Sierra shook her head trying to contain her emotions. She whispered, “No.” Through the phone, she suddenly heard a car door close and then the jingling of keys.
“Hold on a second, I’m just heading into my home.” Her sponsor advised.
She rocked from side to side to keep from stiffening up; she’d now been standing since the storm started. There was dead air for a second or two from the other side of the line before “We can talk about anything you want to, just stay on the phone with me.”
“I wasn’t planning on hanging up. And thank you for calling me.” She gave a weak smile even though the person on the other end couldn’t see it.
“Anytime that is what I am here for and not just because I’m your sponsor.” A crackling sound came over the line and she waited for it to clear before responding.
“I know and I am grateful.” Tears tracked slowly down her cheeks, and she wiped them away.
After Pat had passed away, Sierra’s human contact had gone from three to two and having them in her life after everyone else had left was what kept her from going insane. Pat and her psychiatrist had encouraged her to keep a journal, so she’d started journaling, but then to her surprise a talent emerged that kept her mind busy as the days flew by.
“How is your work coming along?”
“It is a pain in the ass, I am having brain freeze.” She shuffled into the kitchen and turned the kettle back on before sitting down.
“Ah man, seriously, and from the racket going on outside, no wonder you are having trouble concentrating. Storms give me the heebie jeebies.” She smiled because she could just picture Mik shuddering.
“I like them, I find them soothing.”
“You would.” Mik snorted.
“No date tonight?” She straightened out her legs, then pointed her toes and flexed them back, stretching her calf muscles.
“No, so I am here for you to talk to for the rest of the night if need be.”
This was going to be a long night, but her AA sponsor Mik was there for her.
Chapter 4
Jacob beheld his daughter as she slept. Her hair was set in two cornrow braids, but the curls were escaping to stick to her forehead and cheeks. With a finger, he gently moved a soft curl off her cheek and pressed it between his thumb and finger, loving the soft but coarse feel of her hair. The color a blend of his and her mother’s. She had her mother’s button nose with freckles across the bridge and on her cheeks. Her eyelids were closed, but he could picture those dark brown eyes staring back at him with so much love as he read her favorite story before she drifted off in a tired sleep.
She was his world, and he was so proud of his little girl; she had been a trooper all week with her outpatient round of chemo and blood tests starting. He had left her with the nurse while he visited Dr. Kimberly Hayes to find out what the results of the latest blood test were and if she had any success finding a donor match. The heavy pit in his stomach had warned he wouldn’t like the news, and he did not.
Dr. Hayes had looked at him with scrunched brows as she stood near a small table, tapping her pen, a habit he’d noticed after a few visits. Maybe to calm her nerves. Kimberly Hayes wasn’t only the top surgeon in her field; she also had a lot of energy and spoke fast. Her figure as a plus-sized woman didn’t reflect how she would easily stride through the hospital as though it were a race. The only time she slowed down was when she was with her patients. She took time and care with the young lives in her hands.
The only bedside manner he could find fault with was she was blunt and shot from the hip. Jacob knew this had gotten her into trouble more than once in her career.
He sat across from her in one of those infamous tight hospital chairs, meeting her in one of the private rooms near the treatment spaces for chemo patients. She greeted him with a smile, her red-painted lips the only color on her dark face. Setting her pen down, Dr. Hayes picked up a chocolate bar on her desk. She glanced at him, and he nodded; she tore the wrapper off and bit down into the first square.
For some reason, his brother Dyson flashed into his mind and wondered if his younger brother would have a fit and take her to task for her unhealthy habit of having a sweet tooth. Bryson thought sugar was the harborer of all ailments in this world and if people would stop eating sugar, they would have less inflammation in their bodies.
She had been introduced to all his family members except Dyson and his grandfather. Dyson was a personal trainer and had high-end clientele he worked with; he’d been busy when his brothers had all come in together and had shown up later. Dr. Hayes had gone home for the day.
“Sorry, I didn’t have time for lunch and just grabbed some sugar while I got the reports back.”
He waited while she finished her chocolate, and it was done within three bites. He didn’t even know if she took in air when she did that. Always in a hurry.
She picked up the nearby paper. He sat forward, hope in his heart over the results. He and his brothers had come in to be tested; he’d even reached out to his father asking if he could also provide a sample and found out that his dad was already in the registry. When her brown eyes met his, he knew.
“I’m sorry, Jacob. These results show that none of your family members, including you, are a perfect match. You are close but there are specific markers we need for this to besuccessful and for her body to not reject the new blood cells. No one in the registry is close but I can continue looking, but time is of the essence here. I know you and your wife are estranged but we will need to test her now.”
“Ex wife, I—”
The loud chime of her phone cut him off.
She searched her pockets and stood up. “Give me one second.”
