The air leaves my lungs.
Donate a kidney? Risk my life to save the woman who ruined mine? She’s got to be mad.
52
BASTION
Ishould have seen it coming the moment Hattie mentioned the transplant, but I was too concerned with consoling her. She threw me for a loop, and it took me damn near a full minute to respond.
My first instinct was a hell no. Why would I risk my life with surgery to save someone who clearly never gave a shit about me? But I know if I said no, there would be no Hattie and me. Not because she was forcing me in any way, but because every time she looked at me, all she would see is the person who could have possibly saved her mother and didn’t.
No, Hattie told me that my answer had no bearing on our relationship and that she understood what she was asking. That it’s a personal decision and one only I could make. She promised that she wouldn’t hold it against me if I wasn’t willing. But I don’t see how that could be true.
I’ve thought a lot about it, whether I could actually do it or not if it came down to it, and the truth is, I don’t know. There’s still so much rage deep inside me for Carla. But then I look over my life, at some of the things I did with Trent, and it dawns on me thatmaybe I hold that same status in other people’s eyes. That I’m the one who ruined them by interfering in their marriage after manipulating myself into a rich woman’s bed and blackmailing her, or working with Trent to clean out a couple’s life savings with one scam or another.
Maybe I shouldn’t be the one to throw stones. I have no right to be righteous.
And so, I’m back in Wisconsin and at the hospital to see my mother and have a conversation with her. A real conversation about everything that went down, for the first time ever.
I told Hattie it was what I needed to make my decision. She didn’t pressure me, just said she would be there to support me through it.
My palms are sweaty, and the collar of my shirt feels too tight as I step off the elevator with Hattie. As we make our way down the hall, she rubs my back, obviously picking up how difficult this is for me.
When we reach the room, Hattie stops and turns to me. “No matter what you decide, I’ll respect it. But please go in there with an open heart.” She places her palm on my chest. “So thatyoucan heal.”
I say nothing, unconvinced my voice would work even if I wanted it to. My vocal cords feel as if they’re being squeezed in someone’s fist. Leaning in, I kiss her forehead, then I walk into the room.
Carla’s prone figure rests in the middle of the hospital bed, and Robert is at her side in a chair. She looks sicklier than the last time I saw her. They turn toward the doorway when we enter.
“Sweetie, you’re back,” Carla says to her daughter in a weak voice, then looks at me. “Bastion.” She gives me a tight-lipped, nervous smile.
I have no idea if she knows why I’m here. I didn’t bother asking Hattie. It doesn’t matter. This is a conversation that’s been needed since the moment I discovered Carla was alive.
Robert gets up out of his chair and hugs his daughter. When she goes to give her mom a hug in bed, his attention turns to me. I’m sure there’s lots he’d like to say to me, but instead he nods before turning his attention to the two women in his life.
I do the same and see that they’re both looking at me. Once again, the collar of my shirt feels like a noose around my neck.
Hattie turns to her father. “Dad, why don’t we get something to eat so that Mom and Bast can talk?”
Robert hesitates, looking at Carla. Hattie hooks her arm through his, and he starts out of the room, but not before giving me a look that reads, “Upset her, and you’ll have to deal with me.”
I can respect that. If roles were reversed, I’d do the same for Hattie.
The door closes behind me with a click that reverberates through my bones.
“Thank you for coming.”
I nod and shove my hands in my pockets, not moving any closer to the bed. Neither of us says anything for a long while. It’s as if there’s too much to say and neither of us is sure where to start.
“You can say whatever you want, Bastion. You don’t have to hold back just because I’m dying.” There’s grief in her eyes that Iimagine matches my own. “Scream, shout, tell me how worthless I am to you, say it all. You deserve that at the very least.”
With a sigh, I approach her bedside and sit in the chair Robert vacated. “I don’t want to scream and yell at you. I did. For a long while, I did. But it won’t change anything, and I doubt it will make me feel better anyway. Not when it would hurt Hattie.”
“You love her.” There’s reverence in her voice.
I nod.
“She’s easy to love, isn’t she?” Carla gives me a watery smile.
