Page 101 of Play With Me

“Adult conversation. There’s always a lot of that around. One day I’m going to pretend I’m not listening just so I can fix all your problems.” She rolled her eyes and secured the earbuds in her ears.

Emma waited until we could hear faint music, then reached into her purse and handed me a second stack of papers. “These were removed from the files that were delivered to you. I wasn’t sure I could make it here in time, and I didn’t want you to read about this in a file. It’s about Marissa’s heart. Lola knows about you and about the accident now.”

This was the moment we’d been waiting for, and it felt unreal, like an out-of-body experience. As Emma told the story, as she confirmed what I felt I’d known for a long time, I saw it all happen again. I remembered more and more, and the image, though still a puzzle, became clearer. I remembered the smell of gas and fuel, twisted metal and death. I wanted to throw up, but I couldn’t move, and my body was positioned in this weird way that didn’t allow my stomach to tighten.

I heard cries and screams. There weren’t enough of them. Then it was very quiet as sirens overtook the area, and Sebastian wrapped Sophie in his t-shirt because I told him to save her. I told him to save my baby. I played with my wife’s life, and told him to cut her limp body. Then the paramedics were talking about Marissa as one of them took Sophie out of Sebastian’s hands and he passed out on the ground. “She has no pulse, she’s wearing a donor bracelet, and we have about thirty seconds to make this decision. If we’re not too late already.”

“What’s your gut feeling?”

“She can’t survive this kind of head injury.”

“Don’t do it!” I thought I screamed, but maybe I didn’t because no one paid any attention. I also had an oxygen mask over my mouth.

“Leave her alone!” Again, no one seemed to hear me. I couldn’t watch someone else cut through Marissa to take out her heart, but I couldn’t scream, either. It was one thing to remove her baby – a baby I knew she’d want saved – but another thing to remove her warm heart.

There was a long buzz in my ears and a new smell of iron. My head swam and the sounds blurred. I finally threw up, right into the oxygen mask. Someone was kind enough to take the plastic off my face and wipe my chin. Then somewhere in the distance, I heard a baby’s faint cry, and from that moment on, it was the only sound I heard.

“Brook? Are you all right?” Emma asked.

I double checked that Sophie was still listening to her music, grateful that I could save my girl from seeing my pain.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” I took one deep breath, hoping it would bring a mountain of strength my way, and asked, “Was Lola the heart’s recipient that night? Is that what I’ll find here?”

“Yes.”

I expected wind to blow or thunder to sound, but none of that happened. Instead, I felt peace. I finally had my answer.

“Did you tell Lola about Marissa?”

“No. That’s is your story to tell, and I’m sure that she wants to hear what happened that day from you. She’s definitely waiting for those answers and she’s ready to hear them, but she’s been through a lot. Go easy on her.”

Emma was right. If Lola wanted to put her past to rest, she needed to know the full truth.

“Daddy?” Sophie removed the earbuds and pulled on my arm again, pointing. “Why does that water tower look like a penis?”

Emma chuckled.

“I don’t know, honey.”

“Is there a vagina water tower?”

“I don’t know that either.”

“But you always know things.”

“Not all things, baby.”

Where was Lola when I needed her to distract Sophie? She’d know exactly what to say.

“We better go. Are you flying back, Emma?”

“No, I have another case I need to check out. Hug Lola for me, and don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.”

Wedding?

Then again, why not? I didn’t want to spend another moment without her. She was in our lives for a reason; that had always been clear, but not clearer than today. I looked down at my daughter, who’d been wishing every birthday to listen to her mother’s heart. Now that we were so close to having it fulfilled, I was afraid of what it meant.

The next five hours, before I walked the snow-covered cemetery path, crawled by at a snail’s pace. The sound of fresh squeaking snow underneath my footsteps alerted Lola when I approached, and so I stopped. She immediately turned around. The stack of papers she’d been holding fluttered with the wind, and I knew that she knew, but she didn’t know everything.

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