The frenetic activity of the hospital slowed as evening settled in. Amanda continued to sit unmoving by Jared’s bedside. Feeling dazed, she noticed the rotation of nurses, unable to remember their names as soon as they left the room. Amanda begged God
over and over to save her son’s life, in the same way she’d once begged God to save Bea.
This time, she could only hope God would listen.
Sometime after midnight, Dr. Mills stepped into the room.
“You should go home and get some rest,” he said. “I’ll call you if I hear anything at all. I promise.”
Amanda refused to release Jared’s hand, raising her chin in stubborn defiance.
“I won’t leave him.”
It was nearly three in the morning when Dr. Mills returned to the ICU. By then, Amanda was too exhausted to rise.
“There’s news,” he said.
She turned toward him, suddenly sure that he was going to tell her their last best hope had been exhausted.
This is it,
she thought, feeling numb.
This is the end.
Instead, she saw something akin to hope in his expression.
“We found a match,” he said. “A one-in-a-million shot that somehow came through.”
Amanda felt adrenaline surge through her limbs, every nerve awakening as she tried to grasp his full meaning. “A match?”
“A donor heart. It’s being transported to the hospital right now, and the surgery has already been scheduled. The team is being assembled as we speak.”
“Does that mean Jared is going to live?” Amanda asked, her voice hoarse.
“That’s the plan,” he said, and for the first time since she’d been in the hospital, Amanda began to cry.
A
t Dr. Mills’s urging, Amanda finally went home. She’d been told that Jared would be taken into pre-op, where he would be readied for the procedure, and she wouldn’t be able to spend time with him. After that, the actual surgery would take anywhere from four to six hours, depending on whether there were complications.
“No,” Dr. Mills said, even before she had a chance to ask. “There’s no reason to expect any complications.”
Despite her lingering anger, she’d called Frank after getting the news and before she left the hospital. Like her, he hadn’t been sleeping, and while she’d expected to hear the slurring she’d grown used to, he was sober when she reached him. His relief about Jared was obvious, and he thanked her for calling him.
She didn’t see Frank once she arrived home, and she suspected that since her mother was in the guest room, Frank was sleeping on the couch in the den. Though exhausted, what she really needed was a shower, and she spent a long time standing beneath the luxurious flow of water before finally crawling into bed.
Sunrise was still an hour or two away, and as Amanda closed her eyes she told herself she wasn’t going to sleep long, just a quick catnap before heading back to the hospital.
Her dreamless sleep lasted for six hours.
Her mother was holding a cup of coffee when Amanda came rushing down the hall, frantic to get to the hospital and struggling to remember where she’d left her keys.
“I called just a few minutes ago,” Evelyn said. “Lynn said they hadn’t heard anything at all, aside from the fact that Jared was in surgery.”
“I still have to go,” Amanda mumbled.
“Of course you do. But not until you have a cup of coffee.” Evelyn held out the cup. “I made this for you.”
Amanda pawed through the piles of junk mail and odds and ends on the counters, still searching for her keys. “I don’t have time…”
“It’ll take five or ten minutes to drink,” her mother said, in a voice that brooked no protest. She put the steaming cup in Amanda’s hand. “It won’t change anything. Once you get to the hospital, we both know that all you’re going to do is wait. The only thing that will matter to Jared is whether you’re there when he wakes up, and that’s not going to happen for several hours. So take a few minutes before you rush out of here.” Her mother sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and pointed to the seat next to her. “Have a cup of coffee and something to eat.”
“I can’t have breakfast while my son is in surgery!” she argued.
“I know you’re worried,” Evelyn said, her voice surprisingly gentle. “I’m worried, too. But as your mother, I also worry about you, because I know how much the rest of the family depends on you. We both know that you function much better after you’ve eaten and had a cup of coffee.”
Amanda hesitated then raised the cup to her lips. It
did
taste good.
“You really think it’s okay?” She gave an uncertain frown as she took a seat next to her mother at the kitchen table.
“Of course. You have a long day ahead of you. Jared is going to need you to be strong when he sees you.”
Amanda clutched the cup. “I’m scared,” she admitted.
To Amanda’s astonishment, her mother reached out and covered her hands with her own. “I know. I am, too.”
Amanda stared at her hands, still laced around the coffee cup, surrounded and supported by her mother’s tiny manicured ones. “Thanks for coming.”
Evelyn allowed herself a small smile. “It’s not like I had a choice,” she said. “You’re my daughter, and you needed me.”
Together, Amanda and her mother drove to the hospital, meeting up with the rest of the family in the waiting room. Annette and Lynn ran to give her a hug, burying their faces in her neck. Frank merely nodded and mumbled a greeting. Her mother, instantly sensing the tension between them, whisked the girls off to an early lunch.
When Amanda and Frank were alone, he turned to her.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “For everything.”
Amanda looked at him. “I know you are.”
“I know it should be me in there, instead of Jared.”
Amanda said nothing.
“I can leave you alone if you want,” he said into the silence. “I can find someplace else to sit.”
Amanda sighed before shaking her head. “It’s fine. He’s your son. You belong here.”
Frank swallowed. “I’ve stopped drinking, if that means anything. Really, this time. For good.”
Amanda waved to cut him off. “Just… don’t, okay? I don’t want to get into this now. This isn’t the time or place, and all it’s going to do is make me angrier than I already am. I’ve heard it all before, and I can’t deal with this on top of everything else right now.”
Frank nodded. Turning around, he went back to his seat. Amanda sat in a chair along the opposite wall. Neither of them said another word until Evelyn returned with the kids.
A little after noon, Dr. Mills entered the waiting room. Everyone stood. Amanda searched his face, expecting the worst, but her fears were allayed almost immediately by his air of exhausted satisfaction. “The surgery went well,” he began, before walking them through the steps of the procedure.
When he’d finished, Annette tugged at his sleeve. “Jared is going to be okay?”
“Yes,” the doctor answered with a smile. He reached down to touch her head. “Your brother is going to be fine.”
“When can we see him?” Amanda asked.
“He’s in recovery right now, but maybe in a few hours.”
“Will he be awake then?”
“Yes,” Dr. Mills answered. “He’ll be awake.”