She reached over and briefly patted my hand. “I love both my sons equally, of course. But they’re so different. Theo and I have spent our entire lives getting to know each other and it’s not always been easy. But with Jonah, it’s effortless.”
Beverly’s brows knitted together, as if she were trying to recall something now forgotten. “I’ve known Jonah before. I know I have. Call it reincarnation or whatever you’d like. I’m not religious or even particularly spiritual. But I can’t help but feel the universe is a vast place, and the soul of a human being is infinite, even if the body is temporary.” She nodded to herself, certain now. “I’ve known Jonah before, and I know I’ll see him again. And that gives me comfort. Not a lot, but some.”
She turned to me. “And you, Kacey. You give me comfort. Quite a lot more comfort these days than anything else.”
I swallowed the jagged lump in my throat but couldn’t move otherwise. Beverly’s words wrapped around me and squeezed until all I could hear was her voice and my own heart thudding in my chest.
“I’m sure you know Jonah had a serious girlfriend in college,” she said.
“Audrey.”
“Yes. Nice girl, but serious. Driven. She was…precise about how she wanted her life to be.” Beverly’s mouth became a thin line, and her voice hardened. “I was angry with her for leaving Jonah when he needed her most. Furious. But you want to know something strange? The day after she flew out of the country, the very next day, we got the call that a donor had been matched. Isn’t that something?”
I didn’t say anything. No answer was required, anyway.
“Jonah was in surgery, and she was gone. I tried to think of ways to break the news and comfort him. I thought surely he’d be devastated. Betrayed. Yet when I thought of their time together, I couldn’t recall anything that would qualify as much of a loss. Nothing significant in three years. His eyes didn’t light up when he looked at her across our dinner table. His voice didn’t change when he said her name. He never spoke of her with…awe. Only facts.
“Audrey and I are thinking of flying to Cabo. Audrey and I are attending the gallery opening. Audrey and I are having dinner with friends…’ It was a news report of incidentals.” She looked at me, her smile wreathed in a sheepish guilt. “That’s petty and unkind, but it’s true.”
“I understand.”
“His heart isn’t well now, but he’s much healthier in other ways. Ways I’d always hoped for when he was with Audrey, but never observed.”
I felt a tightening in my chest, an anticipation of something I needed to hear, something that would save me from my faltering courage.
“Jonah is always insisting we don’t talk about bucket lists,” Beverly said. “‘Don’t bucket-list me, Mom.’ But mothers… We all have our own list for our children—hopes we have for them. Dreams and aspirations. My list is full, and all the things Jonah might never do or experience weigh heavily on me. So heavy. A wedding, children of his own…”
She looked at me, her lips trembling, her eyes shining. “Falling in love and being loved in return. That’s the heaviest one. But you’re here now. And the way he talks about you…” Her eyes filled and spilled over. “His eyes light up and his voice changes when he says your name. His smile when you walk into a room is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”
A tingling warmth began to spread through me, warming me against the icy chill of fear and grief. Beverly reached out and brushed a tear from my cheek and cupped my chin.
“And even more beautiful than that, Kacey? Your eyes light up when my son is near. Your voice changes when you say his name. And the smile you wear when you’re looking at him and think no one is watching…Those are gifts I’ll never be able to thank you for. To know my Jonah is loved. He’ll leave this world loved, won’t he?”
I nodded, tears streaming from my eyes. “Yes,” I whispered. “He’s loved and he’ll be loved forever.”
Beverly’s smile shone through her tears like a ray of sun through rain. “Wonderful.” She patted my cheek and let her hand fall. “Cross that off my list, then.”
Six weeks.
Dr. Morrison laid it out for me. The biopsy results were as I expected: the hardening of the arteries was accelerating, and blood tests showed that the amount of antibodies my immune system had developed against the donor heart was skyrocketing. Heart failure was imminent. I was back on the donor list with emergency status, but to add insult to injury, the immunosuppressant medications had taken a toll on my kidneys, compromising my chances for a second transplant. In the eyes of the Board, I wasn’t a favorable candidate.
Six weeks. Not months anymore.
Strings of days.
Hardly more than a thousand hours.
But within those hours, thousands upon thousands of moments…
I stared at the dust motes that danced in a shaft of morning sun lancing from the window. Real, warm light against the harsh fluorescents above me.