“Troy, how did you find out?” She stopped in front of one of the journalism professors.
“Ian called.” He grinned at her and squeezed her hand. “Said he had a hot tip, but that I couldn’t mention him as the source.”
She nodded and went into Marcus’ room. A nurse was adjusting another IV. “Are you fam—? Oh. It’s you. He’s not awake right now.”
Grim-faced, she returned to the nurse’s station. “Please call the doctor for Marcus—Dunbar. Room 210. I’m here on behalf of his immediate family. In Omaha. They want the latest news, and I’m not leaving until I get it.”
The nurse paged the doctor.Amanda returned to Marcus’s room and pulled a chair close to his bed. His skin was so pale, his hand so cool, not like it usually felt.She sandwiched one large hand between her two small ones and leaned toward him.
“Marcus. It’s Amanda. You have to hang on—for me, for us. I want to tell your brother he doesn’t have to fly out here to say good-bye. Don’t you dare die on me. I can’t take another man dying on me. And Cecelia will never forgive me if you die. She told me she wants to thank you for being a hero. I know, deep down, she still likes you and we’ll—I was going to call you to come over on Saturday before—” she gasped between gulps of breath, trying not to cry—“you and I, together, we’ll get her to see that it’s okay—okay for you and me—we’ll talk about living together when you’re recovered. And, Mike wants me to call him back. I don’t want to have to tell him you’ve left us.” She kissed his hand and let her tears flow. “Please, Marcus, I love you so much.” Please don’t die. You can’t die, became a mantra.
At last she heard the door open and close. “You asked to see me, Mrs. Gardner?” The surgeon stood near the door.
She looked up, reached into her pocket for a handkerchief and mopped her eyes. “Yes. Give me all the details. I have to tell the family. They weren’t able to reach you earlier.”
“I’m sorry about that. I was in surgery—bad car accident. The liver is a hard organ to stitch. Some of the sutures didn’t hold, causing additional bleeding into his belly. He should be fine now. For the next twenty-four hours, we’re watching him very carefully, and he’s getting extra blood, too.” He paused. “If you want to stay with him for awhile, I’ll tell the nurses it’s all right.”
“Thank you.” Amanda stood near the window and gathered herself. I can’t cry when I talk to Mike.
After several minutes during which she struggled to pull herself together, she called Marcus’s brother on her cell, relaying the information to him, her voice still shaky. “If the doctor says he’s getting worse, I’ll let you know right away. For now, he seems to be holding his own. I’m staying here tonight. And at least half the journalism department has already given blood. A bunch of them are outside, kind of standing guard.” She smiled, not caring that Mike couldn’t see her face. “Just between you and me, I think they’re getting in the way of the nurses, but nobody has dared tell them to go away. I expect other faculty will want to give blood, too—after they hear what happened.” It’ll be all over campus tomorrow.
She stayed with Marcus for another hour then called home to speak with Cecelia. “I’ve asked Janet to sleep over tonight. I have to stay here with Marcus. His brother needs me to do that.”
“Can I see him tomorrow to make sure Eeyore is keeping him company?”
“If he’s stronger. I know Marcus will like that. I have to go now. Sleep tight, Cece.”
She returned to the chair beside Marcus’s bed and gathered his hand in hers. It seemed unnatural that he would feel so slack, so unmoving. Not like when he held her hand as they walked the beach, or how he swung Cecelia in the yard, her squeals of laughter punctuated by his deeper chuckles.
The image of her grandmother came to mind, the day she’d told them about her cancer, the day when she had patted Amanda’s hand after placing the filigree necklace in her palm and closing her fingers around it.
“Be brave through this, Amanda. You have more strength than you know. You’ll be fine, my sweet Mandy. My fine, beautiful Mandy. I’m not leaving you without a fight. And when I’m gone, just think of me as your own personal fairy godmother, perched behind your right ear, whispering encouragement when you need it most.”
She had to be brave. She rose and looked out at the deepening shadows as the sun set behind the far mountains. Being brave meant she had to overcome her fears about what others might say about her and Marcus and their relationship. Otherwise she couldn’t go on. For herself and for Cecelia. So she and Marcus, actually the three of them, could be together. Like a family. That’s what she wanted. More than anything.