I threaded my arm around his body and held him close.
“No. I’ve got everything I need right here,” I said.
Tyler
One Week Later
“Here, Mom, let me help you into the car.”
“Oh, you’re such a sweet boy. You know that? So courteous and strong.”
“Be careful, sweetheart. That’s your son you’re talking about,” my father said, grinning.
“Are you sure they gave me the right pills? I feel like I’m on alcohol pills,” my mother said.
“What are alcohol pills, Mom?” I asked.
“You know, the ones filled with alcohol that make the world spin,” she said.
“I promise you have the right medication. Now, let me help you into the car,” I said.
Ana had been discharged from the hospital a couple days ago, and now it was my mom’s turn. The pain medication she was on really threw her for a loop. The plan was for Mom to spend six weeks at home recuperating, then enroll in rehab. Even though she had already gone through the withdrawal symptoms, she would still need help managing her cravings and finding a sponsor to help her on her journey once she was discharged from the facility. I was really proud of her for taking this next step on her journey to sobriety and being the best person she could be.
It made me more comfortable bringing Brody around her.
I buckled my mother into her seat, then ran around and got behind the wheel of the car. My father wanted to stay in the back with her, and I couldn’t blame him. It had taken all I had not to squeeze the life out of Ana’s hand when I’d been driving her back to her place. I pulled us away from the hospital and away from the nightmare that had unfolded there, easing us out onto the main road so we could all go home.
I felt an urge rise up in me before I had the chance to censor it.
“I met Mom’s liver donor,” I said.
“You what?” my father asked.
“Liver liver, chicken divver,” my mother said, giggling.
“I thought the doctor said it was anonymous?” my father asked.
“It was. I sort of stumbled onto their room by mistake,” I said.
“Was he hunky?” my mother asked.
I chuckled at her as my father pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“Why didn’t you come get me? I would’ve wanted to thank them in person,” he said.
“You still can,” I said.
“How?”
“Because we know them.”
“We do?” he asked.
“Who gave me my shiny new chrome-decorated liver?” my mother asked.
“You hear that, Dad? You’re going to have to get Mom a new car with chrome accents now,” I said.
“Don’t wrap me up into your devious plans, Son. That’s all you,” he said, grinning.
“Who saved my life?” my mother sang out in the car.
“Ana did,” I said.
Even in my mother’s drugged-up state, that name pierced through the fog of her high. My father’s eyes widened as his jaw dropped, and my mother cock her head.
“Come again?” she asked.
“The mother of your grandchild was your donor, Mom. Ana was the near-perfect match.”
“What?” my father asked.
“Yeah.”
“She was in the hospital with us?” my mother asked.
“Five doors down, to be exact,” I said.
“Ana gave your mother—?”
My father’s eyes filled with tears as reality dawned on my mother. She whipped her head around, then scrambled for the window and began poking at it with her finger.
“Turn down that way,” she said.
“Why?” I asked.
“Turn around. Just—just turn around.”
“Why, Mom? What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Does Ana still live with her parents?” she asked.
A tear dropped from my father’s eye as I shook my head.
“She doesn’t, no. She and Brody live in their own place,” I said.
“Then turn us around and take us there. Now,” she said.
“Mom, it’s okay. What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I want to see her now, Tyler. Take me to her.”
“I can’t. She’s still recuperating as well.”
“I want to see her.”
“Mom—”
“I want to see the mother of my grandson,” she said.
“Sweetheart—”
“I want to see the woman who saved my life!”
I came to a halt in front of a stoplight as my mother began to tremble. My father wrapped her up in his arms as she cried on his shoulder, her fists beating lightly against his back. Tears rose in my eyes again, and I did the only thing I knew to do. I picked up my cell phone, pulled off onto the side of the road, and called Ana.
“Hey, you. Did you get your mother home and settled already?” she asked.
“Not quite. We’ve pulled off onto the side of the road,” I said.
“What? Why? Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. Everything’s fine. I just have something to ask of you.”
“What do you need?”
“I may have sort of told them who the donor was.”
“Tyler, that was supposed to be anonymous. It could send your mother into shock for all we know.”
“She really wants to thank you in person. And I think my father does as well.”