Fifty

The crook of Riley’s elbow pinched each time she straightened her arm. Waiting outside Hunter’s apartment, she picked at the small cotton ball, as fluffy and white as the clouds floating free in the blue sky. But this little cloud wasn’t free; it was trapped, pressed into her skin underneath a cheap plastic bandage.

“Tear it off quickly, you’ll barely feel a thing,” the nurse had said after taking a sample of Riley’s blood less than an hour earlier.

Her fingernail couldn’t leave it alone, pushing under the sticky plastic to torment the cotton, pulling wisps from the ball as hot tears streamed down her flushed cheeks. Some slipped under her chin, others fell, soaking the scoop neck of her yellow tank top. How? HOW?!

Cheery music blaring from an ice cream truck parked a few doors down on Canal Street did nothing to soothe her anguish or blot out the joy-filled giggles of several little girls, nose deep in soft serve cones. Their mothers stood watch—chatting, happily sipping their to-go iced coffees. Moms and daughters… Envy left an uncomfortable lump in Riley’s throat as sobs broke through her lips. Why me? Why us? What did we do to deserve this? She wiped her snotty nose on her forearm, her shoulders slumping toward her denim skirt.

“Riles!” Ben’s brakes squealed as his bike shuddered to a stop. “Oh, love, I got here as soon as I could.”

Everything was blurry. Riley wasn’t sure how Ben got off his bike, where he locked it, or how he helped her upstairs to Hunter’s apartment. She wasn’t sure of anything except that Ben was by her side, hugging her, rubbing her back, kissing her hair, which was damp with tears. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” fell from his lips repeatedly.

“I can’t…I…” Tissue pressed to her nose, Riley sat down on the sofa and began to slowly rock back and forth.

Worry creased Ben’s forehead as he dug a hand through the front of his hair, a chaos of tangles left behind by his bike helmet. “I’ll get you some water, okay? Just…I’ll be a sec.”

He crossed the room and filled a glass, watching Riley over his shoulder the entire time.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean for you to ditch work.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Ben set the water down on the table and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Your text…I panicked. Thank God I was only a few blocks away.” His attention darted from her bloodshot eyes to the bandage, one end lifting from her skin. “I’m so sorry, love. I should’ve been there to hold your hand. Tell me what happened.”

She shook between sobs, gulping for breaths. “They pricked my finger to figure out my blood type. The nurse said results would take two minutes, and she began to take blood from my arm while we waited. It stung when the needle went in, but I was fine after that.”

His fingers traced circles on her bare shoulder as he listened.

“While the blood filled the vial, the nurse looked at the finger test and said I was type A positive. I was like, Okay…and? It didn’t mean anything to me. She looked in my file and…” Anger sizzled in Riley’s belly as her face grew red and sobs broke through her lips. “She…”

“It’s okay, Riles. Take your time.”

She gasped. “She said my blood type isn’t compatible.”

Ben shook his head, confusion clouding his gaze. “But how’s that possible? Don’t mothers and daughters share the same blood type? I thought it was a given.”

“So did I, but apparently, that’s not how it works. She said some people with different blood types can share organs, but Mom has high levels of antibodies in her bloodstream. That means there’s a greater chance her body could reject my liver.” Her chest shuddered. “She said I probably have my dad’s blood type. So, I can’t help Mom who means everything to me”—she gritted her teeth—“but I could help him. I couldn’t believe it. I asked the nurse to check again, but it…it wasn’t a mistake.”

“This isn’t fair.” Ben closed his eyes, fighting back his own tears.

“So, then everything stopped. She pulled out the needle, slapped on a Band-Aid—in five minutes, everything had fallen apart.” Riley continued to rock, desperate to ease the pain crushing her heart. “I didn’t know where to go. You and Piper were working, Casey’s on vacation…I couldn’t speak to Mom—not yet.”

“You can always call me, ’kay? I’ll drop everything.” Ben pulled her into his chest and cradled the back of her head. “I’m so sorry.”

“I can’t believe it’s over…it hasn’t even begun.” She hiccupped into more tears and buried her nose in the softness of Ben’s t-shirt. “It’s not fair. She even has the most common blood type…”

“Which is what?”

Riley cried through her reply. “O positive, but who cares! Mine’s not compatible…I can’t save her, Ben!”

Swallowing thickly, he rocked with her in his arms, his hand gently rubbing her back. Their embrace was silent except for Riley’s sobs and Ben sniffing his nose. After holding her closely for a few minutes, he whispered into her hair. “Riles?”

“Hmm?” Nose congested, she sucked in breaths through her mouth.

“Maybe…I can?”

Riley lifted her head from Ben’s tear-soaked shirt.

“Maybe I can help Maggie.”

“You…? How?”

“She’s O positive?”

“Yeah?”

“Well…so am I.”

• • •

Wide-eyed, Maggie sat down at her table as her daughter, Ben, and Piper—who had faked a stomach bug to flee work—served up mac ’n’ cheese and salad. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

Riley grinned, her eyes still puffy from crying hours earlier. I don’t either. How do I even begin to thank my new boyfriend for offering to donate his liver? She set a plate down in front of Maggie. “Mom’s speechless—well, that’s a miracle!”

Maggie gave Riley one of those looks only a mother can give and then turned to Ben, warmly covering his hand with hers. “Ben, that’s incredibly kind of you, but I can’t let you donate.”

Ben sipped his water and smiled. “But I want to. Look, I know we haven’t known each other long, but you and Riley mean a lot to me and”—Maggie opened her mouth to interject, but he cut her off, blurting the words out as fast as he could—“I can’t sit back and do nothing, not if I can make a difference. I’d never be able to live with myself.”

Riley’s mom shook her head. “Ben, you can’t rush into this.”

“Believe me, I’m not.” He grinned. “Riley and I talked—for hours.”

“Yeah, we talked and cried and talked some more.” She smiled back at Ben. He’s seen me at my worst and didn’t walk away.

“Riley only agreed on two conditions: one, I wasn’t offering because I felt like I had to, and two, I wouldn’t try to win future arguments with ‘but I gave your mom my liver!’”

Riley leaned into Piper. “I mean, talk about fighting unfair.”

Ben picked up his fork. “So, we called the coordinator. One of the transplant surgeons was free, so we had a wee chat. He asked me some questions, made sure I understood booze is a no-go if I want to donate, and gave me the thumbs-up—I meet the initial criteria to be your donor.”

Tears brightening her eyes, Maggie squeezed his hand. “Ben, this is too much to ask.”

“I mean, it’s early days. I’ve passed the blood type test and nothing else, but”—he let go of Maggie’s hand so she could wipe away a few tears—“it’s worth a shot, right?”

Riley leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

“Well, Benjamuffin, I’ll say it if no one else will—dude, you’re my frickin’ hero!” Piper winked and sprinkled pepper on her dinner. “This is the most romantic thing ever, saving the life of your girlfriend’s m—” Riley kicked Piper under the table. “Ahhh—well, it is!”

Ben blushed over a forkful of salad. “They emailed me an info packet, so we started to make a list of questions for Thursday.”

“So soon?” Maggie glanced at her daughter.

“His blood work, physical, and liver CT scan are Thursday, which means, no eating after 10 P.M. Wednesday.”

Ben made a face and chewed quickly, swallowing before talking. “And I’m seeing a liver doctor, a psychologist, and an ethics specialist.” He looked at his girlfriend. “Did I forget anyone?”

“A living donor advocate and a surgeon.” Riley dug her fork into her salad and exhaled, feeling the weight of the day. “It’s gonna be a busy one.”

Ben nodded. “And then Friday is a chat with an anesthesiologist. What else…oh yeah, a heart test and a MR-something.”

“MRCP, another test that looks at the liver,” said Riley, reading notes on her phone. “They said Ben should know if he’s donor material by late next week.”

Piper gulped her Fanta. “Before Labor Day weekend? They don’t waste any time.”

“Nope,” said Ben. “So, surgery could happen early September. You ready, Maggie?”

“Everything’s moving so fast. I wish you’d think about this a bit longer.” Maggie scratched her head, the patchy regrowth of her hair—once brown and wavy—coming in auburn and straight.

“I’ve done my thinking. Now it’s time to get rolling.” Ben smiled, sampling the cheesy macaroni.

“Mom, don’t bother trying to change his mind.” Riley smirked at him. “You think I’m stubborn…”

“But what about missing work?” Maggie leaned in.

“I’m pretty fit from cycling, and the doc said that works in my favor. The healthier I am, the easier the recovery, the earlier I can go back. Hunter will be cool about time off, and Stavros, my diner boss, will understand. He just marked five years with his sister’s kidney!”

Maggie shook her head. “But you’ll lose thousands in lost wages. My insurance will cover some of your medical bills, but not all, and it won’t take care of your food, travel costs, rent…”

“The doc told me about a few organizations that offer short-term financial assistance.”

“But you have to apply…oh, Ben, I don’t want you taking out loans for this.”

“I’ll be fine, Maggie—really.”

Mom’s not backing down. Riley’s chest tightened. Should I…?

“Ben, I can’t let you donate AND get yourself into debt, it’s too—”

Riley cut her off. “The crowdfunding page will help.”

“The what?” Confusion clouded Maggie’s gaze.

“Uh…” Riley winced. “In April, we started a fundraising page for your medical expenses.”

“Fundraising?”

“Yeah.”

“It was my idea, Maggie.” Piper came to Riley’s aid, opening the page on her phone and handing it to Maggie. “Sorry. I shoulda asked first.” She gulped.

“Strangers…” Maggie squinted at the screen, reading. “Two thousand dollars?!” Her mouth fell open. “People donated this…for me?”

Riley nodded.

“It’ll pay for some medications, taxis to the doctor, a few bills even,” said Ben.

“I was going to tell you…” Riley leaned toward her mom.

“You kids…” Maggie shook her head as she blinked back sudden tears. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

“You’re not mad?” asked Riley.

Maggie shook her head. “You did this out of love, wanting to help…” She fanned her face, unsuccessfully trying to curb her tears. “Come here, all of you.” Riley, Ben, and Piper left their seats to gather around her for a group hug.

Ben tried his best to keep it together while the girls found Maggie’s tears too contagious.

“Okay, let’s stop this crying.” Maggie laughed, wiping her eyes. “Ben, I’ve got one condition: if you have the operation, I want you to move in with me while you recover.”

“Uh, really?” Ben raised his eyebrows. “Why?”

Maggie touched his forearm. “That crowdfunding money could help both of us and stretch a lot further if you stayed here. You wouldn’t have to pay rent or buy your own groceries, and we could schedule follow-up appointments together, take one cab to the hospital instead of two.”

“Yeah! I’m not letting either of you take public transport while you’re recovering.” Riley tossed back her water with an emphatic glug. “And selfishly, both of you living here would be a huge help. You could keep tabs on each other. I’d worry a lot less when I head back to work.”

“And Riley would only have to visit one place to see both of you—saves time.” Piper popped a cucumber slice in her mouth, proud of herself.

“I know my foldout couch isn’t the Four Seasons, but—”

“Believe me, Mom, your foldout is better than that sad sofa Ben sleeps on at Hunter’s.” She pointed her fork. “Don’t deny it. You’re always complaining about how lumpy it is.”

“I don’t know…” Ben winced, shaking his head. “I’d feel like I was imposing.”

“You won’t be—I want you here,” said Maggie. “I can’t let you do this without a little mothering.”

Riley nodded at Ben. “She’s right.”

“I’m not gonna win this argument, am I?” Ben smiled and reached for Maggie’s hand. “Deal.”