Page 56 of Before You Can Blink (Rust Canyon #4)
Jett
September
Our entire family and half the town were donning green shirts featuring the Donor for Daisy logo.
When the community discovered Mac’s plans to actively find a live kidney donor for my wife, they were the first to step up and volunteer to get tested.
Since Daisy wasn’t a Rust Canyon local, unfortunately, she lacked the extended family that most folks around these parts boasted, so there hadn’t been a match among them.
But that didn’t mean their support ended when we hit that particular dead end.
Today, we were gathered in Oklahoma City, where we would be canvassing businesses and raising awareness for living organ donation.
Mac had not only secured national press coverage but also organized a meeting with the governor, who would lend his support to our endeavor.
With the spotlight on our search, we became more optimistic than ever that our efforts would result in finding the perfect donor for Daisy .
The highlight of my day wasn’t meeting our state’s highest elected official.
No, it was watching my grandchildren speak to the cameras, telling anyone who would listen how much they loved their grandma and listing all the reasons why.
Honestly, they might as well have been our secret weapon.
Who could resist an adorable kid gushing about how much their grandparent meant to them?
I had no doubt their pleas would convince even more people to get tested to see if they were a match.
The waiting game might still be hell, but at least now we were doing something about it. And I was convinced this was the spark we’d needed all along.
A match was out there somewhere; I could feel it in my bones.
December
The whole family was just sitting down to Christmas Eve dinner at Tripp and Penny’s before we headed to church when Daisy’s cell phone rang in her purse near the entryway.
My wife glanced over her shoulder, a frown pulling the corners of her lips down. “Who in the world could that be?”
Everyone we knew would be doing the same thing as we were at this exact moment—sharing a meal with their loved ones before attending the candlelight service. That realization had me shoving back from the table, heart racing as I hustled across the house to retrieve her phone.
My breath caught in my throat when I saw the name on the Caller ID. There was no hesitation when I answered on Daisy’s behalf. “Dr. Pierce?”
“Hey, Jett.” His tone was jovial. “I sure hope you’re with Daisy because, boy, do I have the Christmas gift for her.”
“Please tell me that means what I think it does. ”
“Just got a call that there’s a kidney that’s a match for Daisy, and we’ve sent someone on the transplant team to retrieve it. We need her to come in right away, so we can get her prepped for surgery.”
My knees nearly buckled. Daisy was getting a new kidney. This nightmare was finally over.
But something he said gave me pause.
“You need her to come in tonight?”
Daisy rose from her seat, moving to where I stood on the phone with her doctor. The minute she was within arm’s reach, I pulled her to my chest, burying my face in her hair and breathing in her scent.
Dr. Pierce explained, “Despite your valiant efforts to find a living donor, the first match we’ve come across for Daisy comes from a deceased donor. Once the kidney has been removed from the donor, we are racing against the clock to get it transplanted into the recipient.”
“Okay.” I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “We’ll be right in.”
“See you soon.” The line went dead.
Peeking up at me, Daisy asked, “What did he say?”
I swallowed thickly. “We’ve got ourselves a Christmas miracle, Daze. There’s a kidney coming this way that’s a match.”
The minute those words left my mouth, our family seated at the table erupted in excited shouts and cheers. We’d been waiting for this moment—this call—for so long that there were times when it felt like it might never come. And now that it had, a tidal wave of relief crashed over us.
Daisy’s thumbs stroked over my cheeks. “It’s all going to be okay, baby.”
Confused, I stared down at her. “Huh?”
A smile tipped up on her lips, and when she removed her hand from my face, it came away wet. “You’re leaking.”
Immediately, I moved to cover the proof of my weak moment, but Daisy caught my wrists, halting me .
As tears shone in her own eyes, she whispered, “You don’t need to hide from me. I know this has been hard.”
Pressing my forehead to hers, I dragged in a shaky breath. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”
“Well, you can put those thoughts away now.” Her lips brushed mine.
I hummed, keeping to myself that there were risks associated with the transplant surgery, and beyond that, there was a chance her body could reject the organ and we’d be back to square one. We didn’t need that negative energy surrounding us tonight.
“So, what’re we doing? Packing everyone up?” Mac’s voice broke through our little bubble.
When we broke apart, Daisy was quick to shut Mac down. “The hospital is no place for the children, and tomorrow is Christmas, so you’re all going to stay here.”
Tripp began to protest, “Mama—”
“No,” she cut him off with a sharp shake of her head. “I won’t hear a single argument.”
Our son’s shoulders sagged as he accepted that her word was final.
“Now.” My wife clapped her hands, drawing the attention of the six little ones. “I’m gonna need the biggest hugs before I go. Make them so tight I can still feel them the whole way to Enid.”
It was nearly a stampede as our grandchildren rushed to embrace her.
After their group hug, Daisy gave each one of them a moment of personal attention, making promises of what they would do together after her recovery and reminding them that, for a little while, they’d have to connect via video chat once she returned home due to the anti-rejection meds suppressing her immune system.
Once they dispersed, Aspen approached her mama for a proper goodbye .
Daisy cupped our daughter’s cheeks. “I love you with my whole heart, sweet girl.” Tears crested over Aspen’s lashes as she returned the sentiment. “Take lots of pictures of those happy kids tomorrow morning and remember that I’m missing this Christmas so I can hopefully have a dozen more.”
They clung to each other so tightly, I worried I’d have to peel Aspen away to get Daisy out the door. Already, I was getting antsy that this was taking too long.
“Daze, we’ve gotta go,” I gently urged her.
Dabbing at the corner of her eyes, she nodded. “I know. Just one more.” Holding out her hand, she called to our son, “Tripp, honey, come here.”
At nearly forty, he still had the biggest soft spot for his mama, and I could see the toll that being asked to stay behind was taking on him. There was an anguish written across his face, like obeying her command physically pained him.
Once he was close enough, Daisy grasped his hands.
“You’re gonna lean on Penny, you hear?” Tripp’s eyes slammed shut, and he nodded his agreement.
“Let her be your comfort, your safe space.” Pausing, she gazed up at our boy, who had grown so tall that doing so forced her to crane her neck.
“I know they tease you about it all the time, but you are my baby. You hold a special piece of my heart that no one else can ever touch.”
Tripp buried his face in his mother’s neck, openly weeping.
He wasn’t like me; he wore his heart on his sleeve.
There were times when I envied how open he was with his emotions.
Bottling them up and burying them deep had done me more harm than good, but I’d been doing it so long that I didn’t know how to stop.
Chalk it up to an old dog being unable to learn new tricks.
Penny gently eased her husband away from Daisy, pulling him into her arms as he continued to fall apart .
Taking my hand, Daisy turned to our family to offer a final farewell. “Merry Christmas, my loves.”
And with that, we headed out the door. It was time for Daisy to get her life back.
It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the night; as soon as I saw Dr. Pierce walk through the sliding glass doors into the surgical waiting room, I was on my feet, my heart in my throat.
The doctor removed his surgical cap before he fixed me with a giant smile. “Everything went perfectly.”
All the air rushed from my lungs, and I placed a hand to my chest as I breathed out, “Thank God.”
“We’ll keep a close eye on her for a few days, make sure the function of the new kidney is good and her body’s not showing any signs of rejection, but I’m optimistic she’ll be home by New Year’s.”
I reached out to shake his hand. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for Daisy.”
“My pleasure. It’s been a long time coming.”
I huffed out a wry laugh. “Too long.”
“She’s in post-op now, but if you can wait here a little while longer, I’ll instruct a nurse to bring you back once they’ve moved her to the ICU.”
I almost snorted because while some folks took up bingo in retirement, I’d taken up waiting in hospitals. I was practically a professional at this point .
But nothing could bring me down tonight because finally—fucking finally—there was a light at the end of the tunnel.
Daisy was going to be okay.