Three Wishes (Dreams Come True #3) (13 page)

“I’ll be the judge of that,” her nurse teased as she walked in to check her stats. Immediately, Ben moved next to me. “Let’s get your temperature and blood pressure before you do anything else. Then I’ll give you the meds and leave you alone for a few hours.”

“Yay!” Ollie held out her arm.

“It’s a little sad seeing how accustomed she is to all this,” Ben whispered in my ear.

“I know.” I wrapped my arms around my body and he immediately noticed.

Squatting behind me, he held me close and propped his chin on my shoulder. “Comfort. Just one of the many services I provide. Look how much better she looks today.”

“She does seem so much better. Maybe we caught it in time.” I relaxed and breathed easier. We were in good hands in every sense. Unfortunately, I knew how quickly things could change. After all, it was only Wednesday.

***

By Friday, Ollie’s fever had returned, spiking when she woke from her nap. The doctor was concerned and the cultures were still in the growing stage. Nothing had proclaimed itself.

“Clearly, she has another infection. We’re working on it. I’ll let you know as soon as I know something.” The doctor patted her on the shoulder and started to leave the room, but Ben stopped him.

“I’m new to all this. There’s so much I don’t understand. Can I ask you some questions?” Ben folded his arms across his chest and rocked on his feet while he waited.

The doctor glanced at me. “Do I have your permission to talk about Olivia with him?” He gestured to Ben.

I nodded and murmured, “Of course.” Then I wheeled over to Ollie’s side and held her hand while they disappeared out into the hall. I really appreciated the Ben’s interest. It was nice having someone to talk to about all my thoughts and fears. If he understood the medical side, all the better.

Roughly twenty minutes later he returned with a snack, drinks, and furrowed brow. “Thank you.” I forced a smile as Ben passed me a mocha and a slice of chocolate cake. “Trying to fatten me up.”

“Nope, I was trying to cheer you up. Chocolate always helps.” He leaned over and kissed me, staring into my eyes for a moment as he pulled back.

I nodded. “Ah, turning me into an emotional eater.”

Ben took a bite of cake and touched the fork to his lips while he chewed. When he finished, he shared what he had been pondering. “So, Ollie is nearing the end of treatment.”

“Right.” I frowned. “Of course, this is a setback, but she needs to be healthy and in remission so she can get stem cell therapy.”

“Okay, have they found a donor for the bone marrow?” Ben sat across from me and took a big gulp of his mocha while we talked.

“No. I wasn’t a match. I don’t know how to find her father. And I’m not speaking to my family, really. So far there’s no match on the registry.” I could feel tears stinging my eyes.

“Babe,” Ben began quietly, “don’t cry. We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

“I’m just so tired of hospitals and being so scared all the damn time. I’m worn out. Completely and utterly broken.” The familiar rivers began to flow down my cheeks. “I don’t like crying. I’m sick of being the Crying Girl.” I shook my head sadly. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

He passed me a fresh handkerchief. “Let me. I have some ideas. Will you please let me post about Ollie? I’ll give you full approval before it goes live.” Ben had set his cup down and was rubbing his hands together. I recognized what he was going through. He wanted to fight the helpless feeling by actually doing something.

“I’m sure Ollie would love that. Yes, please.” Then I dried my tears and hoped as always I’d never have cause to cry in front of him again.

Chapter Thirteen

Ben

Even though it was late by the time I returned from the hospital, I couldn’t sleep. Instead, I went to work on the post about Ollie. Through the years, all my subjects have interested me, but this time as I edited the videos I’d taken at the hospital and wrote, it was different, more intense. I had a personal stake in this. For once, I wasn’t simply sharing. My post was a call to action.

When I had spoken to the doctor, we’d talked in hypotheticals. What if we held a donor drive? If we did, how would I go about it? That kind of thing. Before I left the hospital, I spoke to people who put me in touch with organizers. Next thing you know, it was happening.

Among my friends, I’d always been the one who put the cogs in motion. Then I’d sit back and film it, never take any credit because that wasn’t my style. I let Sebastian and Gabriel stand in the spotlight while I recorded everything for posterity. Now, I was doing it again. Only this had little to do with our dinner plans or vacations. This was my entire life.

Around three in the morning, I had finished. After viewing it multiple times, I was pleased with the finished product. The movie opened with clips of Ollie from happier times, drawing in her journal, learning to use a video camera. I had footage of her with the Easter bunny, and interacting with her mother. Then it grew more serious as I shared her sick and sleeping in her hospital bed while Charlie looked on sad, scared, and sometimes crying as she spoke with the doctor. It felt powerful, gut wrenching. At least, it wrecked my gut.

Then I wrote a surprisingly eloquent post. It shocked even me. I reread it a few times before sending everything to Charlie via email.

Meet Charlie and Ollie, mother and daughter, a team of two against the world, but especially against leukemia. While I meet most of the faces on this blog in the street, I met them at home. I was sent to make Ollie’s wish come true.

This sweet almost six-year-old girl wanted to learn how to make movies and they seemed to think I might be a nice fit for the wish. Everything about this task scared me because like so many people, I’m not good with death, dying, and the chronically ill. Blame it on my childhood. Ah, but this isn’t about me. This is all about Ollie.

See, I thought I was there to teach her, but the truth is, she taught me too. From Ollie, I’ve learned to cherish the little things, like being able to go outside, eat in restaurants, and work nearly tirelessly because she can do none of these things. Every day is about staying healthy, avoiding germs, and getting enough rest so she can stay healthy and avoid germs…you get the idea.

Though her beautiful bald head alerts the world of her sickness, her incredible smile and zeal for making movies made me forget how medically fragile she was until a few days ago. Now Ollie’s in the hospital battling multiple infections, at least one of which hasn’t been identified yet. I’ve grown more comfortable with death, dying, and sickness now, but I refuse to accept a potentially negative outcome. Not now. Not for Ollie. I haven’t finished granting her wish yet. And she has a big life she has yet to live.

If you could, please think of her, or pray, or do whatever it is you do when you open your hearts and minds and make a wish for a stranger. Think of Ollie and Charlie, the mother who would be lost without her. And if all that thinking and praying moves you to action, please share and participate in the donor drive that could save not just the little girl I love, but countless others as well.

While I waited for a response from Charlie, I rubbed my blurry eyes and saved the draft of the post. Then I plopped down on the couch, kicked off my shoes, and pulled the throw over me. The couch was the place I felt closest to Charlie. I simply couldn’t bring myself to sleep in that bed.

At seven in the morning, after barely four hours of sleep, my phone woke me up. It was Professor Morceau. Confused and still exhausted, I struggled to answer the phone. “Hello,” I mumbled.

“Yes, good morning, Ben,” Professor Morceau began in a low voice. “I thought I’d check in and see how things were going.”

“Oh, fine. Ollie’s sick right now, so we’ll pick up the filming and editing lessons when she feels better, but otherwise we all hit it off okay.” I stretched on the couch.

“I see.” He was silent a moment. “How bad is it?”

“Well, she needs a bone marrow donor. And to get healthy.” I sat up and rubbed the back of my neck as we spoke and tried to downplay it. His questions were making me uncomfortable.

“Well, it just seemed like from your blog…” His voice trailed off and I could almost hear alarm bells going off in my head.

Instead, it was the sound of my text messages chiming and out of control. “Could you hold on for one moment?”

“Of course,” Professor Morceau mumbled.

Pulling the phone away from my ear, I discovered I had four text messages from Charlie, each one angrier than the last.

Charlie: How could you?

Charlie: You said I could approve it!

Charlie: How dare you post without giving me a chance to respond!

Charlie: Stay away from me, Ben. I hate you right now.

Yup. That ought to do it.

“Professor Morceau, I need to let you go for right now. Thank you for checking in on me.” Then I hung up without waiting for his response because apparently that’s how I roll. I just do what I want without ever thinking about anyone else, according to Charlie. Dammit.

Opening the laptop, I logged into the blog admin and realized immediately what I’d done. Hours earlier, exhausted as I was, I had hit publish instead of draft. I’d messed everything up because I’d worked up a preview for Charlie. Shit, I wasn’t accustomed to needing anyone’s approval. It was an honest mistake. And she was honestly going to make me pay for it.

Leaning back in my chair, I rubbed my eyes and considered how to best approach this situation. She couldn’t really mean she hated me, could she? More importantly, she wouldn’t really want me to stay away, would she? Well, I wasn’t going to risk calling her. I’d go about my usual routine, a workout, followed by a hot shower, and a protein shake. Then I’d rush off to her place to pick up her mail, hit a drive thru so she had food, and then discuss everything with her at the hospital. I sighed. Maybe I should also hit a florist on the way. And a Godiva Chocolates. There were only so many ways I could say I’m sorry and try to make it up to her at the hospital.

It was a great plan, but naturally I hit a snafu the minute I picked up my phone again. There were roughly eighty-seven new emails waiting for me. Now, I get plenty of emails, but this number was particularly high for a Saturday. Curiosity got the better of me, so I sat down to sort through them. Blog readers. Almost every single one of them came from a blog reader. And they were dying to help out any way they could. They’d see me at the donor drive. Could I tell them where to donate money too?

Knowing how Charlie struggled financially, I don’t know why it never occurred to me to set up a special account for her. Apparently, I’m an idiot. Immediately, I remedied the situation. It only took me a few minutes to set up a PayPal account for them using my personal email as the main one and adding hers for access. In a matter of time, we’d be able to get her a debit card for it and even link it to her bank account. With people donating as friends and family, she wouldn’t even lose money to fees. Then I added a donate button to my post. Finally, I copied all the email addresses and sent them a thank you email and notified them of the PayPal button on the post.

Finally, I’d been able to find a way to help my girls. Feeling so much better than I had before, I finished getting ready to leave. This was even better than granting Ollie’s wish. I might just be able to help save her life and Charlie’s.

***

Charlie

I was furious. My blood was positively boiling. Ben sent me the preview, but published the post without waiting to hear from me. As upset as I was in the moment, I may have sent off a text or four to express my fury. Only as with pretty much everything else in my life, I really didn’t even think this through. I mean, what did I think was going to happen next? It’s not like I expected him to grovel at my feet, beg for forgiveness, although, in all honesty, that is pretty much what I wanted. I could be reasonable, given time and with the proper handling. No one had quite mastered that, although Ben had come closer than any other, ever.

Now, I was back to watching the clock while I worried I had scared him away. Oh my gawd, what if I scared him away? Here he was, the first guy to be in Ollie’s life and mine for…well, ever. He had been nothing but nice to me. Shoot, he even blew the cobwebs out of my business. I covered my mouth to hide a smile as I recalled our nights of passion, however awkward, on the floor.

Could it all be over now because I couldn’t control my temper? Already it was past nine, his usual time. The past few days he’d arrived just as visiting hours began. Today there was no sign of him. He hadn’t even texted in response to my rants. I rolled over to the window and stared out sadly. I’d done it this time. When Ollie woke up, how was I supposed to answer the first question she always asked: when will Ben get here?

Needless to say, when he strolled in minutes before ten in the morning, nearly hidden behind a bouquet of flowers, a teddy bear, and a box of Godiva chocolates, I nearly collapsed in relief.

“Ben, is that you?” Ollie spoke quietly but there was no denying the hint of excitement in her voice.

Ben set the flowers on the window sill beside me. “These are for you.”

I stared first at the flowers, then at him, and then back to the roses. They were pink and gorgeous. I’d never been given flowers before. This was a landmark moment. My jaw dropped.

“Stop begging,” he teased. “These are yours too.” He passed me a huge box of truffles. As I held them on my lap with my eyes prickling with tears, he squatted beside me and gave me a tender kiss. “Can I talk to Ollie for a minute?”

I nodded and sniffled. “Sure.”

With a chuckle, Ben pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. “And I guess this is for you also.” Then he stood and waltzed over to Ollie. “I thought you might like a friend to share your bed with. How about this guy?”

“Well, it’s no kitten.” She shot a look at her mother. “But I love it, Ben. Thank you.” Ollie hugged the bear close and shut her eyes.

“Olls, would you prefer a stuffed kitten?” Ben frowned as if he’d made a huge mistake.

“No, she’d prefer a real kitten,” I grumbled.

Ben turned to face me while Ollie rested. “Oh, but she can’t for medical reasons.” He nodded as if he understood.

With a sigh, I shook my head. “It’s not that.” I gestured about the room. “Who knows how long we’ll be here? We have no one to care for a kitten when we’re in and out of the hospital all the time.”

“So it’s simply not practical right now.” He sank down on the window bed and stared at me seriously. “Listen, I need to explain about the post.”

That’s when I remembered I was mad. I glowered at him. No need to let him think he’d bought me off with these beautiful flowers and amazing truffles. I wasn’t going to be that girl…but flowers and chocolate. Damn, he knew how to make it tough. “So start explaining.” I crossed my arms over my chest so he understood how serious I was because I know I wasn’t channeling my inner fury to the best of my ability.

“Last night, I sent you the link and everything and I had to change the mode in the admin menu. It messed me up. I was exhausted. And…apparently I hit publish instead of save draft. I’m really sorry.” His eyes sparkled as he spoke and I couldn’t help but think something was going on.

“Why don’t you look sorry?” I licked my lips and leaned back.

“Okay, so…I was on the phone with my professor when you texted.” Ben was practically bouncing on the seat, but all I heard was ‘professor.’

“Which professor?” My eyes narrowed.

“Professor Morceau. Anyway…I rushed to get off because of your texts and then when I was getting ready my phone was blowing up.” His excitement was obvious, but I was finally able to channel that inner fury I’d had trouble finding earlier. Unable to run, I pushed off on the wall and rolled toward the bathroom door, determined to lock myself in until I managed to get these emotions under control. “Wait. What did I say?” He stood and helped me open the bathroom door I was currently struggling with.

“You talked to my father. Did he call or did you?” I was so angry I was practically foaming at the mouth.

Ben shook his head. “Professor Morceau is your father?” He leaned hard against the bathroom door and it slammed shut. I watched as his face darkened.

“What’s wrong?” I wrapped my arms around my body, quickly regressing to my old habit.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Ben frowned down at me. “He called me. You don’t talk to him much, do you?”

I frowned and shook my head. “No. He sided with my mother. She kicked me out. We didn’t have much to say after that.” I turned away from him and stared at Ollie resting peacefully on the bed. “He hasn’t met Ollie. I didn’t even tell him her name.” I moved to stare up at him from my seat. “I’m pretty sure, other than a few recent text messages, that you’ve seen practically all of our interactions since I left.” I shrugged.