Chapter 20
Sydney
Three weeks had passed since that night at the hospital. In that time, Declan and I had spent hours talking, catching up. I told him about Owen, everything there was to tell, the good and the bad.
He was getting better, too. It took a week for the infection to retreat and for Declan to get some of his strength back, but once he was feeling well enough to walk on his own, they transferred him to the hospital in Zion. The doctors there had ran every test there was to run in record time, and got Declan into their latest experimental program. Chemotherapy and drugs were still on the menu, but this time the effects were apparent. He had even put some weight on, which caused a new wave of banter between him and I.
I went back to work, but I visited Declan almost every day, spending some nights at the hospital with him, even though he asked me not to. “That’s out of question, Declan,” I would say.
The bills were paid the moment they arrived, but in that time, I had not heard from Owen once. I knew he was paying them, and even though I broke our deal I was thankful. He didn’t have to do that. I wasn’t his problem anymore.
But I missed him.
I hated to admit it, after everything, but I did. I truly missed him. And it hurt. So many times I wanted to reach out, to apologize, to say thank you for helping with Declan. But I didn’t even have his number.
+++
After a few weeks of treatment I drove to Zion to meet with the head of the clinic, who was going to update me on Declan’s well-being. I arrived there just after six and went straight to the doctor’s office, nervous, as if I was walking into an exam.
“Happy to see you Miss Mercer,” the woman said, when I stepped inside. “I’ve been looking forward to this day!”
I couldn’t hold back the smile. “I assume it’s good news then?” I sat down across from her.
“Very much so! Your brother is a tough cookie, I’ll tell you that much! There’s almost no trace of the infection that we could find in his lungs. He can breathe and speak normally, and he does that every time the nurses are around!” They giggled, and she continued, “The cancer is still there, and we have to continue treating him until we see a positive trend. The cells diminishing. Not growing back.”
“How much longer will that take?” I asked.
“Impossible to say, I’m afraid. We are doing everything we can, but there is only so much we can do. It can take a couple more weeks, or it can take a year. I don’t want to alarm you, but you must be ready for the long haul.”
“Oh, I’ve been preparing for that our whole lives.”
The doctor offered a sympathetic smile. “What I can guarantee is that the treatment can make things better, but I can’t promise it will cure your brother. I wish I could say that.”
“I know. It’s okay. Thank you. We will keep fighting. Like you said, Declan is a tough cookie, and he makes me tough. We’ll get through it.”
“I know you will, Sydney, and we’re here for you.” When I began to get up, she added, “Do say hi to your brother from me when you are delivering the news, okay?”
“Will do.” I smiled, and left the office. I felt like I could fly! It wasn’t a knockout victory, but I felt they were half-way there. The Bon Jovi song popped into my head, and I went down the hallway humming the melody and mouthing the words. This was something, real progress. And it was all thanks to Owen.
I walked into Declan’s room with a huge smile on my face. Declan was watching TV, sitting in my bed.
“Have you talked to Dr. Morrison?” he asked.
“I sure did!”
“A-and?”
“No infection!”
“Fuck yes no infection! I kicked its ass!”
“I’m so proud of you! The doctors here have done an amazing job.”
My brother turned more serious. “About that. I assume we have some private benefactor paying out bills.”
“Yes,” I said simply, unwilling to go into details. The subject was bothering me, too, but I wasn’t going to worry about until after Declan had been released from the hospital
“Is it a lot?”
“It’s at least twice more than a lot. The monitoring here alone costs more than what we have paid on our own.”
“Holy shit…”
“Yeah. But that doesn’t matter for now, right? We’ve been given this chance to heal you, so let’s focus on that.” I sat down next to him, looking at the TV screen.
Declan said, “Tell him I’m thankful. If you ever speak to him again that is.”
“Yeah I will, one day.”
“You should look for him,” Declan said, matter-of-factly.
“What? No. He doesn’t want to see me. Otherwise he would’ve called.”
“He’s paying my medical bills, if that’s not an attempt to reconcile, I don’t know what is. I just can’t stand seeing you suffering. Let me worry about you, for once!”
I sighed looking at him. I did need to thank Owen for his help, if nothing else. “You know, you might be right. Thanks, I’ll try.”
“Please, do. For your own sake. And for mine, I can’t handle you moping around here anymore.”
I pushed him as he laughed. “Fine, I’ll find him, okay?”
+++
I got home that evening and did the only thing I could think to do.
Google Owen Hayes. And pray something of value came up. I saw dozens of articles surrounding both the company and person, but I ignored all that – all I cared about was how to find someone who didn’t want to be found. What I did look into was the company’s address and phone number.
I made numerous calls, but when one finally connected, the secretary said, “I’m sorry, I’m not at liberty to disclose phone numbers of my superiors.”
Which wasn’t a surprise on its own, but the way the woman spoke, it was as if she’d been trained to say exactly that sentence. I hung up and tried another number. Same result. The next number wasn’t much better. I had tried every number with every extension on the corporate website, but each time I was either denied the information or given another number that led to nothing.
Finally, once I had exhausted the list, I tried to find something useful in one of the articles. I discovered that a lot of it was appalling speculation and straight up defamation, but I tried not to think about. After twenty minutes, I finally found the glimmer of hope I’d been searching for – Owen’s lawyer.
The man had been quoted in one of the stories, so I looked him up, and then found my firm. I made the call.
It went through to his assistant, of course, and I received the same treatment as I had at Owen’s offices.
“I have some information on Owen Hayes,” I tried.
“I’m afraid we are not interested in any tips on the matter at this time.” Another automated response.
“Please! Tell him it’s Sydney Mercer!”
“Miss, like I’ve said–”
I was starting to lose hope, but then the call was cut short abruptly. A male voice said, “Miss Mercer?”
“Yes! Are you Owen’s lawyer? Can you tell me where he is? I need to speak with him. I have to fix things.”
He replied, “Miss Mercer, I’m afraid you won’t be able to reach Owen at this time. Communication is kept to a minimum, until things are sorted out.”
“I see.”
After a short silence, he said, “But I will pass on that you’ve called him. Anything you want to say?”
“Just thank him from me and my brother. Declan is getting better. And tell him that I’m waiting for his return. I’d like to thank him, in person.”
“Very well, Miss Mercer. Now, if you don’t mind, don’t try to find him, okay? He will find you, when the time is right.”
“Thanks,” I said, but there were only short beeps on the other end.