Unexpected Gift(13)

“What are you saying, Mom?” she asks, sounding accusatory.

“I’m saying it isn’t up to you to decide what is best for him. That person was his wife and she is gone. Now, that responsibility lands on me and your father.”

Again, a familiar stricken look on Molly’s face makes me take a step toward her for some reason. Like I want to comfort her. That’s new, so I step back. It isn’t my place to get involved between them.

“You can’t be serious. This is a decision we should be making as a family.”

“Molly, look at you. You would never let him go.”

“And you can? Mom, he is your son.”

“And my son wouldn’t want to live like this!” Kim slides her watery eyes to me. “You know this is the right decision, Caden. Please, go get the doctor for me.”

“Mom, you can’t.” Molly’s voice cracks from pleading.

“Caden, please. I’d like a moment alone with my son before giving his organ’s away.”

“Mom. Listen to yourself. Miracles happen all the time. He could be that. He could be that miracle. You aren’t giving him a chance.”

“There is no chance here, Molly. His brain is dead. All chances are gone,” I say, squeezing her hand before letting go and walking out the door to fetch the doctor.

I never knew I’d be on the other end, asking for help and guidance, but what a difference it makes. I ruin people’s lives so often. And what is the pit in my stomach? Sadness, dread, or guilt? Probably all three at once.

I stride down the hallway, seeing the doctor at the nurses' station. I pass other rooms full of people breathing and living another day.

The realization makes me stop in my tracks as I stare at the doctor. He notices me and starts coming my way, and every ounce of breath leaves my lungs when a feeling cripples me.

Loss.

And I’m drowning in it.





Chapter Six





Molly





“Oh, come on.” The back of my dress won’t zip. It keeps getting stuck right in the middle. It is frustrating. “Please.” Tears prickle my eyes from being so aggravated over the fact that my black dress for my brother’s and Amelia’s funeral won’t zip.

The past few days have been the worst of my life. My mom and I got into a huge blow-out argument, and because we are both so stubborn, we aren’t speaking. I thought funerals are supposed to bring families together, but that is not the case here.

“Just fucking zip!” I try one more time to zip the damn thing, but it doesn’t move. I kick my heels off and one slams against the full-length mirror, shattering the bottom half onto the floor. I give up and sit on the edge of the bed. My hands grip the mattress as I yell. I yell so loud, as I squeeze the mattress for support until I have no more air left in my lungs.

I groan when more tears leave my eyes. I’m so tired of crying. It seems never-ending. I want to shut the damn faucet off, but it keeps getting worse.

“Need some help?” Kenna knocks on the door. She looks good in her black tulle dress. It is totally punk rock, and it shows off the tattoo sleeves she has on each arm. Brandon would have loved it, but he would have picked on her for looking more badass than he did.

I envy her for how bold she is. I glance down at my boring plain-Jane outfit. It is a simple black dress with a square neck, ending right above the knee. Hers has different shades of black and grey tulle, and the bodice resembles a tight T-shirt.

Badass.

“Hey, I know that look. Don’t do that. You look amazing. You always look amazing, Molls.” Her black high heels click against the hardwood floors as she sits next to me. “Turn.” She motions with her finger.

I move my hair out of the way and lay it over my shoulder. I don’t say anything as she zips me up and puts her hands on my shoulders. “I know today is hard, but I’m here, and as much as you hate it, Caden is here. He is helping. I know you don’t like him, but at least he is fun to look at.”

“I like him just fine.”

She takes my hair in her hand, letting the curls flow down my back. “You hate him.”

“Brandon loved him, so that means I have to try.”

Kenna laughs and stands, making the bed rise again from the loss of her weight. She struts toward the mirror, fixing her bright red lipstick with her finger, fluffs her hair, and twirls, making the tulle fan out like a ballerina.

“You look hot. For a funeral.” I wipe my eyes and finally stand up. I need to get my shoes on. The funeral starts soon. One shoe is on top of the broken glass and the other…I don’t know. I can’t see it anywhere. Where can a flying shoe go?

She spins around, putting her hands on her hips. “You never know where a girl can meet someone.”

“A funeral? Really? That’s where you are going to troll on guys? Brandon would have a field day with that.”

“Psh, Brandon would be my wingman.”

The thought of Brandon helping her find sad, vulnerable men makes me laugh until I cry. They are good tears this time, stemming from the way I miss him and his humor. “Yeah, he would have.” My voice hitches. I miss him so much.

“Come here.” Kenna heaves me into her arms and rubs my back. “I know you do. I miss him, too. We all do. He wouldn’t want this, though. He’d want you to go out and celebrate his life. He was like that. The life of the party. Surprisingly, too, since he was such a serious doctor.”