The power of her words hit me. Out of the tragedy of her husband’s disease Dalton was born, and had she known about it, they wouldn’t have risked having him. You can’t live life waiting for things to go wrong, because then you’re not really living. Everyone is going to die. That is part of the journey of living. What matters most is living each day you do have like it might be your last.
I stood up and hugged Mary, glad for her support, and knowledge. Whatever tomorrow bought, I was determined to be there for him. Because even just one day with him would be worth it.
Chapter Thirty-Two
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Dalton
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The test was a simple DNA blood test. My blood was sent to a lab where it was analyzed to determine whether I carried the disease. If I did carry it, then there was no doubt that I would develop it.
“What does this even mean?” Wrenn muttered, throwing the brochure back onto the side table. We were sitting in the waiting room of the doctor’s office. I leaned forward and picked it up, sensing her frustration. She was nervous. We both were. I was shitting myself.
“The genetics of the disease are pretty complicated. Basically the disease is a genetic malfunction in the brain. It’s the same message getting repeated over and over and not getting through to the parts of the body that need it. See here?” I pointed to the reference of the CAG genetic mutation. She nodded. “So if this repeats less than thirty-five times, then it’s all good. If it repeats more than forty times, then not so good. The higher the number of repeats, the earlier the disease will develop.”
“And it’s usually worse with each generation?” she asked.
I nodded. “Not always, but usually.”
Wrenn studied the brochure. “What if this gene repeats, say thirty-six times?” she asked suddenly.
“If it’s less than thirty-nine, but higher than thirty-four, it’s likely the disease will develop. I think its something like a seventy percent chance I’ll show symptoms by the time I’m seventy.”
“So even after all of this, there is a chance you won’t have a conclusive answer?” she demanded.
I nodded.
“Then what’s the point? Why are you doing all this if there is a chance it won’t give you the answers you want?”
“Because no matter how small, if there is a chance I don’t have this, that I’ll never have this, I want to know about it. I want you to know about it.” I sighed. This was so fucking hard. I struggled to think of what to say to her. How could I make her understand?
How could I put into words what I was feeling?
“Not knowing might as well be the same as knowing that I have this. It’s always there, Wrenn. All these what ifs in the back of my mind, they don’t go away. I don’t want you to have to live that life too. If you’re in this, then great, but you’re at least going to know what it is exactly you’re in for.”
“I’ve already told you I’m in,” she said with a frown, reaching for my hand.
“And I’ve told you that any decision you make before we know for sure, I won’t accept,” I said pointedly.
She rolled her eyes at me.
“It’s a big decision, Wrenn. If I have this, I can’t change that. But you have a choice. I never want you to feel like you don’t have a choice.”
“Dalton Reid?”
I looked up. The doctor stood in the hallway outside his consulting room. I nodded and stood, Wrenn rising with me. She clutched my hand tightly. She was shaking. I tried to give her a reassuring smile, but it came out more like a grimace.
We followed him into his office. I studied his face, looking for answers but he was giving nothing away. He would make an awesome poker player.
We sat down, waiting for him to take his place behind his desk. He nodded at me, raising his eyebrows at Wrenn. It had been years—about ten to be exact—since I had seen Dr. Martin. He hadn’t changed much. His hair was grayer, and he looked older, but that was it.
“Dalton. It’s been, what, ten years? You’ve certainly grown into a fine young man. I presume this pretty thing is your girlfriend?”
I nodded and chuckled as Wrenn’s eyebrow shot up at being referred to as a ‘pretty young thing.’
“This is my girlfriend, Wrenn.” Girlfriend. Wow, that sounds good.
“Well it’s lovely to meet you, Wrenn. I only wish it were under better circumstances.”
My whole body tensed as he turned back to me. I studied his face. His eyes wouldn’t quite meet mine and he kept wetting his lips, as though the air was sucking the moisture out of them.
This was bad. Oh God, I’m not ready to hear this.
“I’m sorry, Dalton. There is no easy way to tell you this, so I’m not going to beat around the bush. You tested positive. Forty-two repeats. You have Huntington’s Disease.”
That single moment I will remember forever.
My beating heart, the sound of my breathing, the ticking of the clock that hung on the wall. I was aware of Wrenn’s stare, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at her.
Positive.
Positive.
No matter how much you prepare yourself for hearing those words, there is always the tiniest part of you clinging to the hope that it won’t be positive. All the times I had considered the disease, I’d never really believed that I would have it too.