made a funny face. “Do you know where he
lives?” I asked. “Can we contact him?”

“We can try. I’m not sure if he’ll want to
help us, though.”

“Why not?”

Diana gave Ellen a kiss on the head and sat
down. “Would
you
want to get involved in a child custody
battle concerning two strangers you’d never met and a brother you
hadn’t spoken to in over ten years?”

“No,” I replied honestly. “But maybe he has
an axe to grind.”

“Wouldn’t that be terrific,” Diana said, her
tone dripping with sarcasm.

“So what do we do now?” I scraped the
plastic baby spoon around the bottom of the carrot bowl and gave
the last bit to Ellen.

Diana leaned close to her and spoke in baby
talk. “We call him!” Ellen smiled and laughed. “Or rather, your
lawyer will call,” Diana added.

“You know I can’t afford a lawyer,” I
reminded her. “I have no money.”

Diana stood up. “Which is why it’s a good
thing my specialty is family law and I have a lot of friends. I
have someone in mind for this and he’s excellent. His name is Bob.
I’ll take care of this, so don’t worry about it.”

I smiled up at her. “What would I do without
you?”

“I have no idea.” She went to get some ice
water from the refrigerator dispenser.

“When will you call?” I asked.

Ice cubes clattered into her tumbler and she
checked her watch. “Look at that. It’s supper hour. Now’s as good a
time as any. I’ll make the call from my room.”

With that, she finished filling her glass,
carried it to the stairs and picked up her briefcase.

I had been waiting all day to tell her about
the letter I’d received from the organ donor network, but I decided
it could wait.

Ten minutes later Diana descended the
stairs. “You’re seriously not going to believe this…”

I finished wiping the plastic tray on
Ellen’s high chair, then picked up the toy key ring she’d just
dropped on the floor and handed it back to her. “What
happened?”

Diana entered the kitchen. “I called the
number we found for him today, which was for an area code in New
Hampshire, but it said that number had been disconnected.”

“Great,” I replied. “So we’re back to square
one?”

“No, they gave me a new number—for an
address right here in Boston.”

I stopped what I was doing and faced her.
“You’re kidding me. Did you call it? Did you talk to him?”

“I did but there was no answer. I heard his
voice on the answering machine though.”

“Did you leave a number for him to call you
back?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I didn’t tell him what
it was about, though. I didn’t want to scare him off. I just told
him it concerned his brother and it was urgent.”

“So now we just wait?” I asked.

Diana nodded and Ellen pitched the toy key
ring onto the floor again. I picked it up, wiped it off, and handed
it back to her.

“Since we have time,” I said, “I want to
tell you about the letter that came for me today. Have a seat and
I’ll get you a bowl of stew.”

Diana sat down at the table, but before I
served up the stew, I went to fetch the letter out of my purse. I
wanted her to read it herself.

* * *

After she read the letter, Diana replied
tactfully, “Well…it’s nice that they responded.”

I set a bowl of stew in front of her. “I’ve
been telling myself that all day but I’m still disappointed. I
really wanted to know more about my donor. I was hoping I might
even get to meet the family, maybe see a picture of him.”

Diana set the letter down. “It sounds like
they don’t want that.”

“I know and I have to respect their privacy.
What I need to do is move on and let it go. Whoever he is, he’s
gone now and I’m sure it’s silly for me to imagine that his spirit
is flying in and out of my bedroom at night to visit his old
heart.”

Diana dipped her spoon into the broth. “I’m
sorry. I’m sure it’s not easy.”

“No, especially when I’ve been doing so much
reading on cellular memory. I was even thinking about contacting
that guy who wrote the book about it—the one Sophie Duncan
mentioned. But what’s the point if I don’t know anything about my
donor?”

“I’m sure it will all become clear
eventually,” Diana said. “Sometimes things happen for a reason and
maybe you’re just not meant to meet that family right now.”

“But why
not
now?” I pressed. “Do you
think I’m not ready for it? And does this mean I should give up?
Because I was considering writing another letter to the family to
tell them about my flying dreams. Who knows, maybe they’re having
the same ones.”

My sister made a face. “I don’t know if that
would be a good idea. If they’re not into that stuff they might
think you’re a nutcase.”

“But I
am
a nut,” I replied with a
smile. “Always will be.”

Just then the telephone rang and Diana
immediately shoved her chair back to stand up. “I’ll get it. It
might be him.”

By “him,” she meant Rick’s brother, while I
couldn’t stop thinking of someone else.

Diana picked up the phone in the kitchen.
“Hello, Diana Moore speaking.”

Her gaze shot to mine and she nodded to let
me know it was
him
. Rick’s brother. My stomach did a
somersault.

“Thanks for returning my call.” Diana walked
into the living room and sat down on the sofa.

I remained with Ellen so as not to be a
distraction—though I strained to listen in as best I could.

Diana explained the situation to Mr.
Fraser.

There was a long pause. Then she spoke
again. “Yes, that’s right. Yes. Uh huh. That would be great.”

Ellen suddenly became chatty and started
wiggling in her chair. I moved to unbuckle her and set her free for
a while so she could toddle around the table.

I heard Diana rise from the sofa. She
returned to the kitchen.

By this time, my heart was racing and I
could barely contain my curiosity. “Was it him?” I asked. “What did
he say?”

Diana set the cordless phone in the charger
and returned to finish her stew. “It was him all right and he was
very surprised to hear what I was calling about.”

“Did he offer to help us?” I asked.

She hesitated. “Not exactly, but I still
want to talk to him some more. He seemed uneasy and a bit
reluctant, but I managed to convince him to meet us.”

I stared at her in shock. “Really?”

“Yes. I thought about inviting him over
here, but I don’t want to give him our home address because we
don’t know anything about him.” She picked up her spoon. “He said
he works most nights and he was just heading out, so I arranged for
us to meet for a late lunch tomorrow.”

I still couldn’t believe it. “He agreed to
that?”

“Yes, and Jacob’s off so I’m going to ask
him to come with us.”

I followed Ellen while she wobbled and then
dropped to crawl around the kitchen table. “This might be weird,” I
said. “Jesse is Ellen’s uncle, you know.”