Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 124135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
“Well then,” East said, lying down next to me. “I’d better not hit him again.”
I couldn’t help it. I had to laugh. Easton smiled, showing me a glimpse of the happy brother I loved. “He’s a good guy. He’s turned out to be a good friend.” Easton lowered his eyes. “I kind of lost it tonight, Bonn. About you.”
“East…” I said softly, devastation stealing any other words I could offer as a comfort.
“But he was there for me. He sat beside me and let me get it all out. He never moved; instead he sat by my side and told me how strong you are and how it’s gonna be all right.”
“He did?”
Easton nodded. “And he meant it, Bonn. I saw it on his face.” He stared at me, and I couldn’t read his expression. “He loves you.” It was the second time he’d uttered those words, and my heart still gave the same response. Miraculously, it raced. “I always worried about you, sis. You never had a social life. Never had a boyfriend. Christ, I didn’t even think you’d ever been kissed. Too busy fighting to stay alive.” I blushed. “But I’m glad you’ve found him now.” He held my hand, and he held on tight. “When it’s hardest. He’ll help you get through it.”
“You all will,” I said. “You, Mama, Papa and Cromwell.” I brushed my hair from my face. “I feel like I can do it. I can hold on until a new heart saves me.” I didn’t let myself mention the chance of heart rejection or the million other things that could go wrong even if I was given a heart. I couldn’t think of that, or I wasn’t sure I could keep up the fight.
Tiredness crept over me like a lulling wave. “Are you coming to the hospital with me tomorrow?”
“Of course,” Easton said. My eyes began to close. But I still felt my brother beside me. He wouldn’t leave my side. As sleep took me, hope hung heavy in the air. It sounded like a cello and a violin. I wondered what Cromwell would see.
Me, I hoped. I prayed that Cromwell would think of hope and see my face.
Because I thought of him. Cromwell Dean brought with him hope. And right now, it was the most important thing in my world.
* * *
“Accelerated failure…” The doctor’s voice faded in and out of my ears as he put the scan pictures from yesterday on a board for my parents to see.
My attention drifted out of the window to the birds in the sky. I wondered where they were flying to. I wondered what it was like to fly. To soar through the sky, the air under your wings.
“Bonnie?” Doctor Brennan’s voice cut through my musings. I rolled my head on the pillow to face him. I saw the sadness in my mama’s and papa’s faces. Easton stood, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed across his chest, his eyes lost as they stared at the floor.
“Bonnie?” Doctor Brennan said. “Do you have any questions?”
“How long before I can’t play music anymore?”
I heard my mama’s soft cry, but I held the doctor’s stare. He had the answers.
“It won’t be long, Bonnie. Your limb function is already compromised.” I looked down to my fingers and saw the swelling that had started to creep in weeks ago but was now here, inhibiting my ability to play. I breathed, my inhales and exhales choppy.
“About a month,” I had heard Doctor Brennan say. “Six weeks at most.”
It was strange, getting a time frame on your life. To no longer count it in years but in weeks, in days, and even hours.
“Sweetheart?” Mama ran her hand over my head. I looked up at her. “They’re gonna be bringing some things to the house for you. Things to help you breathe and be more comfortable.”
“Can we go home now?” I said, not even acknowledging what she’d said. I didn’t want to.
“Yes.” My mama went to the closet to get my clothes. I dressed, and I sat in the wheelchair as they pushed me out of the hospital. I closed my eyes as the sun hit my face, feeling its rays on my skin.
I wasn’t in the sun long enough before we were in the car and on the way home. The car was silent as we left Charleston and made our way back to Jefferson. I looked at my papa, his hands tightly holding the wheel. I glanced at my mama in front of me; she was looking out of the window.
Easton was next to me. His eyes were downcast and every muscle was tight. I sighed, closing my eyes. I hated how this affected everyone I loved.
“Accelerated failure…”
The words spun around my head like bullets, but I was numb to their hits. I laid my hand over my chest and felt my heart against my palm. As always, it beat to its own drum, one of tiredness and exhaustion. One of attempts to hold on when all it wanted to do was let go.