Amanda felt adrenaline surge through her limbs, every nerve awakening as she tried to grasp his full meaning. “A match?”
“A donor heart. It’s being transported to the hospital right now, and the surgery has already been scheduled. The team is being assembled as we speak.”
“Does that mean Jared is going to live?” Amanda asked, her voice hoarse.
“That’s the plan,” he said, and for the first time since she’d been in the hospital, Amanda began to cry.
22
At Dr. Mills’s urging, Amanda finally went home. She’d been told that Jared would be taken into pre-op, where he would be readied for the procedure, and she wouldn’t be able to spend time with him. After that, the actual surgery would take anywhere from four to six hours, depending on whether there were complications.
“No,” Dr. Mills said, even before she had a chance to ask. “There’s no reason to expect any complications.”
Despite her lingering anger, she’d called Frank after getting the news and before she left the hospital. Like her, he hadn’t been sleeping, and while she’d expected to hear the slurring she’d grown used to, he was sober when she reached him. His relief about Jared was obvious, and he thanked her for calling him.
She didn’t see Frank once she arrived home, and she suspected that since her mother was in the guest room, Frank was sleeping on the couch in the den. Though exhausted, what she really needed was a shower, and she spent a long time standing beneath the luxurious flow of water before finally crawling into bed.
Sunrise was still an hour or two away, and as Amanda closed her eyes she told herself she wasn’t going to sleep long, just a quick catnap before heading back to the hospital.
Her dreamless sleep lasted for six hours.
Her mother was holding a cup of coffee when Amanda came rushing down the hall, frantic to get to the hospital and struggling to remember where she’d left her keys.
“I called just a few minutes ago,” Evelyn said. “Lynn said they hadn’t heard anything at all, aside from the fact that Jared was in surgery.”
“I still have to go,” Amanda mumbled.
“Of course you do. But not until you have a cup of coffee.” Evelyn held out the cup. “I made this for you.”
Amanda pawed through the piles of junk mail and odds and ends on the counters, still searching for her keys. “I don’t have time…”
“It’ll take five or ten minutes to drink,” her mother said, in a voice that brooked no protest. She put the steaming cup in Amanda’s hand. “It won’t change anything. Once you get to the hospital, we both know that all you’re going to do is wait. The only thing that will matter to Jared is whether you’re there when he wakes up, and that’s not going to happen for several hours. So take a few minutes before you rush out of here.” Her mother sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and pointed to the seat next to her. “Have a cup of coffee and something to eat.”
“I can’t have breakfast while my son is in surgery!” she argued.
“I know you’re worried,” Evelyn said, her voice surprisingly gentle. “I’m worried, too. But as your mother, I also worry about you, because I know how much the rest of the family depends on you. We both know that you function much better after you’ve eaten and had a cup of coffee.”
Amanda hesitated then raised the cup to her lips. It did taste good.
“You really think it’s okay?” She gave an uncertain frown as she took a seat next to her mother at the kitchen table.
“Of course. You have a long day ahead of you. Jared is going to need you to be strong when he sees you.”
Amanda clutched the cup. “I’m scared,” she admitted.
To Amanda’s astonishment, her mother reached out and covered her hands with her own. “I know. I am, too.”
Amanda stared at her hands, still laced around the coffee cup, surrounded and supported by her mother’s tiny manicured ones. “Thanks for coming.”
Evelyn allowed herself a small smile. “It’s not like I had a choice,” she said. “You’re my daughter, and you needed me.”
Together, Amanda and her mother drove to the hospital, meeting up with the rest of the family in the waiting room. Annette and Lynn ran to give her a hug, burying their faces in her neck. Frank merely nodded and mumbled a greeting. Her mother, instantly sensing the tension between them, whisked the girls off to an early lunch.
When Amanda and Frank were alone, he turned to her.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “For everything.”
Amanda looked at him. “I know you are.”