Millionaires' Destinies(140)

Mack studied her worriedly. There was no color in her cheeks, and her eyes were dulled by fatigue and anguish. Her demeanor might be calm and professional, but he didn’t think it could possibly be healthy. She had to be as torn up by the news as he was.

Jason caught his eye and gestured for him to join them. Mack walked up beside Beth, put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and squeezed. She gave him a quick, grateful glance, but her eyes were haunted.

When Beth went back to her consultation with the other doctors, Mack looked down the hall and spotted Maria Vitale outside of Tony’s door, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs, her forehead resting against the cool tiles on the wall. He’d never seen anyone look so utterly sad and alone. Because there was nothing he could do here at the moment, he decided to go offer his support to Maria.

He leaned down and whispered to Beth that he was going to speak to Maria. “I’ll be right there if you need me.”

Again she regarded him with gratitude, but her focus remained with the other doctors.

Reluctantly Mack left her and went to Tony’s mother. He spoke softly. “Maria?”

She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. “Oh, Mack, I’m so glad you’re here. I don’t think I can bear it. He’s giving up. He told me you would understand, that you would make me see that it’s time for him to let go, but I can’t let him do that. He’s my baby. How can I let him go?”

Mack hadn’t spent nearly enough time in church, had never had a reason to bargain with God. It had been too late when news of his parents’ plane crash had been delivered. Prayers had been useless then. He searched his heart for the right words now, trying to balance comfort against hope.

“Maria, it’s out of your hands,” he reminded her gently. “Maybe it’s always been out of your hands. God has a plan for Tony. He’s the only one who’ll decide this.”

“How could God want my boy?” she demanded angrily, choking back another sob. “Tony is all I have.”

Mack was helpless to answer that. “What did Dr. Browning tell you?”

“That without a bone marrow transplant very soon, there is no hope.” She gave him an anguished look. “There is no donor. I would give my boy my own life, but they say the match is not good enough. His father…” She gestured dismissively. “He’s given Tony nothing, not since the day he was born. I don’t even know where he is.”

“Are there other family members?”

“None close enough to help,” she said bleakly.

Mack finally saw the one thing he could do. He should have thought of it weeks ago, but for some reason it had never struck him that he could help in this way. He gave Maria’s hand a squeeze. “Then let me see if I can buy Tony a little hope. Go back in there, Maria. Talk to him. Tell him you love him. Tell him I’ll be in soon, too. He needs to know you’re there beside him and that there are a lot of people around who care about him.”

She nodded and wiped her tears. Her shoulders squared. “I left because I didn’t want him to see me crying. He asked me not to cry for him. That’s the kind of boy he is, concerned for me and not himself.”

“Then, no more tears,” Mack said. “Not until all hope is gone.”

Maria regarded him with a sad smile. “You’ve been a good friend, Mack. I will never forget that you’ve been here for him every day. It has been like the fulfillment of a dream for him. If these are his last days, you’ve made them happy ones.”

Mack shrugged off his effort. “Let me see if I can’t do something for him that really matters.”

When Maria had stepped back inside the room, Mack ducked in behind her for just a glimpse of Tony. He was paler than ever, his eyes closed. He looked so frail it didn’t seem possible that there was even a breath of life left in him. Mack’s heart ached, but his resolve strengthened.

Closing the door quietly behind him, he headed for an exit so he could use his cell phone. Maybe it was too late, but he had to do something. This wasn’t happening to just any kid. It was happening to Tony, and over the past weeks, Mack had come to love that boy as if he were his own son. He couldn’t lose him. It simply wasn’t an option.

Mack was suddenly a boy again, listening to a stranger tell him, Richard and Ben that their parents were dead. The housekeeper had stood silently weeping at the stark recitation of the facts about the plane crash in the fog-shrouded mountains. Ben had cried with her, but Richard had stood stoically silent, looking dazed. Mack knew about death, but he’d never experienced its finality. He hadn’t really understood what the full implications were at the time. He’d had no idea how horribly alone they were.