Written By Fate (19 page)

Face Off

The walk across the hospital is torturous. I haven’t seen
Charlie Hollingsworth in ten years. I haven’t seen him since that night. I was
supposed to see him that famous morning for brunch with Daniel but conveniently
had fallen down the stairs. Memories of the charity event, his offer to escort
me to the ladies room, and subsequently what had gone down, flash through my
mind. The man doesn't need two kidneys but I really don't want Allie to have
anything more than she already does from him. Dr. Brandt’s door is in view and
closed. I walk right up to the handle with every intention of turning the knob
and barging in but I can't seem to move from my spot. I can hear Dom’s voice
chattering just on the other side of the door along with some other muffled
voices. I reach out and touch the knob. It actually feels like it’s scorching a
hole through my palm. I pull my hand back feeling injured and wonder what the
fuck I’m supposed to do. My breathing is more like shallow gasps as I try to
muster my non-existent courage. The voices behind the door start to escalate,
startling me. It’s the push I need to move. I turn the handle and push through
the door. Three heads whip around to face me but I only see one and it
terrifies me.

“Jade,” he bellows. Dom growls next to him and Dr. Brandt
just stares dumbfounded at us.

“Charlie,” I croak. Dom and Charlie stand at the same time
but Charlie makes it to me first. He looks so much older than I remember him.

“I’m curious. How much is Allie’s life worth to you?” he
sneers.

“Wh...what?” I let out on a broken whisper.

“Enough, Charlie,” Dom’s voice is thick with disgust and
firm.

“No. She deserves to know, don’t you think?” Charlie whips
out at Dom. “Jade, I understand you’ve found yourself a new bank account to
live off, but I won’t be blackmailed. If Dom tanks the hotels stocks, so be it.
I will happily get tested to see if I’m a match but there will be new rules,”
he says, taking a step closer to me. “You will pay me...and my publicist will
take the opportunity to run a heart-warming story on how I donated a kidney to
a child in need.”

“But... she’s your daughter,” I crow. “I don’t want anything
from you, I never have. Why can't you just do this? I never told a soul! I
never bothered your family! I disappeared for Christ’s sake!” I wail at him.

“You humiliated my son in ways he never recovered from. You
disgraced my family, Jade.” His tone is serious and dark.

“You... you raped me,” I stutter out. Dom moves to my side
as my hands ball into fists at my sides. Years of repressed anger and rage
bubble to the surface. “YOU RAPED ME! I hate you! FUCK Daniel. He’s a sniveling
idiot, that's exactly why I left! I couldn't bear bringing a child into your
family knowing it would turn out like the rest of you! She’s amazing. She’s
part of you and she’s amazing.” My voice cracks and tears stream down my face.
“You will get tested. If you are a match you will donate your fucking kidney,
and here’s why Charlie... because if you don’t, I will give your publicist the
story of a lifetime. Rape, son who beats his women, you demanding payment for
your kidney...one that’s for your bastard daughter!” I am so sick of living
like this. Of worrying who knows what and who I can be with. I let all of the
verbal diarrhea flow out until I’m toe to toe with him and Dom’s pulling me by
the waist backwards. Charlie’s wide-eyed and staring at me. I’m not who I was
back then. I’m not afraid of him anymore, nor do I care to impress him or
conform to his family’s expectations. I am not Jade McQueen. I’m held tightly
against Dom and I can feel his ribs shaking slightly. That fucker is laughing
at me!

“Clara, I think you made your point,” Dom says trying to
steady his voice. “Charlie, I suggest you get started now with your match
testing. Clara is a woman of her word and will probably set out to ruin your
life if you don’t do this...and if she says to, I’m likely to tank the hotels
just to add insult to injury,” he says gruffly. Charlie stands, quietly
absorbing the situation at hand, while I try desperately to breathe instead of
puff air. The tension in the room is so thick I think it might swallow us up
whole.

“One hundred thousand dollars, if I’m a match, and then you
and I don’t exist to each other. No PR, no contact ever again. I want a written
contract, signed,” Charlie states. I gape at him in disbelief. He can’t be
serious. Did he not just hear anything I said?

“Done. I’ll have my lawyers draw up a contract now. Dr.
Brandt, can we fast track his testing?” Dom speaks as I remain silently gaping
in shock.

“Of course. Senator Hollingsworth, I’ll need you available
for the rest of the week.”

“Fine.” Charlie hands him his card, pushes past me and walks
away.

“Breathe, Clara,” Dom demands. I suck in a sharp breath and
look to him.

“Dom...” I begin, but he cuts me off. “I will have the
contract drawn up, it will be airtight, and I will pay him the money. This
needs to happen if he’s a match. The money’s a drop in the hat for me.”

“I... no... this is crazier than a
Lifetime
movie,” I
shake my head at him.

“It’s already done, Clara, let it go.” He grabs my arm and
leads me back to Allie’s floor. Allie is napping when we get there. Sawyer’s
head shoots up when we enter and confusion and worry instantly riddle his
features. I crawl into the bed with Allie and lay down with her, closing my
eyes. I hear Sawyer stand and the two of them shuffle out of the room to the
hallway leaving just muffled voices filtering through the air as I drift off to
sleep holding my baby.

“Clara, love, wake up,” Sawyer murmurs in my ear. I lazily
open my eyes and meet his beautiful blue eyes.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Come get a coffee with me.” He tugs my wrist and pulls me
from Allie’s bed. She’s still out like a light. As we head to the cafeteria in
silence I can't help but go over the absurdness that took place in Dr. Brandt’s
office earlier. None of it makes sense. It’s not at all how I thought things
would happen and it bothers me. Sawyer gets us each a coffee while I find a
table and try to wipe the sleep and grogginess from my face with my palms.

“Something’s not right,” he states, sitting across from me.

“Huh?”

“Clara, Dom told me everything and it’s not right. It
doesn't add up. Why does he need money? Why would that matter to him? Why
wouldn't he be worried about you telling your story? He knows something we
don't and I’m worried.”

“You know, I thought it was strange the way he didn't really
seem phased by being here, seeing me or any of it I guess. He
seemed...prepared.”

“Dom didn’t seem all that phased, considering the situation
and your feelings about all of it,” Sawyer says.

“What are you getting at?” I ask, slightly irked.

“I don't know, Clara, something just feels off.”

“If she gets the goddamned kidney I don't give a shit. I
disappeared once, and if we have to do it again I can...as long as she's
healthy and with me,” I say a little defensively. Sawyer pinches the bridge of
his nose and lets out a breath.

“Just please listen to your gut and tell me if something's
not right, okay?” he finally says.

“Always, Sawyer. Always.” I reach out and grab his hand.
“I’ve missed you a lot,” I say softly. He retracts his hand from mine.

“Just pay attention, okay?” he repeats before standing and
leaving me alone at the table in the cafeteria. I sit sipping my coffee,
wondering where Dom actually is right now, why Charlie seemed rather nonplussed
by this whole thing, and why Sawyer’s gut and mine both tell us something’s
off. I try to shake off the feeling. It doesn't matter how she gets a kidney, I
remind myself, just that she gets one. After that happens I can figure out the
rest of this mess, but until then...I toss my coffee cup without care into the
trash can and head back up to Allie.

It’s truly amazing what money can make happen. Someone who
would normally wait year after year for all the necessary steps to happen for a
transplant can suddenly be looking at a wait of only a few months. The donor
evaluation is divided into four phases: blood and tissue type matching, initial
screening tests, one-day donor evaluation, and scheduling the donor surgery.
The blood and tissue type matching happens two weeks before surgery: a visit is
scheduled for both the donor and the recipient at the Pre-Operative Evaluation
Center, then a final cross match is be done one week prior to surgery to make
sure the tissue is still compatible. For Charlie, by the third post-operative
day, if there are no problems, he will be able to be discharged from the
hospital and finish recovering at home. Lucky for us, Charlie turned out to be
a match and the surgery is happening tomorrow morning. It’s been the longest
three months of my life since finding out he could donate. True to his word,
Dom provided Charlie’s lawyer with a contract stating that he would donate his
kidney for a hundred thousand dollars, and that after his discharge from the
hospital there would never be any mention of the transplant. Violation of the
contract would result in a financial penalty. It seemed like the most
ridiculous piece of paper in the world to me, but then again, Dom had once
given me a contract meant as an out if I wanted to get rid of him, so maybe
this is just how men like them do things.

Since the surgery was scheduled Dom has been slowly doing
more and more for work and spending less and less time with me. Not that I can
blame him. He has two businesses to run and has taken an enormous amount of
time off already for me. Still, it seems like he’s distancing himself from me.
Sawyer and I decided to close the shop for the month so that we can both be at
the house to take care of Allie during her recovery. I’m dreading having to get
through tonight. Allie of course is a nervous wreck but she gets happy drugs to
knock her out and ensure that she gets the rest she needs. Sawyer and I are
reduced to two anxiety-ridden adults who either need to drink coffee all night
and skip sleep, or attempt to nap together to get at least a little rest. The
only other time we were this amped up with nerves, Allie was almost five and
had a fever of 104 that we couldn't manage to bring down. We didn't know what
was wrong and neither did the doctors at the ER. After a night spent pumping her
full of fluids the fever broke and she was all better. I snort a little at the
memory of Sawyer running around frantically, trying every known fever reducer
Google had to offer.

“What’re you laughing at?” he asks quietly.

“I was just thinking about the last time you and I were this
jacked up, when Allie had that fever.”

“Jesus, that’s right,” he chortles to himself.

“Sawyer,” I call to where he sits.

“Yeah?”

“Come snuggle on the uncomfortable cot with me,” I suggest
hesitantly. He narrows his eyes at me for a long time and I’m sure he’s not
going to come over but he surprises me and does. I snuggle into his side
tightly because the cot is stupidly small and he is not. I like the feel of it.
Sawyer’s always been able to comfort me in ways that others just can't. I’ve
missed his arms. We don’t speak. We don't need to. I know all his worries are
the same as mine and his love for Allie is, too. Old habits die hard,
apparently, because in Sawyer’s arms, with Allie’s steady breathing next to us,
we both manage to fall asleep just after midnight.

Scars

“The scar on my tummy is stinging a little today,” Allie
complains. It is fresh, and it is a little unsightly. It is just over two weeks
ago that she received Charlie’s kidney, and she was discharged from the hospital
one week later. Now at home there is the slow process of getting to know her
new body. After seventy-two hours Allie was delighted to be able to gorge on
orange juice, bacon, pancakes, and eggs. Watching her eat and not worry about
her body being able to filter out all the crappy parts was pure joy.

“Just try to ignore it,” I tell her with a little smile.
There is anxiety about the possibility of rejecting the organ but there is such
joy, not just for me, but for her and all who love her, that she is safe and
sound now. Dominic has gone back to work mostly full time now but there is a
strange distance between us and I can’t figure out why. When he does come over
or we go out he’s moody and bitchy. I know I have a lot on my plate and maybe
he is just feeling left out or something but seriously he needs to pull his
head out of his vagina and deal. Allie comes first. He knows that. He kind of fought
for that. He baffles me. For the most part Sawyer and I are back to our shifts
at Bloodlines so that someone’s always at the shop and always home with Allie.
Things between us are easy for the moment because our focus is the same:
Allie’s recovery.

Dom: Won’t be back till weds

OK. everything alright?

Dom: Yes

Miss you

I sigh and set the phone aside. Sawyer briefly narrows his
eyes at me but says nothing. After a long, ridiculously hot shower, and trying
to scrub away the bad feeling I have in the pit of my stomach about Dom, I
settle onto the couch next to Sawyer and Allie to watch mind-numbing cable for
a while. At midnight Sawyer gently wakes me as he carries me to my bed. “You
fell asleep on the couch. Allie’s sleeping. I’m going home,” he whispers to me
as he pulls the covers up over me.

“Okay. Sorry,” I mumble sleepily. He smiles sweetly at me
before shaking his head and leaving. I hear the click of the door as it closes
and drift back to sleep where better days with Dom haunt my dreams.

“Allie, you have to go to school today,” I say sternly.

“I’m not ready!” she crows.

“You are,” I stand firm.

“Mooooom!”

“Don’t. It’s time,” I cut her temper tantrum off at the
knees.

There were two slight rejections during the first few
months, but they were easily treated and she slowly regained all her normal
abilities.

“Listen to your mom, Allie,” Dom clips at her. It makes my
temper flare when he talks to her like that but I keep my mouth clamped shut.

“You’re not my dad,” she whips back at him with ice in her
voice.

“Enough! Both of you!” I shout, breaking their stare-down.
“Allie, school! Sawyer’s outside waiting to drop you off. GO!”

She hangs her head and stomps out the door. I turn to Dom
feeling prickly. “She’s sensitive. You don’t need to egg her on,” I tell him as
calmly as possible.

“You let her walk all over you since the transplant.”

“I do not.”

“You do, Clara. She’s fine. She’s NOT dying. It’s time to
stop treating her like she’s breakable,” he admonishes while glaring at me.
What crawled up his ass and died?

“You know what? You don’t have children. You don't know what
it’s like to feel helpless over something you love so much it could break you.
You don’t get it! I’m her mom. I will parent her however the hell I want! YOU
DON’T HAVE A SAY!”

“I don't?! We’re together, Clara. We have been for the
better part of a year now! Sawyer gets a say but I don't?!” he roars at me,
frustrated.

“Sawyer practically raised her! Of course he gets a say!” I
yell in frustration.

“How dare you...he’s no more her father than I am or am
willing to be!”

This puts me on defense. He’s right, but he’s wrong, and I
don’t know how to combat his statement.

“I’ve already dared...to say...what I did!” My words are
lame and falter as they leak from my mouth. His lips twitch slightly. I know my
retort sounded completely moronic. His shoulders start to shake as he tries to
not laugh at me. Finally it becomes too much.

“I’ve already dared....to say... what I did!” he shouts with
a deep belly laugh before doubling over, still laughing at me.

“You know what... just...shut your hole!” I snap and storm
out of the kitchen. I hate being laughed at. Okay. I hate sounding dumb and
that’s exactly what I sounded like. He follows me to the living room, not
laughing now.

“You’re just so damned adorable when you’re that pissed,” he
says quietly behind me. My hair is brushed off my neck and over one shoulder as
he places a light kiss just below my ear. It makes me shiver. He places another
one on my shoulder and slowly turns me to him.

“I’m sorry we’ve been bickering lately,” he apologizes,
running a hand through his hair.

“Me too. Why are you so distant?” I ask hesitantly. I’m
really just not good at this relationship crap. It’s so much easier not having
to worry about other people’s feelings.

“Charlie,” he states.

“Care to explain that?” I ask, completely baffled.

“Not really. It’s not true and it just messed with my head,”
he says cryptically.

“Ahh...” I trail off, unsure where to go with this.

“Let’s just go back to us. I’ve missed you. Allie is doing
great. Sawyer can go back to living at his apartment and we...well, right now,
I think we should go back to bed,” he finishes and trails a finger from my neck
down to my belly. I can’t help it. His touch is like crack and reduces me to a
melted pool of lust at his feet. I push up on my toes and yank his face down to
mine.

“Kiss me,” I breathe into his mouth. He doesn't waste any
time. His lips crash into mine as he scoops me up into his arms and moves us to
the bedroom. I miss this. I miss us existing together easily. It’s a natural
feeling. I revel in his touch and let him make me forget all the little warning
bells I’ve been hearing lately about him.