The Wedding Plan. Abby Gaines
said. “I know you’re not a match, Ms. Wyatt, but are there any other relatives or friends who might agree to being tested?”
“I will,” Lucas said.
Merry caught her breath. “You’d do that? For Dad?”
“Your dad saved my dad’s life. Time the Calders returned the favor.”
The doctor looked confused. “So…this isn’t your husband?”
“No!” They spoke almost in unison, with Merry just a tad faster.
“What blood type are you?” Dr. Randall asked Lucas. “That’s the first thing to consider before we move ahead to any tests.”
“I’m A positive. What do you need?” As if he could change his blood type to suit.
“I’m sorry.” The doctor told him what Merry already knew. “Mr. Wyatt is type O, so we need an O donor.”
“Maybe my father’s a match.” Lucas offered up one of Dwight’s kidneys without hesitation.
“Your dad already got tested back when Dad had to move off hemodialysis,” Merry said. “And Dwight made such a fuss about Stephanie doing it, she backed down. I think we’ve exhausted our pool of related donors,” she told the doctor. “Has Dad moved up the general transplant list?”
“It’s not a list, as such,” the doctor said. “Patients are assigned points based on several criteria. But, yes, your father has more points than he did yesterday.” She scrubbed at her eyes with her hands, looking exhausted. Merry almost forgave her the comment about a “gentle” death.
After the physician left, Merry realized Lucas’s arm was still around her. She moved away. “Lucas, thank you for offering to get tested. That was—” Her throat clogged.
“A safe bet,” he said with a shrug. “What were the odds I’d end up a match?”
But she knew he’d meant it. Merry found herself scrubbing her eyes the same way the doctor had. “Where am I going to get a kidney?” she said. “Could I buy one on eBay?” She was joking, but only just.
“Too Third World,” he said. “Better to stake out the blood donor clinic, figure out who’s a match, then run them over in the parking lot.”
She managed a watery smile. “Great idea.”
“The challenge is not to kill them,” he mused, “but to get them into the hospital close enough to death for the kidney to be available stat.”
“Okay, now you’re scaring me.”
The nurse stuck her head around the door again. “Ms. Wyatt, you can see your father now. Ten minutes, just one of you.” She spoke to Merry, but looked at Lucas.
Merry jumped to her feet. “At last. Thank you.”
Lucas put a hand on her arm, stalling her. “Merry…if the doctor’s right, and your father doesn’t have much time, you probably need to tell some people. Folks who want to say goodbye. I could leave now, go make some calls.”
The room swam for a moment and she grasped the back of the chair she’d just vacated. “His friends,” she murmured. “Old navy buddies. If we ask your father and a couple of others to pass the word along… Dad will tell me who to speak to. I’ll text you.”
“Family?”
She shook her head. “He has cousins in England, but it’s only the younger generation left. We’re not in touch.”
It sounded so lonely. So sad. Yet it hadn’t been, not when there’d been the two of them.
But in a few days, it would be only Merry.
* * *
MERRY’S FATHER’S ROOM was a hive of monitors, wires, tubes. He took up most of the length of the bed, but little of the width. His eyes were open, unblinking, and for a horrified moment she thought he—
“Merry-Berry,” he rasped.
She rushed forward, looking for some part of him she could hold on to without ripping out a tube, or hurting him. There was nothing, no part of him untouched, except for the callused fingers of his right hand.
She sandwiched them between her palms. “Dad, you…” Slow down, don’t upset him. “You gave me a scare.”
His chuckle sounded like air leaking out of a balloon…but at least it was there. Maybe the doctor was wrong.
“When you get out of here, I’m going to monitor every dialysis session, whether you like it or not,” she vowed.
“Yes, dear,” he said with a faint smile. But his eyes said he knew he wouldn’t be getting out of here.
To her horror, a tear leaked out of the corner of his right eye and ran onto the pillow. “Dad, please…”
His fingers twitched between hers. “Merry…the lawyer has a copy of my will.”
“The doctor says you’ve moved up in the transplant points,” Merry said. “You could get a new kidney any minute.”
“It’s pretty straightforward. Everything to you, except for a small bequest to the VVA.” Her dad was a longtime supporter of the Vietnam Veterans of America.
“We’ll get you through this,” she said. “I’m not letting you go, Dad.”
“I’m not worried about you financially,” he persisted. “You’ll do nicely by selling the business. But…Merry-Berry, I think I made a mistake.”
She blinked away tears. “Dad, it’s so hard to avoid infection when you’re on dialysis, anyone could—”
“Not that,” he said. “After your mother died, I should have— Maybe I should have married again.”
Merry straightened, shocked. “No, Dad. You always said you could never love anyone else.”
“Maybe I should have tried. Then I wouldn’t be leaving you alone.” John tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. “I wish I had met someone else, like Dwight did. But I didn’t even try.”
“I never wanted a stepmother,” Merry said. She thought about Lucas’s brother, Garrett, who until recently had considered Stephanie his enemy. A stepmother she hated would have been far worse than no one at all. “I’ve loved it being just you and me. And I love your stories about Mom, and about how you two met and fell in love.”
Her father’s chin quivered. Barely noticeable, but it was there. Amazing that the memory of her mother still had the power to affect him like that.
“I hate the thought of you being alone,” he said. His fingers fluttered in her grip. “Merry, this has been on my mind for a while.”
If he’d been thinking about it, he’d obviously sensed he was sicker than he’d let on. Was his worry about her future the cause of those “trances” she occasionally found him in? The reason for the stress that had sent his high blood pressure over the edge?
“I’ll be just fine.” Her attempt at reassurance came out thin and unconvincing. Her dad was everything, everyone, to her. She had friends, boyfriends…but no one who put her first in their life. “I—I love you, Dad. So much.” She dug in her pocket for a tissue, blew her nose. “Please, don’t worry about me, just concentrate on getting better.”
A stupid thing to say.
He nodded. But another tear leaked onto his pillow, and then another. And now her tissue was all snotty.
“You’ve been wonderful, the way you’ve looked after me,” he said. “Never interfering or pushy, but making sure I was doing my dialysis, getting regular checkups.”
“I haven’t done anything,” she said. “You wouldn’t let me.”
He