Without fail, she is here every afternoon after her husband gets home from work. She is a rock, the world's best sister.
"How are you holding up?" she asks, giving me a tight hug.
I shrug, not sure how to answer. I finally have some good news, if it can be called that. Relatively good, I could say, if it didn't mean that my daughter had to go through a grueling treatment, guaranteeing her weeks, if not months more in the hospital. But it's hope for a chance…
"I can stay tonight if you want to go home, get some real rest," she offers, just as she has every day. I usually only accept it every four or five days.
This time, I nod, accepting. “That would be great. I need to stop by the cafe, do some laundry, and grab fresh clothes."
Relief washes over Liesle's face. She's been worried about me, I know.
"Oh, I almost forgot!" I exclaim, a spark of excitement breaking through my exhaustion. "We got amazing news today. Buster is a full match for Maddie."
Liesle's eyes widen. "That's incredible! So what happens now?"
"We finally have a plan," I tell her, feeling a glimmer of hope for the first time in weeks. "They're going to start the transplant process next week. They have to prepare both Buster and Maddie, but it is action. No more endless waiting and wondering with nothing to do to move us forward."
Tears spring to my eyes as I hug my sister fiercely. "Thank you for being here, for everything. I don't know how I'd get through this without you."
Liesle squeezes me back. "That's what sisters are for. Now go, get some rest. I've got this covered."
I kiss Maddie's forehead, whispering that I'll be back soon, then gather my things to head out. Walking to the elevator, I feel a weight lift ever so slightly. We have a path forward now.
It's terrifying, but at least we're moving instead of stuck in limbo. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever comes next.
Walking to the parking deck, I pull out my phone to text Buster.
Hey, you. Not sure if you’re still here or not, but wanted to let you know I took Liesle up on her offer to stay with Maddie tonight. I have to go by the cafe and then I'm going to do some laundry and take a long bath. I'd love to see you if you're up for it—and it won't interrupt your transplant prep. xo-
I glance at my phone as it buzzes with Buster's reply. A smile tugs at my lips as I read his message.
Just finished swimming laps in the complex pool. Feels great to move. You should try it. No one is out here this late in the season.
My muscles ache at the thought of gliding through soothing water. I hadn't realized how tense I've been, barely moving from Maddie's bedside for weeks. I quickly type back.
That sounds amazing. I just might do that myself. Could use some movement that isn't pacing hospital corridors.
Buster's response comes almost immediately.
Come on, I'll wait for you.
The offer is tempting—so tempting—but I know I have responsibilities waiting for me at the cafe. I told Nelson, who has been a lifesaver in picking up the slack at the cafe, that I would meet him today. Who knows how long that will take? I sigh, torn between what I want and what I need to do.
After a moment's hesitation, I text back.
I can't right now. I have to stop by the cafe first, and I'm not sure how long that will take. I'll call you later?
I hit send, then slide my phone into my pocket. As much as I'd love to lose myself in the pool with Buster, I know I need to take care of business first. But maybe later... The thought of unwinding with him after everything is settled gives me something to look forward to.
Park Place Condominiums
8:02 pm
I balance the bags of Chinese takeout in one hand as I fumble with my keys, the tantalizing aroma making my stomach growl. I knock on Buster’s door. It isn’t latched and pushes open. I step inside and call out, "Buster? I've got dinner!"
He emerges from the kitchen, a smile lighting up his face. "Perfect timing. I just opened a bottle of wine."
We settle on his balcony, the evening air cool against my skin. The parking lot is quiet below us as we dig into our food, the flavors exploding on my tongue. I can't remember the last time I enjoyed a meal this much.