The Donor (10 page)

Jonah was sitting next to me in an instant and I hadn't seen him move. I gulped down my impending sob, letting it scrape its way down my throat and into my stomach, where it caused a sharp, hollow, hole.

He placed an arm around me, like he was protecting me from the words he had already said, and I let the papers and the folder fall from my hands and onto the shiny floor. He smoothed his hand up my shoulder, neck, and then my head, leaning it against his chest. Resting his chin on top of my head, he smelled like a cross between clean laundry and a fireplace in the middle of winter.

“Since I met you,” he said into my hair. Then, again, only this time it sounded like it was to himself, “Since I met you.”

I took a deep breath, not wanting to look around the room that reminded me of hospitals and not knowing what to say to this man who I had given up everything for, who I had hoped would change things but had only complicated them.

“Can…” I had to take a deep breath before I finished. “Can we go upstairs, please?”

He wrapped an arm around me and led me back up the stairs, leaving the papers on the floor. Once we were in the warm den, he closed the hatch to the cellar and repositioned the rug over it. I sat down on the sofa and he joined me. It was very, very quiet.

“I just didn't think it was right if I was lying to you,” he said after a long time.

Jonah rubbed my back with his open palm and I relaxed a little. I liked being close to him, despite everything I had just learned.

“She's my age,” I said, leaning back so I could look at him. “She would need my lungs?”

Jonah nodded once, but was quick to add on, “It's completely up to you.” Then, his muscles tightening, he said, “Or I could turn you.”

I scooted away a little more, staring him in the eye. “I told you,” I said. “I didn't come here for that.”

He clasped my hand in his. “What did you come here for, Casey?”

I couldn't look away from him. I couldn't not answer him either. “To be with you,” I said. “To mean something, to help my family.”

He kissed my hand slowly, like he was kissing my mouth. “I understand if you want to leave, knowing what you know.”

I nodded.

“I don't expect anything from you,” he said.

“Except my blood,” I said. “For your
client
.”

Jonah placed my hand back on the couch between us, but he didn't let go of it completely. “Not if you don't want to.”

“Then what's the purpose of my being here?” I asked.

A small smile, without happiness, touched the corner of his mouth. “For me,” he said.

Then he kissed me.

***

The plane lands too soon, which is what I was expecting. I follow Jonah the farthest I can, and we stop outside his gate. He’s taking a layover to his next destination, but he’s told me more than a hundred times that he won’t be gone long. I hug him goodbye too tightly, not wanting to let go.

“Text me when you land,” he says into my hair.

I nod.

“I’ll meet up with you in a few days, alright?”

I swallow a sob and smile up at him as he kisses me.

And I watch him board his plane before turning to retrieve my luggage.

It’s already warmer here than back in Boston and I haven't even set foot outside yet. I wade through the people waiting by the conveyor belt and watch as my worn out suitcase tumbles down the line. I wheel it to the exit, where I wait impatiently for my parents to pull up.

My phone buzzes in my pocket.

Jonah Black:
I miss you already. We'll see each other soon.

Casey Williams:
I know.

I don't know what to say.

I take the opportunity to check the other messages I had refused to look at. Mom had texted me approximately ten times, telling me she woke up late, she was on her way, she was a little late, then that she would meet me outside at seven.

It’s seven-thirty.

Soon, our beat up van pulls up to the curb and Mom’s rolling down the window. She’s put blond highlights in her hair since the last time I saw her—they’re uneven and no doubt from a cheap over the counter bottle she bought at the drugstore, but it makes her look brighter, happier. Maybe she and Dad enjoyed the time alone.

“Get in, sweetie!” she calls.

I hustle over to the passenger side and throw my bag in the back. Some pop station is on low on the radio and Mom lowers it even more when I sit down and close the door. She brings me in for a huge hug, one that knocks the wind from my lungs.

A car honks behind us, breaking the embrace and forcing Mom to put the car back into drive. “So,” she says as she pulls away from the curb. “How was your trip?”

“Good,” I say vaguely.

She raises an eyebrow and I shrug off my coat, already sweating in the heat despite the cool air in the car. “That's it?”

I take a breath. “I'll wait till we're with Dad so I don't have to explain it all twice,” I try to say with a smile in my voice.

“Alright, sweetie,” Mom says. “Are you hungry? They don't feed people on flights anymore, I hear.”

“I'm fine,” I say. I just want to get home and get the hard part over with. I don't want to prolong it any more.

Mom glances in my direction. “You look like you lost weight,” she says. “The food not good in Boston?”

I shrug. “I walked around a lot,” I say, unable to keep the lie from slipping out of my mouth.

“Well, I'm going to take you out,” she says. “Dad's sleeping anyway so he won't mind. How's Friendly’s sound?"

I’m about to protest, but I can't find it in me. How many more chances do I have to be with my Mom and just hang out? I nod and she turns off on the exit.

***

There was a stillness in the air, like when you’re just waking up and watching morning light flood in through your bedroom window, dust motes circling on an invisible wind. It was like that. Only my heart was pumping overtime, my head was swimming, and I was finding it very, very hard to breathe.

Jonah moved away from me. First his lips left mine, he pulled his head away, and then we weren’t touching at all.

I reached for his hand and he curled his knuckles into a fist; he wouldn’t look at me but I could see the expression on his face. He was clenching his jaw, staring at the carpet in front of us, covering up the thing he had been hiding from me the entire time.

“I thought her body could reject it,” I said suddenly. “I thought you said the risks were really high…if she were to get new lungs.”

Jonah stared at the floor before he gathered himself and spoke. “She could die from this operation,” he said. “She could die weeks, months, a year later, if her body rejects the transplant.” He shook his head like it would get rid of the thoughts. “But there’s a chance she could live. I can’t just sit still and not help her.” He took a breath. “I have to try.”

This was all Jonah had. Dying seahorses, a dying daughter, and me.

I swallowed. “I’m not going to live forever,” I whispered. “Not even close.” And it was like I was admitting it for the first time, even though I had always known, deep down, that it was true.

Jonah looked at me and blinked a few times.

“You brought me here for her,” I repeated. “For your daughter that’s dying.”

He opened his mouth, possibly to protest, but he shut it and then nodded. “I’m sorry.”

I shrugged, not knowing what else to do.

“I don’t know how much it’s worth,” he said slowly. “But I really do like you. Once I met you, I almost wished you weren’t a match for her. I almost wished…”

“That I wasn’t dying.” I didn’t know what made me think he was trying to say that, but I finished his sentence anyway.

He nodded.

I kicked off my boots, curled my knees up to my chest so that I was completely on the couch, and turned toward him. “How would this be different?” I asked. “If I wasn’t dying?”

“Casey,” Jonah said, trying to add warning to his tone, but failing miserably. He sounded unbearably tired.

“No,” I said gently, not wanting to sound like I was trying to fight with him because in all honesty, I wasn’t. I only wanted to know. “Please tell me.” I moved closer and he didn’t try to back away this time. “If I wasn’t sick, what would we do?”

Jonah smiled to himself, but it was a cross between happy and sad, like it could tip in one direction or another at any minute. “For starters,” he said, relaxing a little bit. “I wouldn’t have had to bring you out here.”

I rested my head on my knees. “Go on.”

“I wouldn’t be selling your blood,” he said. “I would be taking you out.” Now the smile he gave me was genuine. “On dates.”

I smiled too. “Where would we go?”

Jonah stared at the ceiling for a moment, like he was thinking about it, but I somehow didn’t believe that he had to at all. “I’d take you to a nice restaurant. Do you like Italian?”

I nodded.

“Then…I’d make you dinner,” he decided. “And I’d take you to our tiny aquarium and you could tell me how much better they are where you live.”

I laughed a little. “Then what?”

He looked at me for the first time in a while. “I would kiss you good night.”

A warm fluttering feeling filled my lungs, like a million moths drawn to a flame. “That sounds really nice,” I said.

Jonah took my hand again. “I’ll take you back,” he said, and he began to stand.

I pushed him gently on the shoulder. He looked at me, confused, but he sat back down.

“I like it here,” I said, looking around at the wooden walls, the worn arm of the sofa, how different everything was from the cold, plain house I had been living in with him.

“We used to come here,” he said. “Myra and I. After my wife and I divorced.”

“It’s nice,” I offered.

His thumb stroked the edge of mine. “I would take her fishing by the lake out back. In the summer.” He smiled to himself. “She never wanted to throw them back, she wanted to keep everything we caught as a pet.”

I laughed at his story, despite how sad the circumstances were. This was once a place for father and daughter, now it was a place that had been untouched, probably since the last time she was here. It was like we were sitting in her grave and she wasn’t even dead yet.

Jonah looked me in the eye. “I wish…”

He had trailed off, but I didn’t give him a chance to finish. I kissed him hard on the mouth, like I could breathe life back into his still lungs, make his heart beat once more. “I’ll help you,” I whispered.

***

Our food comes not long after we order it. Mom digs into her salad while I pick the sesame seeds off of the bun of my hamburger.

“So you have to tell me
something
about your trip,” Mom says. “Come on, any schools you're interested in?”

I look up from my plate and smile. “Kind of,” I say. “I'm not sure if I'm going to go anymore, though.”

Mom's face falls. “What do you mean? You were so set on going to college.”

I tear my sandwich in half and take a bite even though the smell of ketchup makes my stomach turn. “I know,” I say, chewing for longer than I have to before continuing. “I just think I want to stay closer to home for a while, you know?”

Mom smiles knowingly. “You missed us that much, huh?”

Without warning, my throat becomes tight. “Yeah,” I say, somehow managing to not cry.

The rest of the meal is pretty smooth. We talk about how Dad was driving her crazy and how work went for Mom while I was in Boston. I remember to text Jonah as our check arrives.

Me:
Hey, landed a little while ago.

Jonah:
Good. My flight was delayed an hour.

Jonah:
It’ll be okay

And I knew he was saying it for the both of us.

“Who are you talking to?” Mom asks as the waitress takes her credit card. “Don't tell me you met a boy out there.”

I can't keep the smile from my face.

“Oh my goodness!” Mom practically squeals. “Tell me all about him.”

I take a deep breath. “I will, Mom,” I say. “As soon as we're home.”

She sighs dramatically. “Okay,” she says in surrender. “I'm going to go to the bathroom.”

Mom excuses herself and I watch her walk off. The waitress comes back with her card and I thank her. My phone buzzes in my pocket.

Jonah:
Are you with your parents yet?

I feel stupid for not telling him sooner.

Me:
Yes.

Me:
Well, my Mom.

Me:
She wants to know who I'm texting.