“He’s tough,” Amanda whispered.
I wondered who she was uttering the words for – me or herself? I smoothed my hand up her back, kneading the base of her skull with gentle fingers. “He is tough. And so are you.”
She lifted her face to mine. “If I ask you to kiss me again, will you?”
I lowered my head to hers. “You don’t have to ask.”
I brushed my lips over hers. She sighed into the kiss, and then, when I straightened, nestled her head into the space beneath my chin and snaked her arms around my torso.
We stood that way for a long time. Watching Tanner sleep. Holding each other.
Julie came back into the room I don’t know how long later.
“I think you two need to either go home or sit down,” she whispered as she placed my phone on the table – Parker had obviously finished talking with my mum, “I don’t want to be stitching one of you up because you’ve fallen asleep standing up and cracked your head open on the floor.” She began to check Tanner’s IV.
Amanda let out a soft chuckle, disengaged from my arms, threaded her fingers through mine and drew me over toward the two armchairs. I didn’t argue or suggest we go back to her apartment. I didn’t want to be anywhere else but there.
Finished with her check, Julie turned an understanding smile to us. “Want a pillow?”
“I’m good,” I answered, resting my hand on Amanda’s back as she curled into a ball in her chair.
Julie smiled again and left.
“You are good, Bren,” Amanda whispered.
I looked down at her, finding her gazing up at me, her cheek on the arm of her chair, her lips curled in a sleepy smile. “Too good for me.”
I smoothed my hand over her back and gave her a playful grin. “Hell yeah, I am,” I whispered back. “Unfortunately, you’re stuck with me so quit your complaining.”
She laughed quietly, closed her eyes, and was asleep.
I returned my gaze to our sleeping son, and for the first time in my life, prayed to God. And as I fell asleep, I wished there was some bloody way to know he’d been listening.
Thirteen
I Remembered Her Answer
A gentle shake of my knee woke me.
Squinting and blinking, completely disoriented, I shifted in the chair. Why was I in a chair?
Electronic beeps and mechanical-breathing sounds scratched at my ears. So did a female voice murmuring, “Brendon. Brendon, there’s someone here to see you.”
I blinked again, my vision slowly coming into focus. Man, I felt like I’d been hit buy a bus.
“Brendon?” The hand on my knee shook a little harder. “There’s a Maci and Raphael at Reception. They say they’ve flown in from—”
“Plenty, Ohio,” I croaked, repositioning myself. I squinted up at the unfamiliar nurse hovering over me, her hand still on my knee.
A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “That’s it.”
I did that weird lip-smacking thing people do when woken abruptly from a deep sleep, wiped at my mouth and swung my head – damn, it felt wobbly – to look down at Amanda. She was still sound asleep.
“What time is it?” I asked the new nurse, my voice husky.
“Two am. I’m sorry I had to wake you. But they say they’re here to be tested to see if they’re a match for Tanner.” She frowned, removing her hand from my knee and straightening. “They’re at Reception right now.”
Sliding my hand from Amanda’s back, I slowly unfurled from the chair. Every muscle in my body ached. The bones in my back cracked.
The new nurse frowned some more. “I really am sorry for waking you.”
“Don’t be.” I fisted my hands at the small of my back, stretched once, twice, and then looked over to where Tanner still slept, curled on his side, his thumb in his mouth. “I’m glad you did.”
We walked from the room, the nurse – Melinda, her badge said – beside me. “I’ll let Amanda know where you are if she wakes,” she said, as I headed for the exit.
I moved through the quiet hospital. I passed more than one parent: quiet fathers, mothers, pacing the silent corridors. Every time we’d make brief eye contact, sharing a connection in those few seconds, a mutual understanding of the heartache behind our presence there, and offering wordless strength with a simple nod.
It wasn’t until I’d arrived at the entry foyer that it occurred to me I probably looked a complete mess. I was long overdue a shave and some personal grooming. I genuinely had no idea when I’d last cleaned my teeth. In the plane? Before turbulence hit? I think . . .
“Brendon!” A small, warm body slammed into me before I made it halfway across the foyer. Surprisingly strong arms wrapped around me.
I staggered back a step or two – I’m blaming jetlag. Or sleep deprivation. But I recovered enough to lift Maci off the floor and spin her around once. “Plenty, Ohio,” I said, dropping her to her feet and smiling widely at her. “I’d kick your arse for flying out here if I didn’t want to kiss you so much for doing so.”
“Ease up, Osmond,” Raphael Jones, fellow Australian and all-round good guy, appeared behind Maci, his expression stern, his hand extended. “No one’s kissing Maci but me, got it?”
I took his hand and shook it. Shook it hard. Not because he was the guy who’d taken the only other girl I’d ever loved away from me, but because he was here to hopefully save my son. Maci’s Parkinson’s disease would automatically cancel her out, which meant they were here so Raph could be tested. He didn’t have to do that. Not at all. But here he was. Because he was my friend.
“Jones,” I said, curling my arm around Maci and pulling her into my side. “I wish I could tell you . . . There’s no real words to say how much I appreciate . . .”
He shut down my woeful attempt at saying thank you with a grunt and wave of his hand. “You’d do it for us. I know that.”
“What do we have to do?” Maci asked.
I noticed her left hand was trembling. Stress or exhaustion exacerbated the symptoms of her Parkinson’s, and a hot finger of guilt traced up my spine at the sight.
“You know what?” I answered, my voice suddenly strained. “For this very second, I think what I need more than anything else is a hug from you.” I flicked Raph a sheepish grin. “Sorry about this, Jones.”
He grunted out a laugh. “Go for it.”
I wrapped Maci completely in my arms and hugged her. An eyes-closed, cheek-pressed-to-her-head, breath-deep-and-slow hug.
“Missed you, Plenty,” I murmured. “It’s good to see you.”
Maci hugged me back, tightening her arms around my torso and squeezing. “Ditto, Uni Fitness Manager,” she murmured back.
“Alright, alright,” Raph chuckled, extracting Maci from my embrace. “My turn.”
He hugged me. I didn’t know what to do for a second. Raphael Jones was not a hugger. But there he was, giving me a hard hug, followed by a hard slap on the back. By the time I’d recovered enough from the shock, he’d released me and was sliding his arm around Maci’s shoulders. Maci, for her part, looked like she was about to cry, or burst out laughing, I couldn’t decide which. I don’t think she could either.