“I understand, and that’s okay… but I have to try.” Mal accepted the packet from her. The front page, upon first glance, seemed to be a detailed account of the proposed clinical trial as it related to potential candidates. “Thank you. I know that it’s not likely, but… it gives me hope.”
“I only hope that your choices lead you to what you want, Mr. Collins. I urge you to read through the attached literature and make the decision for yourself. This could be the solution to your struggles with fertility… but it could lead to more heartache as well. If you choose to do this, your heart and your mind need to be ready.”
Mal nodded. He looked down at the packet, then up at Dr. Kanna. “I understand. I’m prepared.”
Dr. Kanna offered him a thin smile.
“Should I fill it out in the lobby?” Mal asked. “I want to submit it as soon as possible, since the trial is starting so soon.”
“The lobby is fine. The receptionist on duty will set you up with a clipboard. You can return the document to her once it’s completed, and the clinic will submit it for consideration.”
It was everything Mal needed to hear. He nodded. The glowing hope he’d walked in with had decayed, and in its place was wavering, muddled anxiety that was lined with uncertain excitement. What if he wasn’t selected? What if he was? What if something went wrong with the procedure? What if the problem was that something was fundamentally wrong withhim?
There were no answers in the present, and no solace to be found in speculation. If Mal didn’t try, he’d never know.
He reached across the table to shake Dr. Kanna’s hand. Her grip was firm and certain, and in it, Mal found the courage he needed.
It had taken him decades to quiet the demons inside him. Even following in-patient therapy, he’d struggled with issues of self-worth. But now, though those demons still whispered to him in his dreams, he was ready. He was strong and capable. He wasresilient.
He’d chase this clinical trial relentlessly—the pursuer instead of the pursued.
He’d start his family the way he wanted.
And if his plans didn’t work out the way he hoped they would, he’d find other ways to start the family he wanted. Surrogacy, foster care, adoption… he’d find what was right for him and make it work.
Today’s news wasn’t the birthday gift he’d been anticipating, but he was hopeful for it all the same. One step backward wasn’t so bad when he’d taken three steps forward. Despite his setbacks, the universe was on his side—as long as he continued to persevere, nothing was out of his reach.
14
Vincent
Afinal twist of the screwdriver secured the baseboard of Nikki’s wooden bed frame to the side rails. Vincent grabbed the top and rocked it back and forth to make sure it would hold, then eased up from where he’d been squatting and craned his neck to work out its kinks. It had been a long day. The red-eye from Corvallis to Aurora had eaten away his morning, and unpacking his new house had consumed his afternoon. Now, edging on eight at night, he worked to make sure that everything Nikki needed to be comfortable was set up.
Bed frame, check.
Next, support slats.
Where were the support slats?
“Nikki?” Vincent called. Nikki poked her head out of the closet and looked at him, her wide eyes narrowed in skeptical curiosity. “Have you seen some loose planks of wood? The movers should have brought them to your bedroom.”
“Yes. I put them in the closet.”
“In the closet?” Vincent couldn’t resist a smile. He used the interruption to roll his shoulders in an attempt to do away with some of their soreness. “What did you put them there for?”
“Wood would burn in Tartarus,” Nikki said solemnly. “I wanted to move the other parts of the bed, too, but they were too heavy.”
“But your closet is safe?”
“Yes.” Nikki came out of the closet in full. She dusted off the front of her shirt. “The closet is the Ascending Elevator that Leah uses to get between realms. It can’t catch on fire, Dad.”
“Oh, right.”
The Ascending Elevator. Of course. Vincent didn’t know of many elevators thatdidn’tascend, but he didn’t want to harp on Nikki any more than he already was.Heaven, Lockedwas her thing, and so, by extension, it was his thing, too. “But what about the time the elevator crashed and caught on fire?”
Nikki rolled her eyes. “Everyoneknows that Tartarus fire is different, Dad. It’sdemonic.”
“Oh, you’re right.” Vincent grinned. “Well, what if this wood was demonic, too?”
