There was silence and then Drake gave a huge sigh. It was great news about the tissue match. My heart squeezed for him – he was hoping so much he could donate and help the son he never knew and now, he'd just received the answer he'd been waiting for.
"OK, thank you so much for calling."
Drake hung up, his back to me. He clasped his hands behind his head and stood there, watching out the living room window, not saying anything. Finally, I went to him and stood behind him, wondering what I should do.
"I'm so happy, Drake."
He nodded, but didn’t turn around. Finally, his arms dropped and his head bowed.
"Christ," he said, exhaling heavily. "I was so worried. There was a chance I wouldn't be a match, so I didn't want to get my hopes up…"
I went closer and threaded my arms around his waist, laying my head against his back. I didn’t say anything but I wanted him to know he had me if he needed me in any way. His hands clasped overtop of mine and we stood there for a while, the noise from the street filtering up through the windows.
Finally, he turned around and embraced me, his arms slipping around my waist, pulling me against his body tightly. My arms went around his shoulders and then he buried his face in the crook of my neck, saying nothing, but I could feel the tension in his body releasing slowly. I knew he was fighting tears from the way he breathed, ragged, alternating between holding his breath and exhaling.
Liam had looked so weak that night at the hospital, his tiny face as pale as the sheets, his head bald from the chemo, a tube for oxygen threaded around his face. How wonderful that he might be able to save his son's life.
Finally, Drake released me. "I'll be right back," he said. "I'm going to send an email to Michael in Nairobi that I'm a match and will have to give up my OR time."
I followed him to where he kept an old computer, on a desk in the dining room. "That's too bad, Drake. I know you wanted to help out." I stood in the doorway and watched as he opened the laptop on the desk.
He shook his head. "What's a surgical slate compared to a son's life?"
Then, his cell phone rang back in the living room, the trill urgent.
"Can you get that?" he asked as he checked his email.
"Yes, sure," I said and went back to the living room to his cell phone to check the caller ID. It was Maureen.
"Hello," I said. "Kate McDermott speaking."
Maureen's voice was soft, almost relieved. "Is Drake there? Tell him this is important."
"Just a minute." I walked to the office, handing him the cell.
"It's Maureen."
Drake took the phone.
"Hey," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I just got the news. I'm so pleased." He listened for a moment. "No, it's no problem. I'm glad to help. Anything to help."
Maureen spoke for a while.
"I will," he said, his voice sounding a bit irritated. "I understand." He frowned. "No, I said I understand. You don't have to worry. Chris is his father. I'm a total stranger." His voice was filling with emotion the more he spoke. He exhaled. "I'm meeting with Burke and will make the arrangements. Thanks for calling."
He hung up and stood there, shaking his head.
"What's the matter?"
"She wanted to remind me," he said and his voice broke for a moment. He took in a deep breath as if calming himself, his hands on his hips. "She wanted to remind me that this didn
't change anything. I'm still not going to be part of Liam's life. As if I don't already know that. Jesus, she must think I'm a real idiot."
He turned away and leaned against the windowsill, watching the cars on the street below.
I took in a deep breath and went to him. "That wasn't very nice of her, especially considering how cooperative you are."
He sighed. "She doesn't want to screw things up with Chris. He was shocked to learn Liam wasn’t his. It meant she was still fucking me when she was fucking him. That must have hurt." he said, his voice sounding devastated. He didn't say anything for a moment. Then, he sighed. "They almost broke up because of it, so you can imagine how hard this has been for her as well. And for Chris."