Three
My confession has the room dropping to an unpleasantly cold temperature.
Dr. Kepler ignores the sudden discomfort. “Splendid news. As soon as he gets here, and he’s willing of course, one of the nurses can take his blood. We can also discuss the details about organ transplants.”
Greg clears his throat once again. “Our son, doctor…he’s estranged. We haven’t seen him in over a year. Last we heard, he was living in South Carolina. I doubt he’d be willing to help his brother out.” Kellie sniffles.
“Oh.” Dr. Kepler finally understands the uneasiness. “Well, if anything changes, please let me know.” He excuses himself, most likely not interested in tangling himself in a family feud.
But that’s the thing. There never has been a feud per se. Saxon and Samuel may be identical on the outside but on the inside, they’re universes apart.
From the moment I met them, there was an invisible tension there. It just grew and grew the older they got. I haven’t seen Saxon since he left his family’s farm on Thanksgiving when there was the usual talk of Saxon taking over the farm with Samuel. Saxon has always wanted his own identity, to be different to his twin—it’s just a shame that to find that individuality, he pushed all the people who love him aside.
Sam never spoke about Saxon, as I know it’s a topic he prefers to steer clear of, but deep down, I can see it hurts to have his twin brother hate him for no apparent reason. But regardless of their differences, Samuel needs blood, he needs Saxon’s blood. And I’m going to get it.
“Kellie, have you let Saxon know?” I ask, pushing down my sorrow and focusing on Sam’s survival. She raises her blue eyes and guiltily shakes her head. I’m not usually this forceful, but when it comes to something I feel passionate about, I can’t help but lead with my emotions. “May I use your phone to call him?” Kellie peers over at Gregory, who nods.
We may not like it, but we need Saxon. I choose to believe he’s not all bad. He can’t be. He’s connected in the most intimate way to the most amazing, considerate person in the world. He’s a part of Sam, and I can only hope that part will overthrow the malice.
All eyes are on me and I suddenly feel nervous. Saxon and I have never really had much of a relationship, and if I were to be honest, I would even go so far to say he’s never really acknowledged me at all. I’ve always felt invisible around him. My attempts to talk to him proved fruitless because the more I talked, the more he pulled away. I know I’m not the type of person he would usually associate with, as the female company he’s kept in the past have been polar opposites of who I am. They’ve all been tall, big breasted, and their lack of clothing matches their lack of maturity and wisdom—but that’s the type of girls he seemed to be drawn to.
Samuel never judged his brother for his promiscuity and accepted him for who he was. That’s the type of person Sam is. It’s just a shame Saxon couldn’t do the same, as he never really accepted me. But now is not the time to dwell on our strained relationship. Now is the time to act on a vow I was so ready to take.
In sickness and in health I remind myself as I step out into the hallway to make the call. My heart thrashes stridently while the blood whooshes through my ears as I listen to the dial tone.
Please pick up, I silently beg. He has to pick up.
The moment I hear his deep, rugged voice, I don’t know whether to celebrate or cry. It’s so much like Samuel’s, but at the same time, it’s not. “Whatever you have to say, I’m pretty certain I don’t want to hear. Goodbye, Kellie.”
“No, no, wait!” I screech on a rushed breath. “Don’t hang up, Saxon! It’s me, Lucy.” When I’m greeted with silence, I yank the phone from my ear to ensure he’s still on the line.
He is.
“Lucy?” He doesn’t conceal his complete surprise.
“Yes, it’s me. Lucy Tucker,” I foolishly clarify.
“I know who you are, Lucy,” he replies, making me feel even stupider. “What do you want?”
His clipped response is exactly what I needed to concentrate on the task at hand. Deciding to use the words my mother did, I take a deep breath before revealing, “There’s been an accident.”
Silence.
“Are you okay?”
I wasn’t expecting that response. “Yes, I’m fine. It’s Samuel.” My voice breaks, my courage nose diving as my eyes fill with tears.
“What about him?”
Slouching against the wall, I sadly divulge, “He’s in a c-coma. It was our wedding day today. I don’t know if you knew?” We sent Saxon an invite, but we never got an RSVP.
“I’m well aware,” he coldly replies.
“Oh?” Maybe our invite got lost in the mail. “Well, he was on the way to the church and…a drunk driver ran him off the road,” I continue, taking deep breaths between each sentence. “It’s bad, Saxon.”
Another pregnant pause.
“Son of a bitch,” he finally mutters.
“We need you here.” I don’t care that I’m begging.
“Why?” he spits, not masking his contempt.
I push off the wall, incensed. “Why? Did you not hear me? Samuel is in a coma.”
“And what am I supposed to do about that?”
I can’t believe my ears. “You’re supposed to be here, supporting your brother, just how he would if the tables were turned!” My anger is spiking, which is a nice change from wanting to cry myself into oblivion.
He scoffs. “I doubt that. Look, Lucy, I’m sorry you’re upset, but there’s nothing I can do.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I blurt out. “Samuel needs your blood! And maybe a kidney!” I curse the moment the insensitive words leave my lips. “I didn’t mean—” But it’s too late.
“So if Samuel didn’t need me, I’m guessing no one would have called?” My silence speaks volumes. “Did Kellie put you up to this?”
“What? No, of course not! Even if he didn’t need your blood, someone would have called you,” I reply, hoping I’m right.
“Don’t count on it.”
Rubbing my forehead, I know he’s right. The fact Greg and Kellie were so reluctant to call Saxon reveals they were probably in no hurry to tell him. We’re all in shock, but Saxon had every right to know the moment it happened. What he decided to do with that piece of information was entirely up to him—just as it’s within his rights to say no if he doesn’t want to help his brother.
“Okay, I understand.” I sigh, hating that I’ve failed Samuel. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
I want to kick and scream, beg him to change his mind, but I know Sam wouldn’t want me to. No matter their differences, Samuel always respected his brother’s wishes. When Saxon ignored Samuel’s continuous contact attempts, Sam didn’t press. He said everyone is entitled to their opinions and choices, just as Saxon is entitled to being a total jerk.
“I’m sorry, Lucy.”
I don’t know what he’s apologizing for, but I accept his apology. “I can text you with updates—if you want me to, of course.” As I look through the sliver of glass on Samuel’s door, I give it one last try. “If you change your mind, not about the blood thing, but if you want to come see him, he’s at St. John Memorial hospital. I know he would love to see you.”
The line goes dead.
I run a hand down my face, attempting to rub away my epic fail.
The door opens and Piper steps out, looking how I feel. “How’d it go?”
“Awful,” I confess. Today, I’ve gone through a range of emotions, but right now I just feel numb. “I have to see Samuel. He needs me.”
Piper nods, but I can sense something is on her mind—the perks of knowing someone for the majority of your life. She has never approved of me dating Sam, and usually, I can respect her opinion, but not today. “Luce, you should go home. Before you bite my head off—” she raises her hands in surrender “—I just meant how about you shower, grab something to eat and a change of clothes, and then come back when you’ve had time to digest this.”
I know she means well, but I’m not going anywhere. “I’m not leaving Samuel, Piper. They can kick me out, and I’ll still loiter outside his door. Outside this damn hospital if I have to.”
She doesn’t argue, which surprises me. “Well, how about I swing past your place and grab you a change of clothes?”
Looking down at my current attire, I realize she’s right. This isn’t really appropriate hospital wear, and when Samuel wakes, I don’t want him seeing me like this. A reminder of what was lost. “Okay, that’ll be great. Thank you. Can you please pack a few days’ worth of clothes? And maybe bring in some of Sam’s stuff, too? That gown is so…” I can’t finish that sentence without wanting to cry.
“Of course.” She dabs at her eyes, her mascara running down her porcelain cheek.
I suddenly realize I didn’t even compliment her on how beautiful she looks as my maid of honor. I remember how excited we were when picking out her pink pastel gown. The soft silk slid underneath our fingertips as we both agreed it was ‘the one.’ Her long brown hair is curled, hugging her heart shaped face, a face which I’ve loved for more than half of my life. She only needed a whisper of makeup as anything else paled in comparison to her natural beauty. “You look beautiful, Piper. Best maid of honor. Ever.”
Her tears mirror mine. “You’re the one who’s beautiful, Lucy. Inside and out.” We hug, not masking our sadness, and not ashamed for the world to know our sorrow. But through sorrow, I’ll find strength, the strength for both Samuel and I to survive.
* * * * *
Hushed voices stir me from a very vivid dream. A nightmare, in fact.
I dreamt Samuel and I never married because he was in a coma. He was drowning in a dense pool of the unknown, and I couldn’t save him. No one could. The only person who could save him was himself.
Just as I’m about to bask in Sam’s signature fragrance and wake him up with a kiss, the low voice sounds once again. “That poor girl, can you believe her fiancé was involved in a car accident on the way to the church?”
Gasp. “No?”
“Ah ha. She came here in her wedding dress. Her entire family were dressed in their Sunday best with no place to go.”
“Oh, that’s terrible. Tragic. Have you read his chart?”
“Yes. Doesn’t look good. When he wakes, he won’t be the same man he once was.”
“If he wakes.”
No…no…no!
I demand my body to wake from this awful nightmare, but I can’t because I am awake. This horrible reality is real—it’s my reality. My mind allowed me a moment of reprieve, but now I’m back—back in hell.
I fake sleep as the nurses prattle on about Samuel’s condition, each word tearing down the pillars of strength I tried so hard to build.
When they finally leave, I raise my weary head from the mattress and peer up at Samuel, who is illuminated by the soft glow of the light above his head. Slipping my hand into his still one, my engagement ring catches the light, confirming what I have to do as I vow, “They’re wrong, Sam. You will wake and when you do, everything will be all right. I won’t give up on you, on us. I promise.” My eyes are dry, I can no longer cry.
I don’t know whether he can hear or feel me, but I don’t care. Squeezing his fingers, a new sense of determination hums through my body and I vow to prove those nurses, those doctors wrong.