Page 93 of When We Were Reckless
Flash floods were common in these parts. Jesse lived near the river, so it would be especially bad.
My mom stood up from the island and rinsed her wineglass in the sink before she turned to us. “I’m just glad you’re both home safe and sound. Now I can sleep in peace. Goodnight. Love you.”
“Love you,” Declan and I said in unison. For all his wicked ways, Declan loved Mom and wasn’t afraid to say it. Guess he had some redeeming qualities.
He grabbed a beer from the fridge and walked out of the kitchen without saying a word to me. Typical.
Left alone, I tried calling Jesse again. This time I left a voice mail.
“Hey. I’m just… I was worried about you. Call me and let me know you got home okay. Please,” I added before I cut the call.
As I passed the den on my way upstairs, Declan called my name.
I doubled back and poked my head in the doorway. He was holding the remote and flicking through the movie selections. I stupidly thought he might invite me to join him. “Yeah?”
“Jesse make it home okay?”
“I don’t know. I can’t reach him.”
Without another word, he hit play on the movie he’d selected and settled back to watch it. Since he didn’t invite me to join him, I climbed the stairs to my room. I’d rather be alone anyway.
I changed into sleep shorts and a T-shirt and brushed my teeth. Still nothing from Jesse.
I sat on my bed, leaning against two pillows propped against the headboard, and stared at my phone screen, willing it to light up with his name.
When my phone rang in my hand, I jumped, and my hand flew to my heart.
But it was Mason, not Jesse. I considered not answering, but that would just be immature. I knew he had been the one behind this whole plan, so I wasn’t too happy with him. But if I didn’t want to be treated like a five-year-old, I couldn’t act like one. So I answered my phone.
“You made it home okay?” he asked.
“Yep.”
He was quiet for a moment, and I waited for him to speak. “I don’t know what you heard, but don’t take it out on Jesse. It was my idea.”
“But it sounds like he went along with it.”
“Because he’s a good friend, and I asked him for a favor.”
I chewed on my thumbnail and thought about that for a minute. None of this should have surprised me. After Dad moved out, my relationship with Mason changed. It was almost like he felt the need to fill Dad’s shoes. Like it was his responsibility to look after me. “I just wish you guys believed in me more.”
“We do. We all believe in you. But can you blame us for being worried about you?”
After my body rejected my first transplant, Mason had been my rock when I went into kidney failure. It was a pretty big deal to be a living organ donor. Not something to be taken lightly. While I was on dialysis, he underwent surgery and had to stay in the hospital for four days.
Afterward, I think he felt a huge responsibility, almost similar to the way I felt. He didn’t want to fail me. He didn’t want to see me have to go through another transplant. And I felt a responsibility to him to keep this kidney healthy.
Those were the kind of ties that bind. No matter where I went or what I did with my life, I would be carrying a piece of him with me. It was a privilege and a burden. I’ll never forget what Mason said after he found out we were a perfect match.
“Even if it hadn’t been the perfect match, I still would have donated my kidney to you.”
“I guess not,” I admitted grudgingly in answer to his question. “But you have to let me go sometime, you know.”
“I know. Maybe I was just being selfish. I’m gonna miss you like hell.”
“I’ll miss you too,” I said softly, already feeling a pang of homesickness even though I hadn’t even left yet. “All of you. Even Declan the butthead.”
Mason laughed. “He really is a butthead. But he’s a damn good chef.”
