How to Save a Life (15 page)

Jamie laughs. “Yes, I can definitely do that.” He turns to me. “If it’s okay with you.”

I smile at him. “It’s very okay with me.”

He high-fives Logan and says, “Happy birthday again, buddy. I’m really glad I got to spend the day with you.”

“Me too,” Logan says.

“I’ll see you in an hour,” Jamie says, turning to me.

“See you then.”

I wait until he’s heading for the front door and out of earshot before I turn to Logan. “Why did you do that?”

“Because you only live once,” Logan says, “even if you get to do it over and over again.”

“Which reminds me, we need to ask the tree for one day more.”

Logan looks surprisingly sad as he nods. “You’re right. We do.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He heads toward the tree and I follow. He stares at me for a long moment before taking a deep breath, placing his palm on the tree, and murmuring, “One day more.” And for the first time since Logan introduced me to the magic of the tree, a strange thing happens: no leaves fall.

“Logan, what about the leaves?” I ask as my stomach twists.

But he doesn’t answer. His eyes are closed, his features scrunched in concentration. “Okay,” he says a moment later, opening his eyes. “I understand. Thank you.”

“For what?” I ask.

He smiles sadly. “I was talking to the tree.”

“But it didn’t say anything,” I say.

“It did to me.” He reaches for my hand and guides it toward the tree. “When the tree talks to you, you’re the only one who can hear it.”

“What did it say?” I ask. “Why didn’t the leaves fall?”

Logan just shakes his head. “Ask the tree for your day, Jill.”

I take a deep breath and nod. “One day more,” I ask, placing my palm on the bark.

The tree vibrates like it normally does, but as was the case with Logan, no leaves fall. “What—?” I start to say, but the tree begins to whisper.

“You have learned the things you needed to learn and lived the things you needed to live,” the tree says. “Now, you’ve reached the end of your journey. The next today will be your last.”

“But I’m not ready,” I say, pulling back from the tree. “Please! I need more time!”

Logan wraps his arms around my waist and I lean into him as I begin to cry. “The tree knows what it’s doing, Jill,” Logan says.

“No! I still have things I want to do!”

“I think everyone feels that way when they die, Jill,” Logan says softly. “But think of all the extra time we had, knowing it was the end. We lived differently because of it.”

“But—” I begin, trailing off when I realize he’s right. Every repetition of today has been a gift, and I can’t get upset about that gift coming to an end. I close my eyes for a moment, centering myself. Then I pull Logan into a tight hug. “You’re right. We’re lucky.”

“Yeah,” Logan says, squeezing me tight. “We really are.”

T
EN MINUTES LATER, I settle Logan into bed and sit down beside him in a chair.

“So now what?” I ask.

“When we wake up in the morning, it’s our last chance to get today right,” he says. “You have to do all the things you’ve figured out that will make the future better for other people, or it’ll be like they never happened.”

“Like helping Sheila,” I say. “And letting Merel go peacefully.”

Logan nods. “And making up with your dad. It’ll be the first of the five remaining days you have left.”

I nod. “What will you do?”

Logan smiles. “I’m a kid in a hospital bed. I’ll just stay here so no one gets suspicious. Oh, and maybe I’ll sneak down the hall to see Katelyn and Frankie too.”

“We can see them again?”

Logan nods. “Yep. The last today is the one that counts, so everything goes back to normal.”

I sit there in silence for a moment thinking about everything. Logan. Sheila. Merel. My dad. Frankie and Katelyn. But then I think of Jamie, and my eyes fill. “But I can’t see Jamie on the last today, can I?”

Logan looks confused. “Why not?”

I look away. Yes, I’ve fallen in love with the man. And in a perfect world, I’d love more time to see if he’d fall in love with me too. But this world isn’t perfect. I know that as well as anyone. “Because I don’t want to hurt him.”

“How could you hurt him?” Logan asks.

I smile. It’s good to be reminded, once in a while, that for all his wisdom, he really is just a kid. “Because, Logan, he’s already lost a daughter. If I let him get to know me—and if he starts to develop feelings for me—losing me will hurt him. I don’t want to do that to him. Losing one person you love way before their time, well, that’s earth-shattering. But having to do it again . . . I can’t even imagine.”

“I see what you mean. But still, don’t you think that when two people love each other, they’re better off being together, no matter what?”

I consider this for a few seconds and shake my head. “No. I don’t. If I knew I’d have several years with Jamie, maybe it would be worth it. But for a few days, no. I can’t let him get hurt.”

“But you can still see him tonight, right?”

I nod. “But I think it will have to be the last time.”

Logan nods solemnly. “Then you’d better make it count.”

14

F
ORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER,
after thinking through exactly what I need to do on the last today and making sure Logan is soundly asleep, I’m waiting in the lobby for Jamie. My heart pounds as he approaches, dressed in dark jeans and a dark gray button-down shirt. He’s freshly shaven, and as he comes closer, I can tell he’s wearing cologne.

“You look beautiful,” he says, kissing me on both cheeks.

I look down at my jeans and drapey black tank top skeptically. “I’m wearing the exact same thing I’ve been wearing all day.”

“And you looked beautiful all day.”

I smile. “Good answer. And you’re not so bad yourself.”

“Ready to head out, then?”

I shake my head. I’ve already thought about this. “I was thinking we could have dinner by the tree instead.”

He looks surprised. “Really?”

I nod. “There are some things I’d like to talk to you about. I took the liberty of ordering pizza. Half cheese, half pepperoni. Is that okay?”

He laughs. “Pizza is the way to my heart. That sounds great.”

The pizza delivery guy comes through the main entrance a few seconds later, and after offering to pay, Jamie goes to get sodas from the vending machine and paper towels from the bathroom while I get us set up on the bench beside the tree. Within a few minutes, we’ve established our own little picnic and are digging in.

“This might be the best date ever,” Jamie says, moaning dramatically as he finishes off his second slice. He takes a sip of his Coke and smiles at me. “So you said there was something you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Yes.” I set down the remaining half slice of my first piece of pizza. My appetite is gone. “It’s about the tree.”

He glances at the ficus and then looks at me. “What about it?”

I take a deep breath. I have no idea how to begin. “It’s magical.”

He nods slowly. “I’ve always felt like that too. My daughter asked me to plant it, you know. Before she died. The fact that I’m able to help keep a small part of her legacy alive does feel like quite a gift.”

“I know. But that’s not what I mean.” I reach out and touch the tree, comforted by its familiar humming. “I mean, it’s
actually
magical.”

For the first time since we sat down, he looks concerned. “What do you mean, Jill?”

“I mean . . . there has to be a reason that Caroline wanted you to plant the tree. Have you thought about that?”

He scoots away from me a little, his body tense. “Of course. I’ve thought through every interaction we had in those final few weeks, again and again and again. The thing is, she loved the tree that used to be here, and she wanted to make sure there was always a tree in the lobby. That’s all.”

“But there’s more to it than that.” I pause. “You know how we told you earlier about my brain tumor?”

Jamie’s expression softens. “There must be something your doctors can do, right?”

I wave his words away. “No. I’ll be dead in five days. But this tree has allowed me much more time than that.”

He looks dazed. “I don’t understand what you mean. And what does the tree have to do with it? How can you know you only have five days left?”

“The tree told me.”

“Jill, you’re not making any sense.”

“I know it sounds crazy. But I need you to believe me. I’ve lived the same day over and over and over again for a long time now. I’ve met you almost every day, and I—I have feelings for you. I also think that if we had more time, you’d develop feelings for me too. It’s all possible because of Caroline, Jamie. It works mostly for the kids here who have terminal illnesses, but for some reason, I had the chance to use the tree too. I think it’s Caroline pulling the strings, helping us to live a little more so that we die with fewer regrets. We just have to go to the tree once a day and ask it for—”

“Stop.” Jamie cuts me off midsentence. His face is pale, and his eyes are watery. “Why are you doing this?”

“Caroline wanted me to tell you.”

He stands up. “This isn’t funny. I don’t know what you’re trying to do, Jill, but suggesting that Caroline is somehow talking to you through a tree is just cruel.”

I swallow hard. “Jamie, I’m telling you the truth.”

“Damn it, Jill!” His tone is anguished.

“Please, just listen! Caroline wanted you to know this. She wanted you to know that she’s okay and that you can let go. She’s more than okay, Jamie. She’s still here. She lets me and others who are terminally ill have the chance to live—to really live—so that we can die without regrets. I’ve had the chance to gain a family, to reconcile with my dad, to learn some important lessons . . . and to fall in love.”

Jamie is staring at me, his expression stony. “Please stop.”

I shake my head. “I’ve fallen in love with
you
, Jamie. For the first time in my life, I know what love is supposed to feel like. That’s because of Caroline. Every day, she has allowed us to come to the tree and ask—”

He cuts me off. “Go. Just go.” There are tears in his eyes, and I feel terrible, but Caroline wanted him to know.

“Jamie—” I begin.

“I—I can’t do this. Please, just leave me alone.” He turns away and leans into the tree for support. I look skyward, imagining Caroline reaching out through the tree to comfort him, but I know she can’t speak to him the same way she speaks to us. He doesn’t have a terminal illness.

“Please,” I try again.

He turns to look at me. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. I just need to be alone right now.”

I linger a moment longer, but when he turns away again, I do too, heading for the front entrance of the hospital. I feel deflated and defeated. Caroline asked only one thing of me, and I wasn’t able to give it to her. Beyond that, this is my last repetition of today before the day finally counts, and I know I won’t be able to see Jamie again. It would be too unkind. It shatters me to know that this is the last memory I’ll have of him—and that he won’t remember a thing. It’s all over before it’s even begun.

I’ve almost reached the door when I hear footsteps behind me. “Jill, wait!” Jamie’s voice is low and deep, and when I turn, he’s a few feet away, his eyes still glistening with tears. “What do you ask the tree?”

“What?”

“You said that you have to go to the tree once a day and ask it something. What do you say, exactly?”

I study him for a moment. “I ask it for one day more.”

His eyes widen, and he clears his throat. “And then what happens?”

“Leaves fall. Indicating the number of days you have left.”

“Oh, God.” Jamie seems to crumple, folding in at the middle. I reach out and steady him before he can hit the ground. “That’s exactly what Caroline said at the end.”

I look at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“A couple weeks before she died, she insisted I take her down to the lobby. She touched the trunk of the spindly little tree in the corner and said, ‘One day more.’ Just like that. And then she began to cry. I asked her what was wrong, and she kept saying over and over, ‘There are no more leaves. It’s really over.’ I had no idea what she was talking about; I kept showing her the leaves on the tree and saying that of course there were leaves there. But she was inconsolable.” He pauses and adds, “And that’s when she became obsessed with the idea of me planting a tree in the lobby after the renovation happened.”

I stare at him. “She was asking her tree for one more day too. And the memory you have is of the last day, when the tree wouldn’t respond.”

He looks dazed. “But I never saw her with the tree other than that.”

“Actually, you probably did. But you wouldn’t have any memory of the day she was repeating. For the people the tree isn’t helping, every other repetition of the day—except for the last one—is erased.”

“But how is that possible?”

I shrug. “It’s like the reset button is hit each time. It gives us—those of us who are dying—the chance to get things right without the rest of the world moving forward.” I pause and add, “For example, this isn’t the first evening we’ve spent together.”

“It isn’t?”

I shake my head. “You’ve helped me try to save a man’s life several times. We’ve gone out to dinner. We’ve gone out for drinks. I’ve helped you with Alison’s party on the cardiology floor. You even combined her party with one for Logan once, which thrilled him.”

He studies me. “And every day, I forget?”

I nod. “It’s the worst part of it for me. The fact that every day, I fall a little more in love with you, and every day, you forget me.”

“You’re in love with me?”

I feel foolish admitting it, but I nod anyhow. I’ve gone too far to play it cool now. Everything’s on the line.

He reaches for me slowly, tentatively, as if he’s scared that I might vanish at any moment. “So now what?”

I sigh as his hand touches my cheek. I can feel a future that will never happen. And for a moment, my heart is as broken as it is full. “In the morning, I’ll repeat today for the last time. And you won’t even remember meeting me.”

“Then you have to come find me,” he says. “Tomorrow. First thing. Come find me and tell me all of this again.”

I shake my head. “I can’t. You’ve already lost too much. You’re going to go on to have a wonderful, long life. But if I’m in it, even for a little while, I’m afraid I’ll hurt you and hold you back. Your future should hold only good things.”

He takes a step closer and pulls me into his arms. Our bodies are intertwined now, his face just inches from mine. “But what if you’re one of those good things? Just because our time is limited doesn’t mean I don’t want to spend every second I can with you.”

I take a step back, which rips open the hole in my heart. “I can’t. I can’t do that to you. It’s better that you don’t know me.”

He closes the distance between us again, holding me tight and waiting until I look into his eyes. “Don’t I get a say in this?” he asks softly.

“Jamie, I—”

He silences me with a deep kiss. It’s different from any of the other kisses we’ve shared in repetitions of today. It’s fierce and filled with longing and persuasion. I find myself gasping for breath as he pulls away. “Give me a chance to remember,” he says.

“What do you mean?”

“Come home with me tonight.”

I stare at him. “I’m the only one who’ll remember in the morning.”

“You can’t know that for sure.”

“But I do.”

“Then what do you have to lose? If you truly believe I won’t remember this tomorrow, there’s no risk of hurting me, is there?”

I hesitate, because my brain is telling me one thing and my body is telling me another. But then Jamie leans forward and kisses me again, and the last of my common sense departs. He’s right; if he doesn’t remember this tomorrow, it will only be me who suffers for it, not him. And there’s nowhere else I’d rather be as my final magical hours wane.

“Okay,” I whisper as he finally pulls away.

He doesn’t say anything. He just smiles, takes my hand, and leads me out the door.

W
E MAKE LOVE twice that night, slowly, tenderly, savoring every second of it. I’ve been in relationships before, but it’s never felt anything like this. Is it because we really were fated to find each other? Is the perfect waterfall of sensations due to the feelings we both have? Regardless, I know he feels it too.

Afterward, he holds me close, like he’s afraid to let go. “I’ll remember,” he whispers. “I promise.”

I can feel tears in my eyes. “You won’t.”

“But don’t you believe? Don’t you believe that love can do extraordinary things? Isn’t that at the root of all of this anyhow? Isn’t Caroline granting you and the kids the chance to find love in your own ways? Maybe once you find it, things can happen that defy logic.”

“All of this defies logic,” I say after a pause. “But this, I think this is set in stone. You’re not supposed to remember. It would throw the whole balance of the world off.”

“Please, you have to come tell me all about it, then. Remind me of this.”

I listen to his heartbeat for a while before I answer. “I love you too much to hurt you that way.”

He sighs, but he doesn’t protest any more. After a moment, he says, “Tell me about Logan.” And so I do. I tell him about how I’ve always felt drawn to him, but how I realize now that our relationship is something special and that our roads were always leading to each other. I tell him how I regret that I’ll never be a mother in reality but that in a way, I’ve found my child. He in turn tells me about Caroline, and I tell him every interaction I’ve had with her through the tree, which makes him cry. Still, he never lets go, and as we drift through the middle of the night, barreling toward the moment that this will all end, he asks me about my mother, my father, my regrets in life. I’m surprised to realize I mean it when I tell him I have very few regrets now.