Jackson checked his watch. “Shouldn’t be much longer, sis. David had told us it would be early to mid afternoon by the time they were ready to start the infusion.”
Laura wiped tears from her eyes, sniffling loudly. “It breaks my heart that I can’t be with my baby right now,” she sobbed, rummaging through her purse for a tissue. “I don’t understand why they won’t let any of us in the room. I mean, I’ve been in there with Hannah plenty of times during procedures. And I understand about having to wear all the gowns and masks in order to keep it sterile.”
“This is different,” explained Jackson, taking his sister’s hand in his and wondering why the hell Neil couldn’t have made do with a meal from the cafeteria so he could have been here to comfort his wife. “Everything has to be as sterile as possible, there can’t be even the tiniest chance of infection when they begin the infusion. Besides, Hannah’s heavily sedated right now, and she wouldn’t know if you were there or not.”
“I would know,” insisted Laura. “I just feel so helpless, Jack. My poor baby has been through so much over the last couple of years.”
“Think of how excited she’ll be to see all of the lovely gifts everyone has sent her,” pointed out Candace, visibly eager to distract her daughter. “Even though we told all of our family and friends and clients that Hannah couldn’t have flowers or balloons or stuffed animals in her room, that didn’t stop dozens of people from sending things over. The nurses are keeping everything in an empty room down the hall for her until it’s safe for them to be moved to her room. Jackson, maybe you could take some photos of them. Oh, or a little video, darling! That would be wonderful. Once Hannah’s feeling a little better we can show her a video of all her presents.”
“Sure, Mom. I can do that,” assured Jackson. “Maybe after Dad and Neil get back from lunch. And after they start the bone marrow infusion.”
He wondered if there had been any complications or delays during the harvesting process, but told himself that David would have surely contacted the family if any significant problems had cropped up.
And he wondered, guiltily so, how Scarlett was doing after the procedure, especially considering her fear of both needles and hospitals. He felt like shit for not having called or texted her these past few days, especially knowing how alone she was, and since he’d been the one to bring her into this situation in the first place. It didn’t matter that he had gone out of his way to make sure that all of the arrangements for her travel, hotel, and meals had been taken care of, and that he’d insisted on everything being top of the line. He should have still carved ten lousy minutes out of his schedule to get in touch with her, no matter how impossible it might have been.
Work had been insanely busy, with several unexpected problems having cropped up at construction sites over the past ten days. He’d been putting in twelve to fourteen hour days, and working part of the weekend as well, along with finding time to visit Hannah as often as possible. David had warned the family that in the days leading up to the bone marrow infusion Hannah would be even weaker and sicker than normal from the drugs she’d be receiving to prepare her body, and sooner than later would need to remain completely isolated except for the bare minimum of medical personnel. So he had wanted to spend as much time as he could with her before then, even if it was just for a few minutes a day.
His crazy work schedule had unfortunately begun to wear thin on Devon’s patience, given that he’d had to cancel at least two dinners and a party (not that he had really been in the mood to attend a party), and his phone calls and texts to her had been necessarily brief. As a result, she’d been alternately pissy and super possessive, chewing him out for being the worst boyfriend ever and then, less than a hour later, leaving him a tearful voice mail telling him how sorry she was, that she just missed him terribly, and that she would try harder to be more understanding. She texted or messaged him almost hourly, and he was trying real hard not to feel smothered by her neediness.
Scarlett, on the other hand, hadn’t contacted him a single time except to text him a terse “Thanks, got it” after she’d received his message detailing all of her travel arrangements. He tried to imagine her in the role of needy, demanding girlfriend, and had to stifle a laugh at just the thought. She was so fiercely independent, so stubborn and proud, that she’d probably walk over a field of broken glass and rusty nails barefoot before asking anyone for help.
Her independence and ability to look out for herself, however, didn’t excuse his appalling lack of attention towards her. He pulled out his phone, not knowing if she was still in the recovery room or getting ready to be discharged, and was just about to send her a quick text when Barton and Neil reappeared. Hastily, Jackson shoved the phone back in his pocket, not wanting his father to ask who he was communicating with. As it was, he and Neil had been extra discreet and closemouthed over the last few days, knowing how suspicious and nosy Barton could be. Jackson just knew his father was pissed as hell that the identity of the donor was being kept such a huge secret. And it wasn’t because Barton wanted to reach out and thank the donor personally, or try to offer them some type of financial compensation. No, thought Jackson with a grimace, it was simply because his father was such a fucking control freak that he couldn’t stand the thought of not knowing every single fact.
David, who was well aware of how controlling and obsessive Barton was, had outright lied to the older man’s face, telling him calmly that even he didn’t know the identity of the donor, and that the donor lived in another state. The implication - one that David hadn’t bothered to correct - was that the bone marrow harvest would be done in the donor’s home town and would then quickly be transported here to Phoenix. Jackson shuddered to imagine his father’s actions if he had somehow learned that the harvesting process had, in fact, happened just a couple of floors down in this very building.
And it went without saying that if Barton ever found out, or even suspected, the true identity of Hannah’s savior, all hell would break out, despite the fact that his granddaughter’s life would have been spared.
“Have they started the infusion yet?” demanded Barton, sitting down next to Candace.
Like his wife, Barton Gilmore worked hard to keep himself looking young and fit, watching what he ate and limiting his intake of alcohol. He played golf and tennis frequently, swam laps every day in his pool at home, and worked out with a personal trainer. Barton being Barton, however, often claimed that he knew far more than the trainer and was just throwing good money away by employing him.
“Not yet,” replied Jackson. “Should be any time now.”
Barton swore beneath his breath. “For Christ’s sake, I should hope so. I thought it would all be done by now, that maybe we could see our little Hannah for a few minutes.”
“None of us will be able to see her for a few days,” Neil reminded him none-too-patiently. David had warned all of them about this several times. “The first week or so after they begin the infusion is crucial, and they’ll be going to even greater lengths than normal to avoid any hint of potential infection. Ah, and if I’m not mistaken here comes David and his team now.”