Changing Fate (15 page)

I’m always preparing for the worst and now that it’s here, I’m scrambling for hope. Hope is everywhere; I just have to find it. If I die, there has to be something good about it. And that one good thing, that one hope that I cling to, is that the angels in heaven will sound like Kyler. If they do, somehow everything will be okay.     

As much as Mom doesn’t want to l
eave me, she has to go to work the next morning. An hour later, there’s a knock on the door. That’s how the nurses, doctors, and everyone else announce their arrival. I’m used to it, and most of the time I don’t even tell them to come in, they just do it because they need to be here anyway. What I’m not used to is having my long lost dad step around my curtain.

I still haven’t decided what to say to him. I feel like I should love him, but I don’t even know him. Smoothing the blanket over my legs, I say, “Is this a doctor’s visit or a parent check-up?”

Dad comes farther into the room and folds his arms. “We need to talk.”

I press my hands into my legs. “You didn’t answer my question.”

His arms fall. “I’m not here about your evaluation or anything. The board meets in a few hours but this is just about me and you…and I guess your mom.” He clears his throat and rocks back on his heels. “Is she at work?”

“
Someone
has to pay for all this.” I wave my hands around then let them collapse.

Dad rubs his face. “Look.” He exhales slowly. “I don’t really know what to say. I mean, I thought you were
dead
.”

His voice catches and a knot forms in my stomach. I shrug and try to look anywhere but at the obvious exhaustion sagging below his eyes. It wouldn’t do any good to point out that I might actually be dead soon if he can’t help me. I go for a change of subject instead. “How long have you been a transplant surgeon?”

His face tightens into a more business-like, hardened expression. As much as I’d like to get to know him, it might be better to not involve feelings. Not yet. “Four years.”

Okay? Not sure where I thought that question would take me. Obviously…nowhere. “Why did you decide to do lung transplants?”

Dad’s shoulders fall and he sits on the edge of the couch. “For years I tried to run from anything related to cystic fibrosis. Eventually, I got tired of running. I started researching it and I couldn’t get enough. It became an obsession. My life up to that point wasn’t worth much and I needed a change. That’s why I stopped by to see your mom. And that’s when I found out you were gone.”

The hollow look in his gaze
nags at me, closes off my throat, and makes it hard to swallow.

“Did she even tell you I stopped by?” he asks.

Blank expression, blank expression
. Just tell him facts. “I was sitting in the front room.”

Dad cusses under his breath. “Of course you were. That shouldn’t surprise me. Your mom’s always been to the point and very open.”

Except for when she found out about his new career. She kept that one to herself.

“But why didn’t you say something?” he asks.

A heavy pressure makes its way up my throat. “I didn’t know
what
to say.”

He blinks. “Hi? Nice to see you?”

I clench my fist. “That would’ve been a lie. You left us. There’s nothing nice about that.”

Dad clears his throat and looks at the ground. I press my lips together and clasp my trembling hands. The silence seeps through me and pushes against the hard shell I’ve created.   

When Dad lifts his face, his eyes are swimming in tears. He rubs at them and wipes his hand on his pants. “Instead of giving you someone to rely on after we got your first test results, I left. I was scared and I hoped it would help me forget. But it didn’t. You were constantly on my mind. I knew if I came to visit, your mom wouldn’t be happy about it, but I wasn’t prepared for the news.” He pauses. “My chance to make up the lost years was suddenly gone.”

He thought he could make up eight years? That’s eight birthdays, several lost teeth, and millions of treatments. Even more now.

Dad wipes his face again. “After I found out you were gone, I knew I had to do something with my life or I’d slip into a deep depression. My studies helped me focus and eventually I pulled through. I got my feet on the right track and I found something to live for…something that helped me feel like I was making things up to you.”

I lift my eyebrows and
clench my teeth, afraid to trust my own voice.

“I wasn’t there for you,” he says. “But
now I’m a certified CF doctor and lung surgeon. I’ve performed multiple transplants, and I find that helping others with CF has been my only connection to you. I hope it wasn’t all for nothing…” His voice trails off and he takes a steadying breath. “I know it won’t be easy, but I hope one day you’ll give me a chance.”

His
eyes plead with me. It’s the same look I’ve seen other dads share with their children, one that I’ve been jealous of my whole life. And now I’m getting it from a complete stranger. As much as I don’t want it to, the wall holding back my resentment begins to crack. He’s my flesh and blood and no matter what he’s done before, he’s a good person now. Maybe, one day, I can grow to love him.

As long as I have enough time.

There’s another knock on the door and Ember comes in with my pre-lunch meds. Halfway into the room, she stops. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know your doctor was here. I can come back in a few minutes if you’d like.”

Apparently she hasn’t heard the news. I wave her in. “He’s just visiting.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Oh…okay.”

I exhale loudly and my stomach growls. “He’s my dad. Now please give me my pills, I’m hungry.”

Dad stands up and comes to my side. “I’m just heading out to meet with the board. I’ll be back with the results soon. Keep your head up, Kate. I’m on your side now.”

I stare at him and nod my head slightly. Something stirs inside me; it fills me with warmth and pricks my heart with a
feeling I can’t describe. Maybe it’s the first step to accepting him as more than a medical expert.

He leaves the room and Ember
sets my lunch in front of me without another word.

* * *

By late afternoon, the pain in my back seems worse and my whole body aches from being in the same position for so long. I need to walk, run—anything but sit in this bed. My eyes are still closed from taking a nap and I don’t want to open them to reality. So I keep them shut and think about what I might be missing at school.

It seems like so long ago that I went to school. Even though I don’t know a lot of students, I can picture a few people perfectly. The flirty look that consumes Vivian when she’s around Jack, Max’s puffed up chest when the teacher does anything to highlight the fact that he’s much younger—and smarter—than everyone else, and Charlie’s blonde hair bouncing as he ran from me that first day. I remember the last thing he said to me, about losing my attitude. I’d like to think my conversation with Vivian changed that, but I’m not sure it did anything.

The door to my room opens and I hear someone close to me say, “Shhh.” It sounds like Mom’s clipped shushing which means she must’ve come in while I was asleep.

“How is she?” It’s Dad.

Great. Just what I need, Mom and Dad together. Whatever they have to say to each other, they can do it without my opinion. I’ll just keep pretending I’m out of it.

Mom never answers Dad’s question, at least not out loud.

Eventually, he asks, “Why did you lie to me?”

“Are we really
going to do this here?” Mom snaps.

“Yes.” His
voice is heavy. “I’ve tried to contact you multiple times since that day and not once have you answered my calls.”

“Yo
u made your decision.”

I cringe at her tone. Dad’s got a lot of nerve confronting her, especially now. She’s going to be a lot harder to crack than I am.

“I’ve changed. Can’t you see? I’ve made something of my life. Stop trying to push me away.”

His words sting like a fresh wound. They remind me too much of Charlie’s plea and something clicks in my brain. Now I know why I push people away. I thought it was just because of my disease but maybe it’s more than that. Maybe I’m so good at it because I live with the expert.

“What?” Mom asks, her voice getting louder. “You’re telling me that you suddenly care about being a part of my life just because Kate’s still alive?”

“She’s
our
daughter, not just yours.”

There’s a pause and I hold my breath.

“No. She
is
mine. That was your decision. And we’re doing just fine without you.”

Dad
exhales a long sigh. “
Please
. All I ask is that you let me help.”

“Help with what? You want to hold her hand? Go ahead and try. The only thing you can do here is what we’re paying you to do.”

Another pause and I count the seconds until someone talks again.

One.

Two.

Three.

What’s going on? Why aren’t they saying anything?

Four.

Five.

“Listen,” Dad says.

My built up tension releases.

“There
is
one thing I can help with besides just doing my job.”

“What’s that?” Mom asks.

He waits a few beats. “Money.”

This time the silence is good. It means Mom’s considering the offer. But will she really take it? We both know she can’t afford my transplant but w
ith everything happening, we haven’t had time to discuss the details.

“I can’t take it,” Mom whispers.

“I’m not asking you to.” Dad’s voice is stronger now, louder. “I’m giving it to you. I was never the dad I should’ve been. I have a good job with only myself to support. I know there’s no way I can ever make up for the way I was, but maybe this will help you see who I am now. You don’t have to love me…you don’t even have to like me. I’m doing this for both of you, but you can tell yourself I’m doing it for Kate.”

I clench my blankets and feel the delicate barricade around my heart turn to dust. I have a dad. Here, in my room. Someone who wants to take care of me even though he’s never been around before. He’s here now and he really wants to help. If I can’t love him as a dad yet, I can at least appreciate what he’s doing for us.

His footsteps thud against the floor, crossing the room. They stop and I breathe once before he says, “Kate. You’re now active on the transplant list.”

I open my eyes and look at him. “How did you know I was awake?”

His mouth lifts into a weak smile. “I’m a doctor. I can tell what a sleeping person looks like.”

He probably knows what a dying person looks like too.
Me
. I shiver and he gazes at me for one short moment before he glances at Mom and leaves the room. 

“Are you going to accept his offer?” I ask
her, even though it was clear he wasn’t giving her a choice. I need something to break the brittle ice around the whole “dad” topic.

Mom shrugs. “I just hope they can find you a match. I
’ll worry about how we’re going to pay for it later.”

Even if they don’t find a match, my hospital bills are probably more than she can handle…for the rest of her life. And if I die, there’s a funeral to pay for. Either way, I know Dad will offer to cover any expenses.

I think of another question and try to hold it back, but it has to be said. “Is it possible that he’s really changed and wants another chance?”

Her whole body deflates. “I don’t know, honey. There’s no way around him, though, so we just have to hope that he’s at least committed until things get better.”

Get better or end completely. Now that I’ve seen Dad, it’s going to be harder for Mom to convince me to push him away. Maybe she won’t even try. If they don’t find a match for my lungs, none of it will matter in the end.

Mom needs Dad as much as he needs her. I don’t care if they never fall in love again, but with everything going on these last few weeks, I’ve discovered that people really do care, and they make life worth living. If I die, Mom’s going to need someone. She’s always telling me to find friends, but where are hers?

And where are mine right now? Hopefully they can come in soon. I need a distraction and I need their happiness. Everything here is doom and gloom. Mom’s no help now that she’s got the thought of Dad weighing her down. Without Giana’s optimism and Kyler’s ability to soothe my worries, the hospital walls feel like they’re closing in, ready to smash me—if my lungs don’t kill me first.  

I need people, and Mom needs them too.

We can’t do this alone anymore.

Dad comes in the next morning as doctor. He ups my pain meds to keep me stable and skips pleasantries to get to the details.

“I was right about the size of your lungs, Kate,” he says. “There
isn’t an exact match on the whole waiting list. But there also hasn’t been a donor with the same size and blood type for three years.”

I nod
, numbing my mind to the information. The new meds have made everything a bit fuzzy, but I can still figure out the difference between high and low chances of finding a match before it’s too late. If I’m going to die, though, I want to live first.

“Can my friends visit yet?” I ask.

Dad stumbles on an answer and I wonder if he’s trying to be Dad now or super strict medic. “They’ll have to wear an isolation gown just like your mom and me.”

Ah, that ought to be fun. “Is that a yes?”

“Do you have a lot of friends?”

As much as I’d like to sound popular, I shake my head. “I think there are only two who’d come.”

“I’ll tell Doctor Perry and your nurse that I’ve approved two visitors. What are their names?”

“Giana and Kyler.”

He writes them down on a piece of paper. “They’ll be put on a strict time limit, but I don’t see why they can’t come see you. It’s probably for the best.”

It
is
for the best. There’s only so much a bundle of useless darts and old architecture magazines can do for me. And having a conversation isn’t one of them.

“Thanks…Dad.” The word jumbles around my mouth like a foreign piece of food. Instead of rolling off my tongue, it gets caught in the middle and my brain screams at me to never say it again.

Dad seems hesitant to respond, like he couldn’t believe I actually used the word. “You’re welcome. I’ll go talk to your nurse right now and we’ll get you set up.”

Okay, so it might be a good thing to have my dad involved—not only as a doctor but as a father who wants to make up for years of neglect. I can almost hear Giana’s laugh…but it isn’t as exciting as the thought of Kyler’s caressing voice.

* * *

Word must
travel quickly because Giana shows up that afternoon. I hardly recognize her through the blue isolation gown hiding her whole body. There’s a mask covering her mouth and a net around her hair. Mom doesn’t even dress down that much. The whole thing makes me laugh and instantly, I feel like I can breathe a little better. 

“Don’t I look fabulous?” Giana asks.

“Yeah, like a bloated blueberry.”

Her eyebrows dance. “Did you just call me fat?”

The question makes me laugh harder and I’m gasping for a decent breath. Of course it turns into a cough and I have to wait for everything to settle down before we can carry on our conversation.

“No more jokes,” I say. “You have to be all serious and tell me the boring things that are happening at school.”

Giana nods her head like a soldier and sits down. “Boring is right. A new kid came in and Vivian didn’t do a thing.”

I blink. “What? Really?” 

“It may have something to do with her new boyfriend.”

My jaw drops. “She finally hooked up with Jack?”

“Nope. Seems like Charlie’s had the hots for her for some time.”

I nearly choke on that piece of news. “Isn’t he younger than her?”

“And shorter. It’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen.”

And it would explain why he felt the need to point out the details of his
friendship with her before they officially got together. Maybe he won’t care so much that I have an attitude anymore. As long as he has his blue-haired girlfriend, he should be good. I won’t judge him for it, but I need to get the image of them out of my head.

“Quick,” I say. “Tell me something else before I lose my lunch.”

Giana laughs. “Well, I have a new idea for cystic fibrosis awareness.” The way she wrings her hands and waits for my reply makes me think I’m not going to like it.

“And…that’s…”

“I don’t want to tell you everything,” she says, rushing through her words. “But I need your permission to let others know you have it.”

A knot forms in my throat and I hav
e a hard time breathing past it. “Really?”

She nods, her eyes serious and set in a way that I know she won’t back down. Not when it comes to a good cause.

The lump in my throat sinks to my stomach and I think I’m going to be sick. I’ve kept my disease a secret for so long, I’m not sure I can give her permission even if I want to.

Do I want to? I think back to the few weeks I went to school here. Most likely, I’ll only see a few of those students again. If I make it out of this hospital, school
might already be out and graduation might be done with. I’ll have to finish my studies at home and earn my diploma when I get the chance.

The only other person I care about already knows I have CF.
But there’s something else holding me back. Maybe it’s the possibility that if I live, people might recognize me and then they’d know. They might treat me differently, like I’m contagious or fragile. If they see me, though, that will mean I actually survived. And living is definitely the better alternative to them finding out because I died. Before I can back down from my sudden decision, I look at Giana and say, “Okay.”

“Thank you, Kate. You won’t regret it.” She checks the clock on the wall. “I have to go soon so I can finish planning and get everything started.”

“Already? You can’t tell me anything?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

I try to think of something to keep Giana here. Our time’s not up yet and I can’t be left alone. “My dad’s here.”

Giana freezes. “What?”

I tell her about the unhappy reunion.

“Whoa,” she says. “Are you okay with it?”

I shrug. “Until the other doc shows up, I have to be.”

“But now he knows you’re alive. That’s a good thing, right?”

“I’m not sure. He could still leave.”

Giana smiles. “He won’t. You’ll get your lungs and you can all be a happy family.”

“Ha. Yeah right.” I’m not sure we could ever have that. Or that I’d even want it.

“Things will get better.”

I decide to change the subject instead of dwell on her optimism. “Speaking of things…how
are
things with prom royalty?”

Her cheeks glow pink beneath her mask. “Like I said, I’ve gotta run.”

“Wait. That’s not fair.”

Her energy dies a little as she exhales. “I’m sorry I can’t stay longer. I really do have a meeting to get to. But everything’s good. They won’t announce the winner until that night anyway. See you later.” And she’s gone, out the door, down the hall, and into the fresh air of the world I can only glimpse through a square pane of glass.

I sink into my pillow and try to relax. The pain meds still kind of mix my thoughts together, but they can’t stop the adrenaline that Giana’s visit gave me. It takes most of the evening to clear away the image of Vivian and Charlie together. Not to mention the thought of Giana hanging up posters that say, “Kate has CF. That’s why she’s not here and that’s why you need to listen to me and help support this cause.”

What did I agree to? I toss and turn all night, and by the time I finish physical therapy
the next morning, I’m more than willing to take the sleep aid Ember offers. I wait for it to ease away my rambling thoughts and take me somewhere without dreams of school, CF awareness, or stubborn parents. 

* * *

The sleep aid must’ve worked because when I open my eyes, my world is groggy. Ember hurries to give me my meds, make me eat, and start my therapy. I want to scream at her to slow down, but maybe it’s just that my mind can’t keep up. As much as I loved the rest, I’m not sure the sleeping pill was worth swimming through thick air to accomplish these everyday tasks.

“You have a visitor,” Ember says after everything
’s finally done.

“Really? Who?”
Please-say-Kyler-please-say-Kyler
.

She winks. “You’ll see.”

My heart leaps and I almost jump out of bed to keep up with it. “How long has he been here?”

“A little while. He had to wait until we were finished. I’ll go right now and prep him with his space suit.” She pulls up my blankets and looks me in the eye. “I’m sorry, but you’ll only have a few minutes with him. Your Dad is coming soon to give you the latest report on your recent x-rays and transplant status.”

“Can’t he wait?” Maybe I could play the daughter card on him to get more time with Kyler.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Ember says. “Either way, visitors can only stay fifteen minutes.”

She grabs her things and disappears behind the curtain blocking the door. The same door that hides Kyler. Why isn’t he in here yet? My hands fidget and my legs ache to move. There’s a pounding in my chest and a dance in my stomach. My whole body is alive with anticipation.

I don’t even hear a knock before a blue-garbed body steps around the curtain. It’s like a magic trick.
Poof.
Kyler’s here. Although, I think the real trick will be getting my heart to slow down so the nurses don’t race back in.

“Hey, Kate.”

I grin and suppress the happy laugh bubbling up my throat. “Kyler. It’s so good to see you.”

He glances at the blue hospital get-up. “Can you even see me?”

I shrug. What matters is that I can
hear
him. His voice has the same effect it always has. It frees me from this place and makes the sun shine brighter than I’ve seen in days. “I’m sorry you have to wear that.”

He blinks and I wonder what his mouth looks like. Is he smiling? Frowning? I can’t tell what he’s thinking.

“It’s not a big deal.” His eyes soften. “How are you?”

The question makes me want to laugh. And I do. It comes out as a helpless, defeated sort of chortle. “You want the truth?”

He steps closer and nods.

It’s suddenly hard to talk. Usually I just tell people I’m fine…but I’m
not
fine. And it isn’t until now that I’ve even considered how I really feel. I cover my face with my hands and fall to pieces, sniffing and coughing, in a pool of tears.

Kyler pulls at my hands with his gloved fingers and I hold onto him with everything left in me. “Shh,” he says. “Please don’t cry, Kate.” His voice catches.

“I’m so scared,” I whisper. I’m afraid if I say it any louder, everyone will hear and then they’ll know.

  “It’s okay to be scared,” he says
, stroking my hair with his other hand and wiping away a few tears. “Just hold on. You’ll get through this.”

I sniff loudly. “How?”

“Well, Giana’s doing a fundraiser for you. She’s trying to earn money for your transplant.”

I blink away more tears. “She is?”

That must be her big plan. Not to spread the word just for her niece, but to help find a cure for me. Even if it’s just money for a set of lungs, it’s the best cure for now.

Kyler must see the hope in my eyes. “She already printed flyers, posters, and has links on the internet for a big fundraiser raffle event this weekend. There are companies who’ve donated and others who are matching donation percentages.”

Whoa
. He’s using big words and my slow brain is losing track of everything. But I know this is all happening because of Giana. One person really
can
make a difference. But it won’t matter in the end if the right lung match doesn’t come in time. How horrible is it that I’m waiting for someone else to die so I can live? Fresh tears trail down my cheek and Kyler catches them as they slip off my chin.

“Giana said she’ll come visit you Saturday night after everything
’s over,” Kyler tells me. “She won’t have time to come back before then.”

I’m not sure what I’ll say to her. What can I say to someone who’s done so much for me? More tears, more sniffles. “Kyler.”

He leans closer and squeezes my hand.

It kills me to say the next words. “You realize I might not ever leave this hospital.”

“Let’s not think about that. Let’s talk about what we’re going to do when you get better.” He pauses. “We could find another gallery.”

I smile with the thought of having him so close to me again. I shut my eyes and imagine his arms around me. “What else?”

He twirls a strand of my hair around his finger and my heart skips.

“I’ve been learning some French music,” he whispers. “Maybe I could teach you to sing with me.”

I give a helpless laugh and open my eyes.

Kyler’s gaze pierces through me and pulls at different chords in my heart. I never
imagined eyes could sing, but his move with a melody of their own. They sparkle through the tears on my lashes and drop down to glance at my lips. The melody becomes a symphony, making his eyes light up with fire as they meet mine again.