Fifty-Six

The next six weeks were a rollercoaster of pain, appointments, and boredom for Ben and Maggie, and a blur of worry, long commutes, and skipped meals for Riley. Life in the post-transplant bubble was hard and tiring with plenty of tears and a few short (pain-induced) fuses. Still, Riley wouldn’t have traded the rocky path for anything. Each day was a gift, and every night before she curled up beside Ben in Maggie’s foldout couch, she said a silent thank you for her mom’s third chance at life and the extraordinary British boy who’d given it to her.

Putting away groceries while Maggie finished her shower, Riley giggled. Ben’s favorites shared shelf space with hers: Frosties and Reese’s Puffs, smooth and crunchy peanut butter, grapes and apples, all side-by-side. In a way, it felt like they were playing house, especially before Maggie’s discharge from hospital, when it was just the two of them.

Released six days after his operation, Ben had moved into her mom’s Staten Island apartment. Maggie wouldn’t be discharged for another eight days due to a wound infection and a reaction to her anti-rejection drugs. Riley suspected that without supervision, Ben would get in all sorts of trouble. He had already been caught twice trying to lift his backpack at the hospital (lifting anything heavy could open his incision and jeopardize healing), and he regularly forgot to use the handheld incentive spirometer, a plastic gadget for breathing exercises. Abdominal surgery patients found coughing, sneezing, and deep breathing painful post-op, and this toy-like ‘game’ helped clear lungs of mucus and hopefully kept pneumonia away. To keep Ben in check, Riley left Piper and St. Mark’s Place, temporarily moving back in. When she wasn’t at her BBC internship or working shifts at Sephora, she cooked healthy meals, took Ben for slow walks around the neighborhood, and challenged him to board game tournaments. It almost felt idyllic apart from the pain meds, the ban on sex, and the absence of greasy foods from their diet—chicken dinosaurs and smiley face potatoes had been temporarily axed, doctor’s orders. But, this latest grocery shop was the last of its kind. Maggie was doing well enough to be on her own, and Ben was itching for more privacy. He’d be moving back to Hunter’s, and Riley would be returning to her East Village shoebox by the end of the week.

A text landed on her phone from Ben. Back soon x

Daily walks were part of both Ben and Maggie’s recovery regime, but today, Ben’s stroll was productive, picking up goodbye tiger lilies for Piper.

Riley’s heart sank. I can’t believe the day’s come. Piper’s really leaving.

It seemed like yesterday, Piper bursting into their narrative television production workshop squealing, “They want my puppets on their show! October in LA, baby!” Back in April, it felt like a distant promise, something at the far end of summer, but tonight, her best friend was flying home to Chicago for a quick pit stop before heading west to follow her TV dream. Riley had no doubts—Piper would eventually rule children’s television production, one adorable puppet at a time.

She watered the orchid Erika and Scott had sent over before they rushed north to Winnipeg, replaced the water in the weekly Gerbera delivery from Alex and Mark, and opened up the ‘Good Luck’ card waiting to be signed on the counter. I’m so proud of Pip, but that won’t fill the hole in my heart from missing her.

She cleared her throat and picked up a pen. Once Maggie was ready and Ben was back with the bouquet, they would be meeting her for lunch one last time.

A key clicked the lock. Ben’s back. Riley kept writing.

“Riles?” He sounded distressed.

She dropped the pen and turned around. “What’s wrong?”

“Gimme a hand?” Ben’s face was hidden by an enormous vase of pink lilies, Gerberas, and roses.

“Uh, you went a little overboard!” She took the vase from his arms. “And it weighs a ton! Ben, you still can’t lift heavy stuff.”

“It’s not from me. I met a delivery bloke outside.” Wincing, Ben reached over his shoulder and rubbed his aching upper back, a lingering side effect of slouched posture. For the first three weeks post-surgery, Ben’s abs had hurt when he stood or sat up straight, the nerves and muscles unhappy to be stretched. To avoid that pain, he’d hunch over, but now he was paying the price. “They’re for you, I think?” A small wrapped bundle of tiger lilies for Piper dangled in a shopping bag from Ben’s forearm.

“Me? From who?” Riley set the monster bouquet on the table and pulled out a thank you note-sized envelope that was nestled in the blooms. “Someone has a lot to say…” She opened the letter and started reading the unfamiliar handwriting.

“Who sent them?” Ben looked over her shoulder.

Riley turned the notepaper over. Ben squinted at the bottom of the page. “Seriously?”

“That’s big of her.” Ben scratched his chin.

“Wow!” Riley lowered the paper, dumbfounded. “I know we made our peace at the wedding, but I never expected this.”

“Bloody hell. How much did she give?” Ben whipped out his phone, opening up the bookmarked site. “Blimey O’Riley!” He showed her the screen, holding his stomach as he laughed in disbelief. “She donated ten thousand dollars! She’s pushed the total past forty-two thousand! You’ve more than doubled your goal.”

• • •

Riley, Ben, Maggie, Casey, and Piper filled several oversized armchairs in Beans & Leaves, a Staten Island café famous for its Belgian waffles. They toasted Casey on beginning his master’s, laughed at Ben’s retelling of his numerous hospital gown malfunctions, and congratulated Riley on her job news from the day before—after three rounds of interviews, she had accepted the assistant job supporting the VP of TV sales and co-productions in the BBC’s New York office. Despite feeling fatigued, Maggie grinned the entire time. Nothing was going to mute her joy. She had her daughter and her health was returning—life had never tasted as good.

Taking a break from the oversized waffle she was sharing with Ben, piled high with Reese’s Pieces, gooey fudge drizzle, and marshmallow fluff, Riley raised her fork to get everyone’s attention. “I want to say a few words about my girl, Pip.”

“Don’t you dare make me cry,” said Piper, taking a bite of her Cap’n Crunch waffle.

“I’ll never forget how we met. Four years ago, first day at Tisch—”

“Waiting in line in the NYU bookstore,” Piper interrupted, elbowing her best friend.

“Ahh, not quite! You were leaving the bookstore, yapping on your phone. Your face! It was bright red—”

“I was mid-argument,” explained Piper.

“You were stomping around in four-inch wedges and tripped over your own feet!” Riley laughed. “It was epic! NYU magnets, Swedish fish, and a bottle opener all went flying.”

“I remember that opener!” Casey, sitting across the table, wiped his mouth with a napkin. “That’s how Pip and I met in the dorms. I had the wine and a massive hangover, she had the opener—and a cast on her foot.”

“And I thought I was clumsy.” Ben laughed.

“It wasn’t funny, Ben.” Piper leaned across Riley to playfully slap his arm. “It really hurt! I thought I had broken my ribs and wrist, too.”

Maggie winced.

“Pip was crying. She never cries,” said Riley. “She had scraped her hands up pretty good, too, and her phone got flattened by an open-top tour bus.”

Piper bumped Riley with her shoulder. “This one ended up late for class because she waited with me for the ambulance. I spotted the Benedict Cumberbatch Sherlock pin on her backpack and that was it—friends for life.”

“I love how you met,” Maggie smiled.

“Fandoms rock!” Riley nodded.

“I only survived my first weeks at NYU with my cast and crutches because of Riley,” said Piper. “She carried my books and got me from class to class. Rain or shine, she was there for me, and when my cast came off, she still was—every day, for four years.”

Ben kissed Riley on the shoulder.

“She even waited outside Rockefeller Center in a blizzard to get me Cumberbatch’s autograph. Who does that, huh? Riley does! Actor crushes, boyfriends, and girlfriends may come and go, but Rye never failed me.” Tears glistened behind Piper’s false eyelashes. “I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do without you. I miss you already.” She sniffed. “Dammit! I wasn’t going to cry…”

“Oh, Pip.” Riley’s nose prickled with impending tears as she sank into Piper’s outstretched arms. “I’m so proud and excited for you! And this isn’t goodbye. A best friend like you is for life. I’m going to text and FaceTime you so much, you’ll be begging for a restraining order.”

“You better come visit.” Piper wiped her nose. “And when you’re ready to move to LA, I’ll be there, playing tour guide.”

Casey chuckled, cutting his churro waffle. “Are you going to do this all over again at the airport tonight?”

The girls laughed through their tearful hug. “Probably!”