“Oh my god, Chris. What are you doing looking for Wanda?”
“Wait, what proof do we have that this isthatChristopher Evans?” Brandon asked.
“I’ll willingly give you a DNA sample or fingerprints. They’re on file with NYPD because of my job. Should only take a matter of seconds.”
“Okay, follow us down to the station,” Brandon said, and threw some money on the table. “Doug, ride with him.” His tone and attitude brooked no argument.
Doug frowned, but did as he was told. He was only a Deputy anyway. But in minutes they were at the station. Christopher’s prints were run, and thirty minutes later they came back, and his picture matched what was on file.
“Okay, we’re good,” Brandon said, and pointed to a chair in his office across from his desk. “Now talk.”
“Can I get something from my car?”
“I’ll go with him,” Doug said, and they were back shortly. Once settled in Christopher began. “Almost eight weeks ago, I was engaged. We went to the courthouse and filed for a marriage license. Imagine my surprise when the clerk entered my information, and it came back. I was already married.”
“What, you don’t remember a wild night in Vegas?” Brandon scoffed. And watched as Evans pulled a paper from his pocket.
“No, this is what they printed off and handed me. Said it was in the system, so it was legal. Also said I had to get a lawyer and find my ‘wife’ and get a divorce or an annulment. I thought I’d been told years ago that Wanda died.”
“She almost did, three times as a matter of fact, but she pulled through each time,” Douglas said, and held out his hand for the paper. “What the hell, you werechildren.” He stared at Christopher in shock, then turned to his brother-in-law. “Remember Easter Sunday? Mom joked that it was Wanda’s twentieth wedding anniversary. This is the groom.”
Christopher had pulled the photos and started passing them around. “God, I forgot how sick she was,” Doug said as he ran his finger over a part of the photo. He passed them, and Brian asked.
“What’s wrong with the little girl?”
“That’s your Aunt Wanda. When she was three and had Leukemia. She almost died twice then.”
“But I thought she was fifteen when she had that kidney transplant.”
“She was.”
“Excuse me?” Christopher demanded.
“After you left.” Doug paused and raised his brow at Christopher waiting for an explanation.
“The military transferred Dad to Japan, Mom and I went with him. We spent the next four years there. I don’t know if you remember, but he was in the military. He retired three years ago, and they settled in Chicago, where he was from originally.” He paused then rubbed his face. “I stopped by the old neighborhood in California, the house I grew up in is now a vacant lot. Your old house had new tenants, but they’d only lived there for twelve years. I was going to the courthouse to see if they could give me any information when I stopped at the church.”
“I learned that Pastor Jones, and I only remember his name because Mom wrote it down, but Pastor Jones died three years ago. Someone working on the grounds called his grandmother and took me to see her. Found out she played the organ at the church, she rememberedthe wedding, said she played at it. She showed me an article that was in the local newspaper.” He pulled that from the box and handed it over. “She also said that a National newspaper picked up the story and a huge influx of people came forward to see if they were a bone marrow match.”
“They did. Wanda was worse than she was at the wedding, but you had been gone only a couple of days when a match came in. She was given the bone marrow and started getting better. But because she had been sick for so long, she had to stay in the hospital for another eight months. When she was finally cleared to come home, it had gone into remission.
“Dad worked in Silicon Valley, all that technology stuff. When Wanda continued to be in remission, he took a considerable buy out and moved us here to Oregon. Said he wanted to be away from the hustle and bustle. Wanda thrived. She went from a little girl who could barely lift her head off the pillow to a vibrant, radiant child who grew up into a beautiful woman.
“However, she started getting sick when she turned thirteen. We all thought the Leukemia was back or some form of cancer. Dad wouldn’t let the doctors blow them off again, he demanded answers. It took a while, but one of the side effects of the drugs she’d been given was kidney failure. It was in the fine print. That’s what the sickness was. She was admitted, put on dialysis, and put on a donor list. It took another eighteen months to get a donor.
“She had the operation, and it was a miracle her body didn’t reject the new organ. However, she’ll have to be on medication for the rest of her life so her body won’t reject it. I talked to her just before Easter, andshe’s still in remission for the Leukemia, and her body’s still accepting the kidney. See, you never become cured of cancer, you go into remission while the threat of it is over your head every single day, but as long as you’re in remission, you can live a healthy normal life.”
“Is she here?”
“Unfortunately, no. We don’t know where she is.” When Doug saw the disappointment on his face, he explained. “A little over four years ago she came to us, she still lived with Mom and Dad at this time. But said she was still in remission and she’d done the whole high school and college thing. But she was tired. That scared the piss out of us immediately.”
“I can understand why. Was she sick again?”
“No, when she said she was tired and saw our reaction, she said she was tired of every time she said she was tired, we would all freak out. That she felt like she couldn’t take a deep breath with all of us hovering over her. And in hindsight, we did hover. This is what she looked like then.” Doug got up and walked over to a desk and came back with a picture. He turned it and saw Christopher’s reaction.
“Holy shit, she’s beautiful. Gorgeous and sexy.” He looked up and blushed.
“Yes, she is, but we all treated her like she was like this.” He picked up a wedding picture and saw Christopher nod in understanding. “I can’t speak for the rest of the family, and even though she was healthy, vibrant, and thriving, I always saw her or treated her like she was fragile like in these photos.” He shook his head sadly. “I couldn’t help it.”
