Millionaires' Destinies(143)
After the last of the volunteers had gone, after his family had said goodbye and left for home, Mack paced the halls of the hospital waiting for word on the test results. Surely someone would be a match. Granted, the odds weren’t in their favor—Beth and Peyton had made that clear—but Mack couldn’t stop himself from hoping and praying that the news would be good.
“You should go home,” Beth told him. “It could be a while before we know anything for certain.”
“Are you leaving?” he’d asked.
“No.”
“Then neither am I. How about some coffee?”
“I don’t think I could drink one more cup,” she told him honestly. “I’m jittery enough. But some chocolate would be good. I’ll come to the cafeteria with you.”
“You need something more substantial than chocolate,” Mack coaxed when they were in the cafeteria. “How about a salad? Or some soup?”
“Something tells me you got me down here under false pretenses,” she teased with feigned indignation. “You never wanted coffee at all, did you? You wanted to get me to eat.”
He shrugged, not even trying to deny it. “It’s been a long day and I know you haven’t eaten anything.”
“I’m used to that,” she insisted.
“Well, you shouldn’t be,” he said, piling food onto a tray as she trailed along beside him. “The pie looks good. What do you think? Blueberry or lemon meringue?”
“Mack, if I eat all that, I’ll be up half the night.”
“Something tells me we’re going to be up half the night anyway,” he said, undaunted by her protest. “I’ll get both. You can try some of each.”
He put both pieces of pie on the already loaded tray, then carried it to the cashier, who beamed at him.
“I heard what you did for that boy today, Mr. Carlton.” The woman regarded Beth with a more serious expression. “I hope there’s a match, Dr. Browning. If not, maybe there will be one tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Beth repeated, looking confused.
“Didn’t you see the news tonight?” the cashier asked. “It was all over about how Mack got the whole team over here to be tested. The news guys are challenging the community to come in, too. One of the operators told me the phone lines have been lit up all night with volunteers calling for information. The bone marrow registry is going to be flooded with new people.”
Beth gazed up at Mack, her eyes shimmering with tears. “I had no idea.”
“Neither did I,” he said honestly. “But that’s a good thing, right? There are other people waiting for marrow donors, too, aren’t there?”
“Yes.”
Suddenly, before he realized what she intended, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him—a hard, breath-stealing kiss that drew cheers from the few people in the cafeteria at that hour.
When she finally released him, Mack regarded her with surprise. “What was that for?”
“For doing something so incredible. I will never complain about all the media that circles around you again.”
Mack thought about it and realized that for once his celebrity had been a good thing, giving Tony and maybe even others a fighting chance.
“Neither will I,” he said. “Heck, maybe I’ll even send a bottle of scotch to Pete Forsythe as a peace offering.”
Beth frowned at that. “Don’t get too carried away.”
Mack led the way to a table across the cafeteria, then sat back and watched to make sure that Beth actually ate something, instead of just moving the food around on the plate. She was almost finished with her pie when Peyton walked in, his expression elated.
“We have a match,” he called out from halfway across the cafeteria.
The announcement drew cheers. Mack felt his eyes fill with tears and saw that Beth’s cheeks were damp, as well.
“Who?” she said.
“Me? One of the players?” Mack asked, hoping in a way that he could be the one, not because he wanted credit for the heroics, but because it would give him a permanent link to Tony.
Peyton shook his head, his gaze on Mack. “It’s your aunt, Mack. Destiny is the match.”
Chapter Fifteen
Mack was still in shock at the unexpected twist fate had taken. Destiny—the woman who had saved him and his brothers from despair after the loss of their parents—was in a position to save another little boy, this time from almost certain death. He should have guessed that his aunt would be the one to keep Tony alive.
He couldn’t help worrying, though, whether she was physically up to it. Destiny would laugh in his face at any hint that she was old, and, truthfully, in her early fifties, she was in better health than many women much younger. Still, he was concerned.