Amelia

I’ve settled into a routine the last couple of days since I’ve been here. I wake before the sun comes up and have breakfast and then lie back down for a few hours for rest. Around ten or so, my bladder usually wakes me back up, and this time I choose to stay up and watch a little television with the other ladies.

I’ve learned a lot about the women here. They are nothing like the women they feature on television. These women are normal people with families at home. Normal human beings who all made a mistake at some point in time. A mistake that they are paying for by being trapped here in this hell hole.

I feel bad for them. I know that at some point, those steel doors will open and I’ll be allowed to escape my walled prison, but I’ll have to leave each one of them behind. Some of them, like Mrs. Ashley, who everyone calls Momma, I have come to truly care for, and I will miss when I’m out. I’ve promised to keep in touch, even though I can tell she doesn’t believe it.

The buzzer sounds, and my name is called. For a moment, I just sit there, staring toward the wall until the ladies’ cheering sinks in, and then I find myself being shoved toward the door. Mrs. Ashley walks with me as far as she can, carrying my pallet and pillow that she passes to me when she hugs me bye. I try to hold in the tears when the door closes between us, but they fall anyway. I make a promise to myself to not lose touch with her. No matter what else the future holds, I don’t want to lose the relationship I have built, no matter how brief, with Mrs. Ashley.

When I step into the brightly lit parking lot, I have to shield my eyes from the glare of the sun. After being locked inside for three days and only having artificial lighting, my eyes are not used to the brilliant rays of the sun. Shapes are just coming into focus when I’m swept off my feet from the side.

Cal’s strong arms circle my waist, holding me tight and making me feel every bit as loved and cherished as I want and need to feel. I allow it for a minute—okay, maybe two—and then I push away from him and force him to set me back down on the ground.

“I’m so happy to see your beautiful face,” he says, leaning in to kiss me. I turn my head to the right and look up and him.

“That makes one of us.”

“What do you mean? What’s wrong, Amie?”

“What’s wrong? Are you kidding me right now? I just spent three days in JAIL because of you, Cal. Jail!”

“I had nothing to do with that. I already told you that.”

“I don’t care. It doesn’t matter anymore. Take me the hospital, Cal. I need to see Carson. How is he?”

“I don’t know. They wouldn’t let me in there to see him or give me any information because you had me banned.” Shit, I forgot all about that.

“So who has been with him? Please don’t tell me he has been all alone this whole time?” I ask as we pull into the hospital and head for the elevator. I can’t believe he hasn’t been with Carson this whole time. I can’t even begin to imagine the way Carson must be feeling right now.

“No. Of course not. A couple of the guys have been in and out of there to check on him and to keep me up to date,” he says as we exit the elevator and I step into the waiting room full of St. Louis Bucks. The entire team is here. There isn’t a spare seat available. I stop dead in my tracks and gaze into the room of red and black, trying to process everything.

Coach Morris makes his way to us, pulling me in for a tight hug that has my breath catching in the back of my throat. “I want you to know what a pleasure it has been to be here and have the opportunity to spend time with that fine young gentleman in there. You’ve done one hell of a job raising him.”

“Thank you. For everything.”

“No thanks needed. We are family here. I just hope and pray one of us comes back a match.”

“I’m sorry?” I ask, clearly misunderstanding.

“A match for the donor thingy. We were all tested. It would be an honor for any of us to donate to young Carson in there.”

“You were all tested? For him?” I ask.

“Well, yeah.”

The tears that had been threatening to fall make their way down my cheeks now in a waterfall of moisture. I make my way around the room, hugging as many of the ball players as I can on my way to Carson’s room, completely overcome by the selfless generosity of these strangers. It warms my heart and brightens my soul to see that genuine good people still exist in this world and are willing to lend a helping hand to those in need.

For the first time, I feel like we might have a chance. We just might be able to fight and beat this beast called cancer one more time. When I finally make it to Carson’s door, I’m met by Dr. Hill and another woman, Mrs. Simpson, a social worker with the Department of Human Resources and Child Protective Services.

“Miss Hart, it’s a pleasure to see you. I was just informing Mrs. Simpson here of Carson’s condition and the course of action.”

“I see. How is he today?” I say, pushing open the door and walking into the room. It takes me a moment to recognize him underneath the tubes and wires flowing in every direction around him. I don’t know what the hell happened while I was gone, but something did. Something very, very bad.

I look to Dr. Hill, wanting so badly to question him, but not wanting the bitch Social Service worker to know I have no idea what is going on. Thankfully, Callum walks in and doesn’t waste any time blurting out the first thing that comes to his mind.

“What the fuck, Doc. What the hell is all this shit?”

“Mr. Johnson, Carson’s condition has taken a turn for the worse since the last time you saw him. I can assure you, we are still doing everything in our power to care for him, but his body is trying to shut down.”

“What the fuck do you mean?”

“The cancer started to progress at a terrifying rate, and we were left with no choice but to put Carson back on chemotherapy. Unfortunately, his body isn’t strong enough to handle the medicine and his appendix burst. Now, we are fighting the infection in his body and hoping that we find a donor as soon as possible.”

“Son of a bitch.” Callum says what we are both thinking. I want to reach across the room and claw his eyes out right now for taking me away from Carson when he needed me the most, even if he didn’t do it directly. It was still his fault. It was someone he allowed in his life and in mine.

“Miss Hart, I know this is a bad time, but I have a few things I need to go over with you.” I had almost forgotten the social worker was still here. She has been so quiet in the background, watching, observing.

“Can we do it here, please?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll be back around in a little while to check on Carson, but don’t hesitate to have the nurses call me if you need me,” Dr. Hill states as he leaves the room.

“Thank you,” I call to him on his way out the door and then turn to Mrs. Simpson. I can’t believe DHR is in our lives again. We haven’t seen or heard from them since my mother up and left five years ago. They did an investigation then and made sure my home was safe for him and then eventually closed the case. It was the worst feeling in the world, though, to know I had an open DHR case and that any moment, they could sweep in and take Carson away. I hated living in that fear.

“First things first, I need you both to take a drug test. Are you comfortable doing that here?”

“Sure,” We both reply at the same time. I have nothing to hide, and I hope like hell he doesn’t either.

“Okay, Amelia, if you will take this into the restroom and bring it back to me when you’re finished, then Callum can do the same.”

I take the clear plastic cup from her and walk into the bathroom, tearing the sterile sticker off as I go. It takes me a little while to get the cup filled because I can’t quite get comfortable and reach between my legs, but I manage, and after washing my hands, I take my cup back out to her and let Cal take my place in the bathroom.

I ease down on the edge of Carson’s bed, careful to not wake him up, and wait for Cal. I really just want to lay down beside him and sleep for a month or two, but I know that isn’t possible. The pain in my side flares up again, and I have to stand back up to relieve it. It seems the only time it doesn’t hurt is if I’m standing and walking, but then my feet kill me.

“Having contractions already?” Mrs. Simpson asks.

“Huh?”

“Your side . . . is it hurting? You’re probably having contractions.”

“Oh, no. Just back pain from sleeping wrong.” I can’t be having contractions. Contractions hurt a lot worse than this simple itch in my side.

“Have you considered a cord bank? For stem cells? I’ve heard that there is usually a high match rate with siblings.”

“Do what? Cord bank?”

“Yes. They would take the umbilical cord and use the stem cells in it for Carson.”

“Oh my God, they can do that?”

“I think so, yes.”

Callum walks out of the bathroom at the butt end of our conversation, and I am practically jumping up and down with joy. I can’t wait to send this woman out the door and do some research. I feel like I have just won the lottery.

She takes Cal’s cup, and after looking at the results, sets it down beside mine.

“I don’t see any point in dragging this out. It is obvious to me that you love Carson very much and want what is best for him. I have to keep this case open for thirty days, but I highly doubt I’ll be seeing either of you again in the future.”

“Oh, thank you. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. Keep up the good work, and good luck with everything.”

“Thanks.”

I follow her to the door, and after closing it behind her, I lean against it and just breathe. My life has taken such a twisted path from the course I had planned for it in the last couple of weeks, and I don’t know how to get it back on track or if it’s even possible. I have so many unanswered questions and not nearly enough time to get the answers I need.

Callum pulls me against his chest, and I go willingly. As much as I don’t want to be in his arms right this second, I need him. I think a part of me will always need him. I just have to find the strength to push away.

“Just let me love you, Amie.”