One Day Soon (One Day Soon, #1)(60)

“I know his condition is very serious—”

“It’s not just his illness, it’s his situation. Have you been able to secure him a place at the Salvation Army?” Dr. Howell asked.

“He doesn’t want to go to the shelter. He’s had some bad experiences there and he is adamant he doesn’t want to go back,” I explained.

“Then it’s important that another place is found for him. He has a rough road ahead of him. It’s an uphill battle for those that don’t have all of the other risk factors that Yoss faces. This has to be a priority, Imogen.” Dr. Howell peered at me closely.

I swallowed thickly and only nodded. “How likely is he to get a transplant?” I asked.

“The waiting list is almost a year long. Given the gravity of his health, it will give him a higher priority, but like I told him, he could still be waiting for weeks. Or months. And I’m not sure Yossarian has months to wait.”

A punch to the gut.

The wind was knocked out of me.

I couldn’t breathe.

My knees threatened to buckle underneath me.

“Are you saying that he could…”

I couldn’t finish the sentence.

I couldn’t say it.

I wouldn’t.

“Imogen, Yoss’s liver is failing. He has already lost the function of almost 80% of his liver cells. His situation is precarious at best.”

“I understand,” I choked out. Lies.

I didn’t understand anything.

Least of all how I could find Yoss only to lose him again.

It was my greatest fear.

It paralyzed me.

“We can’t keep him in the hospital. We simply don’t have the funds for that, even with the government grants. You know that. And the truth is, he doesn’t need to stay in the hospital. He can function somewhat normally. He should carry on with his life. But it’s our job to ensure that life doesn’t include him living on the streets. Or carrying on with the lifestyle that got him to this point in the first place. Have you spoken to him about any of this? Perhaps there’s a support group for that sort of thing.”

That sort of thing.

What a polite way to refer to Yoss being a hustler.

“We haven’t spoken about it. Not yet anyway. I’ll do some research to see what support and services are available that deal with homeless issues. I had planned to talk to Lee Cutler, he’s a therapist with the grieving center and has met with some of my clients in the past,” I suggested.

Dr. Howell clicked his pen a few times. “That sounds good. Thank you, Imogen. I appreciate your dedication to Yoss’s situation.”

“It’s my job, Dr. Howell,” I replied.

Dr. Howell patted my arm, but didn’t say anything else.

I held it together until the doctor walked away. I turned towards Yoss’s room, my hand on the doorknob.

Yoss was dying.

It was the plain and simple truth.

I tried not to get angry with him for doing this to himself, but it was difficult.

I remembered all those nights I’d lie awake at The Pit, wondering where he was. Imagining what he was doing.

My mind went back to another night. A night when I had seen entirely too much.

It had been the end for us. The day when it all changed.

The alleyway was dark and I could just make out the shadowed figures hidden away from the street. I took a tentative step forward, hoping Manny was lying.

That when Yoss had promised me, he meant it.

I had to learn to trust him.

I started to turn away, disgusted with myself for doubting him.

Then I saw him. I’d recognize the dark black waves of hair anywhere. Even in the shadows, I knew him.

He was on his knees.

And then I saw the man with his sick, sick smile. His hand on the back of Yoss’s head. Holding him in place…

The bile rose in the back of my throat.

Tears burned my eyes and I wiped them away furiously.

I had to get it together.

Falling apart wasn’t an option.

I walked back into his room, prepared for the cold, icy man I had become somewhat used to. I anticipated the brick wall I was about to walk into.

But it wasn’t there.

Yoss looked up as I walked in and patted the bed beside him.

“They’ve finally figured out where the lady is being kept. It’s getting to the good part,” he said. He sounded edgy. Tired.

I should talk to him about so many things. It was my job. It’s what I was paid to do.

“Yoss,” I began, but he cut me off with a shake of his head.

“Come watch the rest of the movie with me. At least until the sun goes down,” he said, a note of pleading in his tone.

“It’s already dark,” I pointed out. The day was long gone.

“We can pretend it’s still sunset, can’t we?” he asked.

Sunset.

It had meant so much to the kids we used to be.

The soft light at the end of the day had been the only time we could feel hope.

Yoss would look at me and smile as the sun became shadow and I would feel a stirring in my broken heart. Because no matter how bad things had become, at least we had survived another day.

After the world had thrown us away, we could hold onto that. To each other. And feel something close to happy.