Page 78 of Out of the Blue

The elevator dings and opens. I follow the nurses into the cab. A variety of buttons are lit up and I decide to visit Trent’s father instead of circling back to my boyfriend’s side. His aunt’s with him anyway. When the doors open on Braxton’s floor, I follow the nurse to the desk. When I ask for his room, she stops, her mouth hanging open.

Offering her a tired smile, I meander off in search of his room. Standing outside, I collect my thoughts and knock. Sara walks to the door. “Cordelia?”

“Hi,” I whisper. “I’m taking a little break from Trent’s bedside and thought I’d check in on Braxton. How’s he doing?” I nod toward the interior of the room.

“He’s pretty good. A bit woozy, but he came through the donation with flying colors. The doctors are all happy with how the surgery went, and expect he’ll be discharged in a few days.” Her eyes drift down to my coffee.

“Great news.” I lift my hand. “Would it be okay if I visited with him? Maybe you could get a coffee from the cafeteria? It’s actually pretty good.”

She licks her lips. “You know, that sounds wonderful. The kids,” her voice halts. “That is, King and Melody, should be here in about an hour, so you came at a great time.”

The discovery of Trent’s parentage ripples across the entire family. “Thanks, Sara.”

After a quick hug, she leaves me alone at the threshold of Braxton’s room. I take a fortifying sip of the coffee and enter the room. Trent’s father’s face lights up. “Cordelia! So great to see you!”

Even though he’s loopy on pain meds, his warm welcome comes as a surprise. I walk to his feet and stop. “Hello, Braxton. I’m happy to see you looking so well.”

His arm sweeps down his body in a jumbled move, which I presume he thinks is smooth. I stifle a smile. “Never better.”

“Great news.”

“I wasn’t worried at all. This is a great hospital. How’s Trent?”

“Not quite as alert as you. He’s been sleeping a lot. But the doctors said the transplant was a success. Of course, he’ll have to be on anti-rejection medicine for the rest of his life.”

“Par for the course.” His hand bangs against the bed. “But that’s my boy! I knew he’d come through with flying colors.”

For want of something to do, I pull a chair over and sit closer to his head so he doesn’t have to try to project his voice. I take a sip of my coffee and put it on the side table. “So, uhm, where will you go to recover once you get out of this place?”

He blinks. “Didn’t think about it before. I’d like to stick around the City. Close to my doctors, for checkups. And I want to be near all my kids.”

I bite the inside of my lip. “Makes sense.”

“I’m so proud of him.”

Who is he talking about? Trent? Or his other son, King? I go for the safe, “I bet you are.”

“When I first saw him perform, he knocked my socks off. He has mad guitar skills, you know. And his voice is strong. He’s getting much better at interacting with the audience, too.”

My stomach flips when I realize he’s talking about his second-born son. I don’t bring up his stage fright. “Yeah.”

“And he did this all on his own. He’s a natural. TRL, I mean, TLR works so well together.” His lips raise at the jumbled initials.

I reach for my coffee, not surprised to see the shake in my hand. After taking another sip, I reply, “They do.”

“It’s funny. That article”—he waves his hand as if I should know which article he’s talking about—“said he was like a young me. They had no idea how right they were.” He chuckles.

He’s talking about what the Connecticut newspaper printed. “Guess they were on to something.”

“They were! You know what? It’s probably for the best no one knows who he is so he can gain his own reputation. No one can say I gave him a leg up.”

My, he’s chatty when on drugs. “Very true.”

He hooks his finger toward me, and I lean in. “I’m busting to tell the world, but I’m sure he’s not ready. I wish I had been there for him, and his mother. She did an awesome job raising him, but I do like to think my genes contributed at least a little bit to his musical success. I can’t wait to watch him perform again.” He pauses. “When he’s healed, of course.”

“Right.” The way he’s gushing over his newly found son makes my heart hurt. If only my father had been as excited about me as Braxton is about Trent. Hell, I would take one-tenth of his enthusiasm.

“That’s why I agreed to this transplant originally. Before I even knew I was his father, which only solidified my decision. I really enjoyed his performances and knew the world needs his voice. He’s an important musician. And son.”

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