“Why was he? I mean, why wouldn't he take their money?”
“Pride, I guess. He didn't get along with his father.” She shook her head. “I guess he must have got over it though, if his parents put him through law school.”
“Did they?”
“Oh, I assume so. That's what they always wanted him to do. They were both lawyers.”
“They're my grandparents, you know.” It was a strange thought. I'd never met any of my grandparents.
Mom snorted. “I don't imagine they'd be too happy to hear it.”
I curled my fingers inside my palms and clenched my fists tightly. If I saved Casey's life, they might be.
In the pediatric ward, Mom and I walked down the hallway, and I did my best not to be too obvious about my curiosity. A teenage boy, tall and skinny, walked by us holding on to an
IV
pole. By the nurses' station, a uniformed woman handed a crying baby back to a tired-looking mother. I peeked into a few rooms as we passed them, but blue sheets hung around the beds, hiding the occupants.
“Right here, I think,” Mom said. “Room twenty-one.” She hung back and let me go in ahead of her.
I slipped through the open door. Mark wasn't there, but Lisa was sitting in a chair and Casey was lying in the bed, propped up on a pile of pillows. She didn't have a hat on, and the combination of her baldness and the narrow, tight-sheeted hospital bed made her look both younger and sicker than when I saw her before. In the loose hospital pajamas, her bare arms stuck out like sticks, and I realized how skinny she was despite her round cheeks.
“Hey, Casey.”
She held up a pink book. “Look what Mom brought me.”
“Cool. Have you read it?” Or maybe four-year-olds couldn't read? I stepped closer so she could show me the pictures.
Casey flipped pages. “It's stickers. There's all the princesses in here.”
“Ohâ¦all the princesses?”
“Disney princesses, she means,” Lisa said. “You know, Cinderella and Ariel the Mermaid and Beauty⦔ She trailed off, shrugging. “Anyway. Mark just went to get coffee for us both, but he'll be back. He wants to talk to you.”
I nodded. I wasn't sure if I wanted to talk to him. I turned to look at Mom, who was still standing in the doorway, shifting from one foot to another. She and Lisa seemed to be ignoring each other, both waiting for Mark to come back before starting a conversation.
I sat on the edge of the bed and bent my head to look at Casey's book again. “So. Who's your favorite princess?”
“Oh good. You made it.” Mark walked in a few minutes later, a paper cup of coffee in each hand. “Sorry, Amanda. I guess I should have got three.”
Mom brushed the words away. “How's everything going?”
I looked up at him and my breath caught in my throat.
Mark smiled. “So far today we've got good news, and more good news. Which do you want to hear first?”
I didn't think I'd really seen him smile before.
“Casey's still in remission,” he said. “The doctors think she just had a virus.”
Lisa nodded, looking at me. “Her neutrophils and platelets are coming back up.”
Casey handed me a sticker of the Beast. “You can have this one if you want.”
“Thanks.”
She nodded matter-of-factly. “I don't like him. He's ugly.”
I guessed she'd missed the message of that particular fairy tale. “Thanks. Um, Casey? I'm so glad you're feeling better.” My voice wobbled a little. I really didn't want to start crying in front of everyone. I took the sticker from her and put it in my pocket. My fingers bumped up against something smooth and cool. The silver cat. “Here.” I handed it to her. “I found this. Thought you might like it.”
Casey's face lit up. “A kitty? For my house?”
“I thought maybe we could make a little cushion for her to sleep on.”
She balanced it on her knees. “He can sleep with me. You want a princess sticker? You can have a Jasmine one. Not to keep though.”
“So what's the second good news?” Mom asked.
Mark grinned again. “You want to tell them, Case? Tell them the news?”
She shook her head. Her tongue was sticking out slightly in concentration as she tried to peel a sticker from the book without dislodging the cat from his perch. “You tell them.”
“We've got a bone marrow match,” Mark said. “We're going back to Ontario and Casey's going to get her bone marrow transplant.”
There was a sudden clutch in my chest and I gasped out loud. “That's so great.” I put my hand on Casey's arm. “Casey, that's wonderful.”
She didn't look all that interested.
“It is.” Mark lowered his voice. “There's still a long road ahead, of course. But this gives her a chance, a good chance, of really beating this thing.”
“Wow.” I couldn't believe it. I found myself thinking of the poem Mom read to me:
I do not approve, I am not
resigned.
I was actually going to be able to do something for Casey, not just stand by helplessly and watch her die. “So what happens now?”
“We'll fly back to Ontario as soon as we can arrange it, and as soon as she's well enough to travel.”
Of course. They'd be leaving. “How soon can she have the transplant?”
“It'll take a few weeks, probably, to get everything set up. Once arrangements have been made to harvest the bone marrow from the donor, Casey will be admitted to hospital in Toronto for her treatment to prepare for the transplant. All in all, it shouldn't be more than a month or so.”
Something wasn't making sense. I looked from him, to Casey, to Mom. “The donor? But⦔
“Sorry, I wasn't clear. We got a match through the bone marrow donor registry. An anonymous donor. We'd almost given up on it ever happening.”
“I thoughtâ¦what about my tests?”
“We haven't got the results yet.” Mark put his coffee down on a wheeled table beside Casey's bed. “We wanted to try every possibility, but the odds of you being a match were pretty remote.”
“I'm really happy for you and for Casey. I mean, that's great. Really great.” I stopped talking before everyone heard the wobble I could feel in my voice. They didn't need me anymore. I suddenly felt like we didn't belong here, like we were strangers intruding on this family we didn't even know. “I guess we better go,” I said. I stepped closer to Casey. “Can I give you a hug goodbye?”
She nodded and held her arms up. “Bye, Dylan.”
I put my arms around her. She felt smaller and more fragile than she looked.
“You don't have to rush off,” Mark said. He was frowning, those two vertical lines deepening between his eyebrows.
I wondered if I'd ever hear from him again.
I looked at my mother. “Let's go.”
“Dylan⦔ She picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder. Then she hesitated, looking at Mark.
“Please, Mom.”
She looked at me and nodded. “Okay.”
We left without looking back, walking back down that long tiled hallway, past nurses and
IV
poles and dinner carts and visiting families. Mark hadn't tried to stop me leaving. He hadn't even said goodbye.
Mom drove most of the way home without saying a word. I kept glancing over at her, but I couldn't tell what she was thinking.
I wasn't even sure what I was thinking. I leaned my head against the seat back. I should be happy. Casey had a shot at making it. And maybe I wasn't going to be the one to help herâor end up with a dad or a new set of grandparentsâbut I wasn't losing anything either. I wasn't losing anything except a fantasy about my father.
Being angry with him was a relief in a way. It was less complicated than whatever else I'd been feeling.
I studied Mom's hands resting lightly on the steering wheel. The hummingbird's green wing tip poking out from beneath the black sleeve of her sweater. “Did you really get that tattoo when you were pregnant with me? Because of my heartbeat, like you said?”
Her cheeks flushed dark. “You saw Mark's tattoo.”
I nodded. “Same as yours.”
“Baby. Oh⦔ Her eyes were suddenly shiny. “I'm sorry.”
“Why did you lie about it? You didn't have to do that.”
“So stupid. I was so stupid.” She shook her head. “You know, you were maybe three when you first asked me about that tattoo. And I told you all about hummingbirds and how tiny they are, and how fast their hearts beat, and how their wings are just a blur when they hover in the air⦔ She stopped and smiled faintly.
“And?”
“And you were so sweet. You had your pajamas on, blue stripey boy's ones, and you had your swimsuit on overtop because it was new and you wanted to wear it.”
“You remember what I was
wearing
?”
“And I picked you up and I could feel your skinny little ribsâyou were such a scrawny kid, I always worried people would think I didn't feed you. Teenage mom, you know? People have such
attitudes
. Anyway, I picked you up and I could feel your heart beating. And I just made up that story. I think I wanted it to be true. It was a much better story than the real one.”
I blew out a long exasperated breath. “Mom. You can't⦠you can't do that. You can't just pick what you want to be true.” Although really, Mom did that all the time:
Scientists
will figure out how to stop climate change. Sheri's in a better
place now. I don't really drink that much.
She turned to look at me wonderingly. “You know, I'd almost forgotten it
wasn't
true. I'd forgotten Mark had the same tattoo.”
“Yeah, well. Maybe if you could stick to the truth from now on?”
She sighed. “So now what?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you want to see him again? Or do you just want things to go back to normal?”
Back to normal.
I figured that was probably what Mom wanted. Outside the window, the late afternoon sun hung low in the sky. I watched the telephone poles flicker past. One, two, threeâ¦I wasn't sure what I wanted. “It isn't really up to me, is it?”
“Isn't it?”
“I don't know if Mark will want to see me again. I mean, now that he doesn't need me, you know?”
“His loss if he doesn't.” Mom pulled into the driveway and put the car in park. She didn't say anything for a minute, just sat there with her seat belt still on. “Dylan? He wanted to see you two years ago. When he first found out about you. I should've told you, but⦔
No point now in telling her I already knew. “Yeah, you totally should've. So why didn't you?”
“I panicked. Told him to stay away, stay out of our lives.” She looked at me, made a face and shrugged. “All those years I'd spent trying to avoid even thinking about him. You know, when I went to Ontario to get Karma, I was terrified I'd run into him. Just being in the same
province
freaked me out.”