Two
Blake held his daughter’s frail body gently. She’d been a toddler the last time he’d seen her. He still remembered that day. He’d looked back at her as he walked down the steps of their house, heading for a meeting in Oklahoma City. She’d stood at the door and waved a pudgy little hand, grinning, a bite of cookie in her mouth and chocolate on her chin.
“I missed you so much, ladybug.” He whispered the nickname against her dark hair.
“I think I missed you, too.” She spoke with a soft accent. He remembered her voice. She’d had a Southern drawl, even on words like cookie. Now it was more English and unfamiliar to his ears.
Behind them, Jana sobbed. Blake didn’t turn to look at her. He couldn’t.
“We’re going to get you better,” he promised, as he settled Lindsey back in her bed, pulled the blanket up to her chin and then kissed the top of her head.
“I know.” Her voice sounded thin, weak.
“I mean it.”
She smiled up at him. “I know that I’ll be okay.”
Blake’s throat tightened at the look of confidence and assurance his twelve-year-old daughter gave him. She wanted him to believe she’d be okay. He would make sure she was.
He settled in the chair next to the bed, reaching for her hand. Jana took the seat on the other side, close to the window. She watched them together. Blake tried to ignore her presence. He couldn’t. Somehow their gazes connected. More like clashed. She smiled a little and he nodded, trying not to be touched by that smile, by the regret he saw in her expression.
It was ironic, really. He wanted her to be sorry, to feel guilty. And yet he didn’t want to believe that she meant it. He wasn’t ready to think good things about her. He definitely didn’t want to still be attracted to her. Leftover emotions were bubbling up inside him as he remembered how much in love he’d been with her.
Lindsey moved, drawing his attention back to the bed. She looked up at him, her face thin, her skin sallow in the dim light of the room. She didn’t smile but her hand tightened on his. “Why didn’t you come see me?”
After years of searching for her, he didn’t know how to answer that question. Did he tell his daughter that her mother had kept her from him? As angry as he was, he couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t do that. Jana would have to tell Lindsey the truth. It wouldn’t be easy for any of them. But he wasn’t going to be the one to turn daughter against mother.
“I think we’ll talk about that later.” He eased out the words, knowing it didn’t make sense and Lindsey would question him. “Why don’t you rest?”
She nodded and her eyes drifted closed. “You’re not leaving?”
“They couldn’t drag me away.”
Her eyes opened again. “I’d like to ride a horse when I’m better. Mom says there are a lot of horses in Oklahoma.”
“Yes, there are.”
She squeezed his hand once and then her grip loosened and she slept. Blake looked up as Jana moved to sit on the empty bed behind his chair, closer to him. Too close.
“Have you told the doctors that she has family here?”
“Yes.” Jana scooted onto the bed, sitting with her feet dangling, her hands clasped in her lap. “They’ll have to test you to see if you’re a match. Blake, it won’t be easy.”
“I know that.”
“You might not be a match.”
He nodded and looked at his daughter again. He had to be a match. “If I’m not, there are plenty of us. We’ll find someone.”
“What if there isn’t one? Or what if one of your family is a match but they don’t...”
He cut her off, raising a hand to stop the storm of words.
“Jana, someone will.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “You do what you need to do. Tell the doctors. Arrange the testing. And we’ll take care of the rest.”
He got up and headed for the door. Jana followed him. Once they were in the hall, he realized she was about to lose it. She had probably been as strong as one person can be on her own. Now she looked like any strength she’d been holding on to was about to give out.
What could he do about that?
“I can’t undo what I did.” She leaned back against the wall and pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers. Soft blond hair framed her face.
“No, you can’t.” What an understatement that was. She’d robbed him. She’d robbed Lindsey. Come to think of it, she’d robbed his entire family. Lindsey’s family.
Jana’s shoulders started to shake. Her body sagged against the wall and her knees buckled. He grabbed her, holding her close as she sobbed into his shoulder. She still fit perfectly, and he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to remember how it had been when they were young. He didn’t want her scent or her touch to be familiar.
It all came back to him. He pushed it away by remembering coming home to an empty house and a note.
He held her until her sobs became quieter, her body ceased shaking. He held her and tried hard not to think about the years he’d spent searching, wishing things could have been different for them, wishing she’d come back.
Before long, those years of wanting her back had been replaced by even more years of anger, of resentment, of not caring if he ever saw her again. All the while he never stopped wanting his daughter back.
“Mrs. Cooper?”
“She’ll be fine,” he assured the woman in the white lab coat walking toward them, her gaze lingering on Jana. “I’m Blake Cooper, Lindsey’s father.”
“Mr. Cooper, I’m Bonnie Palmer. I’m the nurse practitioner handling your daughter’s transplant.”
“I’m the dad who hopes he’s a match. Can an adult give a kidney to a child?”
“Yes, we’ve had great success with adult to child transplants.”
He realized he was still holding Jana, his hands stroking her hair, comforting her. His hands dropped to his sides and she stepped back, visibly trying to regain her composure. She managed a weak smile.
“Where do we start?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“If the two of you could join me in the conference room, we’ll discuss what needs to happen next for your daughter. And I’m glad you’re here, Mr. Cooper. The sooner we can get this done, the better things will be for Lindsey.”
Blake swallowed the painful lump that tightened in his throat. “Let’s get started, then.”
Jana looked up at him, her eyes still misty. “I’m sorry for falling apart.”
“It’s
