“I’m just saying that Foster can choose to do something out of conviction because it’s the right thing to do for a fellow human, not solely because it’s the right thing to do for his brother.”
“But why is he even obligated to?”
“He’s not,” Tabitha said. “I’m not suggesting he is. I’m not suggesting he owes this to anyone. All I’m saying is that if he does choose to move forward, and if hedoesfind out he’s a match, he can do this one thing without it suggesting heapproves of everything his brother did in his past. The act says more about Foster than it does Jim. And it might be equally as healing for both of them.”
Camille rolled her shoulders in another deep sigh. She flipped the water tap off, chucked her sponge into the sink, then spun around to face her friends, a troubling look capturing her features. “Can I be honest with you two about something?”
“Was there ever a time when we’ve made you feel like you can’t?”
“I know.” She swallowed. “I know I can tell you both anything.”
“Anything and everything.” Edie placed a hand on Camille’s forearm.
“I’m worried that if Foster moves forward and finds out he’s a match, then goes through with the surgery, that something might happen to him during it. Something horrible. Something that will leave me all alone.”
“These living transplant surgeries have really high success rates, Cami,” Tabitha assured her sister.
“I know they do. But there’s always the off chance that something goes wrong, right? Something unexpected? Some fluke thing?”
Tabitha wasn’t going to lie. Percentages didn’t. “Yes. There’s always that possibility, however small.”
“So what if this is Jim’s way of finally ruining Foster’s life for good?”
Tabitha shook her head. “He doesn’t have that kind of power in this.”
“He might not, but someone or something greater does. And what if this is Foster’s penance for what he did to Jim all those years ago? His final payment.”
It was Edie’s turn to disagree. “He already paid the price for that. He did jailtime.”
Tabitha and Camille didn’t grow up going to church. They didn’t have a religious upbringing in that sense, but that didn’t mean they weren’t spiritual. Tabitha was fully aware that sometimes in her OR, there was something else guiding her hands. Some other being directing the outcome. She’d seen too many miracles to question it. And on occasion, right before a particularly tricky surgery, she would send up a quick prayer to whomever it was listening up there to ask for some sort of divine intervention.
She had faith. She didn’t have all the answers, but she believed enough to know that higher powers didn’t work the way Camille described.
“What if there’s more that’s required of him?” Camille asked. “What if a few years in a county jail isn’t enough?”
“I guess that’s not for us to decide.” Tabitha gave her sister a heartfelt look. She hated seeing her so twisted up in knots over this. She wondered what she would do if Ben were in a similar situation. She wasn’t sure she had an answer to that.
“At the end of the day, I will support Foster in any and every way he needs me to. But you know me. I’m terrible at masking my inner emotions.”
“You’ll have to,” Tabitha said point-blank. “For Foster’s sake, you’ll have to.”
Camille just gave a weary, helpless grin, flipped the water back on, and drowned out their conversation.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Being supportive nearly gave Camille a bloody tongue. She’d had to bite it all morning. Each time Foster assured her that she didn’t need to go with him down to the hospital, she chomped down on it. Every time he told her he was fine (she knew he wasn’t), she bit it. And when he stepped out the front door, getting swept into the storm that absolutely would not relent, she zipped her lip and bit her tongue once again.
Keeping quiet was a losing battle.
At least there was one person who didn’t mind her grumbling since he did his fair share every now and then, too.
“Everything’s going to be alright, Millie.” Skip found her in the kitchen near the big window, face inches from the glass. Her breath fogged against it in a circle that lasted just a few fleeting seconds before disappearing.
“How do you know that?”
“Because I’ve lived enough life to see the pattern in things.”
She turned toward Skip. “The pattern?”
