Page 101 of Close Match
“I’ll remember that if you do,” I tease him. I spy a photo of the two of us that Char took on Christmas Day on his desk. I’d found a T-shirt shop online to make up a shirt that read “World’s Best Biological Dad.” He slid it on with pride. Char took the shot. I reach for it as I cradle the phone in between my cheek and shoulder. Was the love between us so evident even then? I wonder. I trace my fingers over his face, lingering on the eyes and dimples that exactly match mine. I haven’t seen them in the last few weeks.
I wonder if I ever will again.
It’s that thought that drives me to blurt out, “I don’t regret a single minute of getting to know you, Dad.”
There’s a pregnant pause on the other end of the line before he rasps out, “What did you say?”
“You heard me. I wish we had more time—that I could hug you one more time. I would give anything to know this is going to work, so that I could call you Dad to your face for the first time instead of over the phone.”
“Just hearing it at all…Linnie, it’s more than I ever hoped for.” There’s sniffling on the other end of the line.
“You have to promise me no matter what you’ll fight,” I say fiercely. “Think of it like some software you have to conquer or something. Figure out a way to make my cells work for you, damnit. You’re some sort of super genius or something; you can do it.”
He starts laughing in my ear. “I’ll do my best, sweetheart. Linnie, I love you. You know that, right? No matter what happens.”
Now, I’m the one with tears falling faster than I can wipe them up. “I don’t want to talk about what might happen. Only what will. Now, I have to go rest up. I have a pretty big day myself tomorrow.”
“Listen to the doctors,” he says sternly.
“I will if you will.”
“That’s the only thing I can do, sweetheart.”
“Then try to rest. I know they’re going to start another round soon, right?”
“In a few hours.” His voice is resigned but determined. As long as he doesn’t lose that determination, I think he’ll be okay. At least I hope so. Otherwise, it will be just a few…No, don’t think about it.
“Then I’ll talk with you on the flip side. Hey, Dad?”
“Yes?”
“I love you too.” Quickly, I hang up the phone. Suddenly my stomach lurches at the idea this might be it. Tomorrow, I’m having surgery for the first time. Even though I’ve been tested for this, I’ve never had a major medical procedure performed. As fear washes over me, I grab my phone and send a text to Bristol.I love you. I always will. I hope you, Simon, and Alex will always be blessed and happy.Pressing Send, I lean back in my father’s chair.
And think about after all is said and done, the day my father met me was the day he began to die.
It’s one hell of a legacy for a daughter to have.
With a weariness I didn’t realize was permeating my bones, I push myself out of the chair and head upstairs. Figuring I’ll run into Monty there at some point, I realize I ache all over. I want to submerge myself in the massive tub in his room and think of nothing for a little while.
Sixty
Evangeline
The heat is scalding, but it’s the only thing penetrating the aches permeating my body and soul. There’s a searing tension that’s taken residence inside me. The nerves that were gripping me earlier starts to come back, making me face reality head-on.
Tomorrow is the day. Tomorrow morning we’ll drive to the hospital, and I’ll undergo the procedure to give my bone marrow to my father, to the man I called Dad for the first time on the phone when I spoke with him only hours ago. To the father I might lose if this doesn’t work out.
No, I tell myself firmly. Positive thoughts. Nothing terrible will happen to him. Besides, Dr. Spellman is adamant. This is Ev—Dad’s—best chance at long-term remission. But it’s hard not to wonder what can go wrong.
“I should go find Char to make sure she’s okay,” I murmur out loud.
“She’s fine.” I jump. Water threatens to spill over the side of the tub at my sudden movement.
“Monty.” My voice comes out somewhere between a plea and a prayer; which is merely a reflection of what my heart feels when I first see him. As I take in his dark hair and chiseled jaw, I’m swamped with love. I never knew I could feel even a fraction of the way I do for this man.
He takes a drink from the glass he’s holding before setting it on top of the vanity. Reaching behind his neck, he grips the back of his sweater and tugs it over his head. His head pops out, and his gaze returns to mine in the dimly lit room.
Toeing off his shoes, he doesn’t speak a word as he makes swift work of his pants, socks, and boxers. Picking up the glass, he moves toward me, his cock jutting upward, but it’s the look in his eyes that traps me in place. I lick my lips involuntarily at the devastating sight. I’m helpless at the crippling combination of strength, faith, and devotion that emanates from him. The love he has for me leeches all of the doubt from my mind about whatever lies on the road ahead for us. After all, people aren’t perfect, so why should love be? I shove all my doubts aside, instead focusing on the fact that he’s here and he’s mine.
