At the airport Kiki and I hugged and hugged, and I promised to give her the update on Adam as soon as there was one. Just when I thought I had Greece to myself I got yanked away again. I hated leaving, but there was no alternative. I couldn’t stop thinking about Adam. I was going to be at his side as fast as humanly possible. I e-mailed the boys too. I couldn’t stand it that Adam was suffering, much less entertain the thought of anything worse.
Three hours later we were over the Atlantic Ocean, on a direct flight from Athens to Kennedy Airport in New York. From there we would take a United Airlines flight to Charleston. Ted was going to pick us up at the airport.
“Please tell me everything Ted said again.”
“He said that Adam had been complaining of extreme fatigue and that two nights ago he began vomiting and couldn’t stop. He called Ted, who came and rushed him to the ER. He was admitted right away and given fluids and they ran tests. They check for hep C now all the time.”
“Carl? How much danger do you think Adam is really in?”
“Big time. If it’s hepatitis C, and he’s already in danger of his liver failing, he’s going to need a liver transplant right away. If it’s not hep C, I don’t know what it could be.”
“Dear God. How in the world would Adam get hepatitis to begin with?”
“I don’t know. Did he ever get blood, like a transfusion?”
“Not that I know of. He’s never even been in a hospital since we met each other.”
“Does he have any tattoos?”
“Adam? No. He thinks they’re déclassé.”
“Well, they can be a health risk because tattoo parlors don’t always have the most antiseptic environments. Think about it. Hospitals are supposed to be germ free, but they’re not. People get MRSA or C. diff in hospitals!”
“I’ve read about that. It happens all the time,” I said.
“Well, he must have gotten blood somewhere along the line, because I can’t believe he’d share a needle with someone—not in a million years. He’s not a drug user.”
“In fact, he’s the furthest thing from one.”
“And hepatitis isn’t contagious. It has to be an exchange of blood.”
“How did he get so sick this quickly?”
“He’s probably had it for years. It hides. By the time you become symptomatic, you could be in the late stages of the disease. Bad odds.”
“How’s he going to get a liver transplant?”
“Well, there are only two ways—cadaver donor or living donor.”
“Oh, God. Poor Adam. What are the chances of a cadaver donor?”
“Probably not good. I don’t know the exact stat, but it’s something like only seven thousand people get them and seventeen thousand people need them every year.”
“Otherwise he dies?”
“No, he can have a live donor. I’m sure the doctors are already looking for a match for him.”
“How serious is this, Carl? I’m really worried.”
“Eliza, it’s dead serious. You can’t live without a liver. But you know what? You should try to get a little shut-eye. There’ll be plenty of time to fret later on.”
I thought to myself, He has to be kidding. He tells me my husband is in a life-threatening situation and I should take a nap? Then I understood: what he meant was that he wanted to focus on Adam’s illness and think it all through.
After tossing and turning in the seat for several hours, I crawled over sleeping Carl to just take a walk in the aisles. I didn’t need deep vein thrombosis any more than Adam needed hepatitis C. I used the powder room and took a bottle of water from a bar the flight attendants had set up near the galley. I looked at the faces of all the people on the plane as I passed them and thought, So many lives, so much love, and so much sorrow. I had never expected happiness every day of my life. But I had never expected anything like this. And certainly, not for tragedy to happen to Adam, who was as healthy as you would hope to be. If we lost Adam it would kill Ted, and my sons would be utterly and completely devastated. It would break my heart into a million pieces as well. I loved Adam, more than I had ever loved anyone. He made me as mad as every fury in hell, but if I lost him I couldn’t imagine how I would go on without him in the world. The thought of losing him made me feel my love for him deeply, as though I were feeling it for the first time. I knew then that our love had been rattled hard, but it wasn’t broken beyond repair.
Our flights were an endurance contest. I thought I would honestly lose my mind if I had to withstand one more minute of travel time, but after we landed at Kennedy, cleared customs, and changed terminals, we still had another hour and a half to go.
“I’m scared,” I said to Carl as we waited in line to board the flight to Charleston.
“I know but don’t be. I’m here.” He put his arm around my shoulder and gave me a squeeze.
I leaned into his side and thought about how safe Carl made me feel. It was like the day he lifted my little boy from the ground and rushed him to the hospital. Carl was imperfect, as we all are, but he was a dear, sweet friend. I knew he had to go back to Raleigh, but I also knew that since he had the time off, he would likely stay by my side until Adam was out of harm’s way. I couldn’t even consider any other possible outcome. Adam had to get well. And I needed Carl’s steadfast spirit. I really hoped he would stay.
He held my hand the entire flight home to Charleston, and I dozed off for a while. I was so tired I could’ve slept standing up. But I woke up and looked out the window as we passed over the Waccamaw River. I knew we were close to home. Minutes later we were on the ground and taxiing to the gate.
Passengers began to disembark.
“What do you think is waiting for us?” I said. I put the straps of my duffel bag over my shoulder and picked up my purse.
“Whatever it is, it’s going to be all right, Eliza. I’m right here.”
“Our very own Rock of Gibraltar,” I said. “Thank God.”
We worked our way through the terminal to the baggage claim area and spotted Ted. Cookie was with him. First, she saw me, then she saw Carl. I watched her face contort as she made a snap judgment. Inside of about two seconds she started huffing and puffing like a blowfish, and then she blew her stack. She rushed to Carl first and started poking his chest with her finger.
“You! You! You son of a bitch! Don’t even try to tell me that it’s a coincidence that you’re on the same plane!”
“Whoa! Cookie, calm down!” Carl said.
Then she turned to me.
“Shame on you, Eliza Stanley. Your poor husband is lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life, and you’re up to no good! Well, I have never . . .”
“Excuse me, Cookie, this is not what you think . . .” I said, realizing she thought I’d been in Greece or Italy or somewhere carrying on with Carl.
“Then explain yourselves!” she demanded.
“No, sorry, Cookie. I don’t answer to you,” I said. “How dare you!” I was getting pretty mad and I felt like Mount Etna, ready to spew. I was a grown woman with grown children, and no one spoke to me that way.
Ted finally saw what was happening, grabbed Cookie by the arm, and pulled her away.
“Cookie, get ahold of yourself,” he said. “You’ve got to stop jumping to conclusions. There’s no reason to make a scene.”