Shirley, Goodness and Mercy (Angels Everywhere #4)(22)

“Let me finish, please, and if you still feel the same way after that, then…well, then we can talk.”

Greg groaned silently and saw that he had no choice but to listen. Once Edward was finished, he would make some excuse and leave by the fastest route possible.

“This will be a dangerous time for Tanner, when he’s most susceptible to infection.

“On the day of the transplant, the bone marrow will be extracted from you and stored in a blood bag, then intravenously transfused into Tanner over the course of several hours.” He paused and studied Greg, who sat quietly, without moving. “Do you want to ask me about the pain or how the marrow is extracted?”

“Not particularly.” He didn’t need to know, didn’t care to know, seeing that it wasn’t going to happen.

“Most people are curious about the pain, and rightly so. I won’t deny that there is some discomfort involved in this process, but I like to tell my donors that it never hurts to save a life.”

Apparently Edward hadn’t heard him correctly the first time. Greg wasn’t doing this. Couldn’t do this.

“I want to schedule the procedure as quickly as possible. As you can see, Tanner’s health is failing.”

Greg stared at him, wondering why Edward refused to understand. “Don’t schedule anything for me. You’ll just have to find another donor.”

Now it was Edward’s turn to wear a shocked disbelieving look. “You really won’t do it?”

“Not on your life.”

“It isn’t my life or your life you’re sacrificing. It’s that young boy’s. He’ll die without a bone-marrow transplant.”

“You’ll find another donor.” Greg stood, desperate to escape.

“No, we won’t.” Edward stood, too. “Do you think just anyone can supply the bone marrow for Tanner? If that was the case, I’d give him my own—but it’s not. There has to be a match. You’re that match.”

“Don’t see how I can be,” Greg said stubbornly. He wasn’t any relation to the boy.

“Why did you sign the release and agree to have your blood tested if you weren’t willing to be a donor?” Edward raised his voice.

Greg dared not tell him the truth, dared not announce the real reason he’d come to the hospital.

“Did you take a good look at Tanner?” Edward asked. “He’s only ten. He could be your son or even mine, and he’s only got a very small chance of living without your bone marrow.”

“And with my marrow?” Greg couldn’t believe he’d even asked.

“There’s a much greater likelihood that he’ll see another Christmas.”

Greg slumped back in the chair and covered his eyes with the heels of his hands. He didn’t know what to do.

“Is he going to do it?” Mercy cried, pacing the area directly behind Edward’s desk. “I can’t stand not knowing.”

“Shush! I can’t hear.” Goodness waved a quieting arm at Mercy.

“Shirley, do you know?” Mercy asked.

Shirley shook her head.

“He’s going to refuse?” Mercy collapsed against a bookcase. “Has the man no heart?”

“Would you kindly stop that noise?” Goodness warned a second time. “I can’t hear a thing.”

“They’re arguing,” Shirley said. “And poor Greg has no way of knowing—”

“That Tanner is Matthias’s grandson?”

“No, not just that,” Shirley said sadly. The irony here had God’s fingerprints all over it.

“No?” Goodness paused to look in Shirley’s direction, clearly puzzled.

“What Greg doesn’t know,” Shirley told her two friends, “is that the boy is more than Matthias’s grandson. He’s Greg’s chance for redemption.”

Nine

Phil and Sandy Bennett arrived five minutes late for choir practice. Weaving his way between choir members, Phil climbed into his position on the riser, frazzled and irritated with his wife. Sandy might not have intended to make him feel guilty about Greg—but somehow he did. Well, not guilty exactly. A little uncomfortable, perhaps.

It wasn’t until he opened the sheet music and started singing along with the others that he heard her. The blonde who sang first soprano was back! Gradually the tension between his shoulder blades relaxed. He knew it; she hadn’t been imaginary at all. He waited until the last notes had died down, then casually leaned forward to speak to her.

“Where have you been?” he asked her, unable to disguise his excitement. Before she could answer, he asked another question. “What’s your name?” It would have helped if he’d had a name to give Sandy. She knew a lot more of the choir members than he did.

“I’ve been busy,” she told him.

“You’re a member of the choir, though, aren’t you?”

“I’m here.”

Her hair was so blond it was almost white, and her singing voice… Phil had never known anyone who could sing quite like this woman. Her voice had a power and beauty that was almost unearthly.

“I’ve got to introduce you to my wife,” he said while they shuffled through their sheet music, preparing for the next carol.