The Color of Hope (The Color of Heaven Series) (26 page)

His clear, observant eyes held me captive.

“You can’t change the past,” he said.

I lowered my gaze. “I know. But I can change the future, my own future, at least. I want Nadia to be the one who gets everything right now.” I looked up. “And
you’re
everything. So I’m begging you to stay on as her doctor. If you care about me, please don’t leave her.”

The phone on his desk began to ring, and I let out a breath, feeling deflated, because I wanted an answer from him. I needed to be sure that he understood how difficult this was for me to let him go. To not be with him when I wanted him so desperately.

He turned to answer the phone. I waited until he finished the call and hung up. Then he faced me again.

“Diana,” he said. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

There was no other way to say it. “But I couldn’t live with myself if you chose me over her. I wouldn’t be the person you deserve.”

I turned to go, but as I opened the door, he followed and pushed it closed. Standing behind me, he brushed his lips lightly over my ear, and I feared I might dissolve because of the electric current that raced through me.

“Please know,” he whispered, “that I’m going to do everything in my power for your sister. I give you my word.”

“I know.”

With only that, I walked out.

U
NTIL THAT DAY
in Jacob’s office, my rivalry with Nadia had weighed down upon me like an oversized suitcase on my back. I’d kept everyone at a distance, even my family, until Jacob came along and reminded me that I was still capable of affection and intimacy. And sexual attraction. He made me see that the walls I’d built around me weren’t as thick as I’d tried to make them, and I began to believe they also might not be permanent.

As Nadia grew stronger day by day, I felt as if my prayers were being answered. I also felt more whole – more worthy and confident – having surrendered to the idea of forgiveness. When I watched her sit in the rocking chair in the hospital nursery and hold her baby for the first time, I felt weightless, as if I were floating upwards toward the clouds. Nadia wept softly, and somehow I knew this was the first time she had ever experienced such a deep and profound joy.

Our eyes met, and a warm glow moved through me.

“Diana,” she whispered, “how can I ever thank you?”

“For what?” I asked.

“For taking such good care of me, even after everything...”

I shook my head. “That’s in the past now. Besides, you were right. You
did
do me a favor. A huge one. I just didn’t realize it at the time.”

She continued to rock gently in the chair and look down at her baby.

“Now I’m glad it happened,” I firmly said, “because if it hadn’t, you wouldn’t be holding that precious little bundle in your arms. And we’re going to love her like there’s no tomorrow. You and me, together.”

“Even if there was no tomorrow,” Nadia said, “I would go to bed happy tonight, knowing I was able to hold her – just this once – and knowing that she’ll have
you
.”

I frowned. “Don’t talk like that. You’re getting stronger every day.”

She glanced up at me briefly and nodded, but I couldn’t escape the feeling that she knew something I didn’t – something even the doctors couldn’t know.

“I think I’ll name her Ellen,” she said. “Do you like that name?”

“Yes. It’s lovely.”

Ten days later, Nadia and Ellen were discharged from the hospital, and I hired a full-time nurse to take care of them at home while I was at work. Because I wanted Nadia to get plenty of rest, I took over the night feedings and diaper changes. Though I was exhausted in the mornings, I loved every precious minute I spent with little Ellen, singing lullabies and bouncing at the knees while I walked with her around the house in the middle of the night.

Though I needed coffee more than ever in the mornings, I stopped going to my regular Starbucks because I was afraid I might bump into Jacob. I suppose I didn’t trust myself to truly let him go.

Weeks passed. I missed him terribly, and I had no idea what he was feeling. We hadn’t spoken or texted each other since Nadia left the hospital, though she had been to see him a few times for checkups. I chose not to accompany her. Maybe he was hurt by that...

Maybe he assumed I didn’t care, or that I wasn’t thinking of him.

Then, four weeks after Nadia’s discharge from the hospital, something happened on a Saturday afternoon.

We were sitting at home eating lunch together, when her hospital-issued pager went off.

I
T TOOK ME
less than an hour to get Nadia to the hospital, and she was immediately taken in for blood work and other preparations. Because it was a Saturday, our home care nurse was off duty, so I took Ellen with me in the stroller. I brought a large diaper bag with extra bottles and everything I would need if we had to remain in the hospital for an extended period of time.

I was permitted to stay with Nadia while she waited, and when a nurse came in to check her IV, I couldn’t help but ask, “Will Dr. Peterson be performing the surgery?”

“Yes,” she said. “He should be out of the OR soon. He’s removing the donor heart now.”

“The donor is here in the hospital?” I asked, having expected the heart to be flown in from somewhere else.

“Yes,” the nurse replied. “It’s not often that happens.”

The idea that Nadia’s new heart had been beating in another living person, right here in this building, filled me with intense emotions. I couldn’t help but think of the family members who were, at this very moment, losing a loved one.

And Jacob... He was not far.

I had dreamed of him just last night. I dreamed that he was running up a hill, drenched in sweat. I didn’t know what that meant.

“Diana,” Nadia said.

I realized I was staring off into space, pushing the stroller back and forth to help Ellen fall asleep. “Yes?”

“I need to say something to you.”

Focusing all my attention on my sister, I moved closer to the bed.

“Thank you for letting Jacob be my doctor,” she said. “I know it hasn’t been easy for you, these past few weeks.”

“It’s been fine,” I assured her. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“No, it hasn’t been fine. You’ve been very gracious, not saying anything about him, but I know how you feel. I see it in your eyes sometimes, and I can’t blame you. He’s a wonderful man.”

I swallowed uneasily. “And an excellent surgeon, which is why I want him to stay focused on
you
.”

“I appreciate that,” she said. “And I want you to know that everything you’ve done for me has made me believe in something I never believed in before.”

“What’s that?”

“The forever kind of love. I never really felt like I was truly part of someone else’s life before, but now I understand what it means, and what it means to be family. I understand because of how I feel about Ellen, and also because of how I feel about you. You’ve given up a lot for me, and I’m grateful for the time we’ve had.”

I laid my hand on her arm. “We’re going to have plenty more of that,” I said.

Her attention was diverted when someone entered the room. I turned to look, and my heart nearly beat out of my chest when I found myself staring at the man I had dreamed about last night, running up that hill.

When our eyes met, I recognized something in his expression I didn’t want to see.

Disappointment.

“I’m sorry,” Jacob said, “but the donor heart wasn’t a good match. We won’t be doing the surgery today.”

Nadia sat forward and covered her face with her hands, while I couldn’t seem to move from my spot on the floor.

We had known this was a possibility – that we would be called into the transplant center, but the organ wouldn’t be right for Nadia. It would go to someone else. I had no idea, however, that the news would be so devastating.

We’d gotten our hopes up. Now they were crushed.

“I wish I had better news for you,” Jacob said. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his. “I really wanted it to be a match.”

Nadia nodded and sat back.

“Thank you,” was all I could say to him.

He nodded, then turned around and walked out.

While Nadia spoke to a social worker about what had occurred that day and made arrangements to see the psychologist, I waited alone in a long corridor, pushing Ellen’s stroller up and down, up and down.

She slept soundly, and I wondered why all of this had to be so difficult. Why couldn’t Nadia have some good luck for a change, for once in her life? Hadn’t she been through enough?

Feeling emotionally drained, I stopped walking, closed my eyes, and leaned my head back against the wall.

After a few seconds, all the hairs on my neck stood on end, and I felt a tingling sensation everywhere.

I opened my eyes to find Jacob standing in front of me. He wore a clean pair of OR greens.

A sudden commotion erupted inside me. We stared at each other for a long moment without saying a word, then Jacob wrapped his hands around the handle of Ellen’s stroller and gestured for me to follow him. He pushed Ellen down the length of the corridor, and took us into a supply closet.

The next thing I knew he was pulling me into his arms, where he held me close for a shuddering moment. I wrapped my arms around his neck and clung to him like a lifeline. Then he pulled back and smothered my mouth in a fierce kiss that knocked the wind right out of me. Straining against him, I ran my hands through his wavy hair. The pleasure was intoxicating, and my body trembled. I felt like a starving person who had just been led to a swimming pool filled with delicious ripe fruit, and I had leapt into it.

My head was spinning; my knees turned to pudding. When Jacob broke the kiss, he held me close and whispered in my ear, “I had to see you.”

My answer came on a breathless sigh. “I’ve been in agony for weeks, missing you.”

He kissed me again and cupped my face in his hands. “I wanted to fix everything for you today,” he said. “I wanted to give Nadia a new heart. I’m so sorry it didn’t happen.”

“It’s not your fault,” I replied. “And we won’t give up hope. There will be other hearts.”

Jacob nodded. He started kissing me again, but his pager went off. He checked it and said, “I have to go.”

I backed away.

He squeezed my hand, kissed the back of it, and quickly walked out.

W
HILE DRIVING HOME
, Nadia rode the entire way in silence with her head resting against the window, staring out at the passing streets.

“Are you okay?” I asked. I glanced briefly at her, then over my shoulder to check on Ellen, who was buckled into the rear-facing car seat behind Nadia.

“I don’t know how much longer I can hang on,” she told me.

It wasn’t the first time I’d felt some concern that she might sink into a depression. She knew her limitations, and she couldn’t do all the things she wanted to do. She couldn’t take Ellen for long walks in the park, she couldn’t travel; she couldn’t apply for a job. The future couldn’t really exist for her until the waiting came to an end, which made it difficult for her to remain hopeful.