The Donor (The Full Novella) Page 9

  When I was finished, I stood to clear my plate, but he was already clearing it for me. I finished my second glass of wine and he motioned to the bottle, asking if I wanted more.

  I did, but I was a little tipsy already. “Trying to get me drunk, eh?”

  He laughed. “You've barely had any.” And the way he spoke told me he was feeling it too. I hadn't been keeping track of how many glasses he had.

  I held out my glass to him and he poured, refilling first mine, then his. I let it sit on the table for a while before I took another sip, deciding that pacing myself was the best option.

  “Do you want to sit in the living room?” he asked after he was done washing the dishes, laying them on the drying rack and wiping his hands.

  I nodded.

  Jonah took both of our glasses from the dining room table and I followed him into the living room. He set them down on the coffee table in front of the couch before he sat down, but I couldn't tear myself away from the aquarium. The fish swam by and the water rippled around them, the image dispersing into blurred colors.

  I pressed my hands to the tank like I would be able to join them before I heard the clink of a glass being down on the coffee table. I turned to see Jonah studying me with a smile that didn't touch his eyes.

  “Sorry,” I said, taking my hands off of the glass and stepping backward.

  “It's okay,” he said, crossing his leg over his knee. “I like watching you.”

  Suddenly self conscious, I stared down at my feet. “I can't be that interesting,” I said.

  Jonah cocked his head to one side like I had said something confusing. “Of course you are.”

  He patted the seat next to him and I shuffled over, sitting down too close. Our legs were touching. But neither of us moved away.

  Reaching an arm around the back of the couch, Jonah pulled me a little closer. “I doubt there are many people like you in the world,” he said.

  “Yeah.” I snorted. “Not many dying girls who would want to spend their last days alive with a stranger.”

  “Or help that stranger.”

  “Or really want to kiss that stranger.”

  I don't know why I said it out loud. I could have blamed the alcohol, but I knew that was just an excuse. I knew that even if I was stone cold sober I would have wanted the same thing.

  Jonah smiled. “Exactly.”

  But he didn't kiss me.

  ***

  Mom walks through the door to our trailer before me, and I trail after her like a child. My nose had stopped bleeding when we were about half way home. Mom had asked me if I was okay, and I told her yes. She commented on how I hadn't stopped bleeding, and I said I would explain.

  She asks me again if I’m okay. I only nod.

  Dad’s sitting in his usual recliner, watching TV. He switches it off when he sees me, standing on stiff legs. “Casey,” he says, shuffling over to me to enclose me in a hug. I guide him back to the couch and he sits.

  “Hi, Dad,” I say. Seeing him, being face to face with this decision now that both of my parents are in the same room as me, I don't know what to do. It’s hard to move, hard to breathe.

  Mom sits on the couch. Now they’re both looking expectantly at me. Mom has a worried expression on her face while Dad waits patiently and smiles.

  “So,” he says. “Tell me about your trip.”

  I take a breath, steadying myself.

  “Let me go to the bathroom first,” I say. I don't wait for an answer before I hurry down the hall and shut myself inside.

  I sit on the closed toilet lid, sliding my phone from my pocket.

  Me: I can't do this.

  Jonah responds almost immediately, but it isn't what I was expecting.

  Jonah: Me either.

  I blink a few times, unable to tell if he’s serious or if this is a hallucination.

  Me: Where are you?

  Jonah: Still at the airport. They called my gate thirty minutes ago and I couldn’t stand.

  Jonah: I've just been sitting here.

  Me: I just had a nosebleed in front of my mom.

  Jonah: Where are you now?

  Me: Home. I'm scared.

  Jonah: Let's be scared together?

  My hands shake with the phone in them. Does he want to abandon our plan?

  I know that isn't an option now that I’m home. We’ve made it this far, and I know both of us can't back out now.

  But maybe we can stretch time a little while longer.

  Jonah: Give me your address. I'll be there.

  ***

  I picked up my glass from the table and drained the rest of it. I was afraid that Jonah had only shown me his secret house in order to get what he really wanted from me. Now that he knew I would give it to him, he didn't have any interest in me.

  “I'm sorry, Casey,” he said.

  When I didn't look at him, he took my glass from me and set it down on the table again. I couldn't look at him. I was too embarrassed.

  Jonah placed a hand on the side of my face and positioned it so I was looking right at him. It was a gentle gesture, but it made my heart pound faster in my chest.

  “I...” he couldn't finish his sentence.

  “I thought you liked me,” I said, and I could hear a slight whine in my voice. I hated it.

  He kissed my forehead. “I do,” he said softly. “I really do.”

  I blinked a few times, willing myself to keep it together and not cry. “Then why...” I took a breath. “Why don't you want me anymore?”

  Jonah sighed. He took my hand and we both stared down at it. “I do,” he repeated. “More than you know.”

  Taking my hand, he lay down with me on the couch. With him behind me, I was more aware of him, the way his free hand stroked my hair. We both watched the tank across the room, the gentle hum lulling us into calmness. I wanted to say something, but words escaped me as we drew closer to each other.

  ***

  I emerge from the bathroom and Mom and Dad are both staring at me.

  “So,” Mom says. “We're waiting.” She seems uneasy, but she doesn't mention the nosebleed and I’m not ready to.

  Picking a spot between Mom and the recliner, I sit down. “I had fun in Boston,” I begin. “But...” I get stuck on the sentence, unsure of what else to say that isn't a lie. “I didn't go out there to look at schools.”

  I brace myself, waiting for anger or disappointment, but Mom and Dad are calm.

  “So...” Dad speaks first. “What did you go out there for?”

  I gulp. “Well, I went to go meet a friend,” I say. It’s easiest this way. “Actually…it was kind of for a job.” It’s not exactly a lie. I’m still not sure if I can tell them everything, but they needed to know at least enough to understand what I did. What I tried to do for them.

  Dad raises his eyebrows. Mom smiles knowingly. “So is that who you've been texting since you landed?”

  I nod, letting my own smile form. “I didn't expect us to like each other,” I say. “I just went out to make some extra money and it...just sort of happened.”

  Mom pauses, I can see the gears turning in her head. “What kind of job did you get out there?”

  I thought quickly. “Well, it was mostly office work. You know, kind of like an assistant. It was supposed to be temporary and then he ended up liking me so he kept me on longer.”

  Dad smiles. “That's great, honey.”

  Mom isn’t about to let it slide so easily. “So why did you lie to us this whole time?”

  I shrug. “I guess I was kind of scared of what you'd think.”

  “Did it at least pay well?” She asks.

  I haven't checked my bank account, but I called to tell them about the sum I could only imagine receiving. “Really well,” I say.

  “And now you're...involved?” She asks.

  “I also kind of didn't want to tell you about that.”

  “Why not, sweetie?”

  I swallow. I can't lie to them about this. He woul
d be here soon and there’s no way Mom and Dad won't notice the obvious. “He's a little...older than me.”

  Dad clears his throat. Mom shifts her weight on the sofa. “How much older?” Dad asks.

  I stare at my hands. “He's in his forties,” I say in a small voice.

  Dad lets out a breath. Mom's smile falters. If they’re this upset about just the idea of Jonah, I dread telling them the rest of the story.

  I decide my best option is to keep talking. Give them less time to think and less time to ask me questions that could throw me off. “He's actually in town for some business,” I add, a little less confident than I had been before. “He wanted to stop by and meet you.”

  They both seem a little surprised at this fact. Mom stands, Dad fiddles with the remote on the armrest.

  “You guys are mad,” I state. “Don't be mad.”

  “It's just a lot to take in, sweetie.” Mom sounds like she’s talking to herself. “That's all, right?” she asks Dad.

  Dad nods. “He's coming over?” His tone is slightly harder, but he softens. “Already?”

  I sheepishly check the time. “In about ten minutes.” I fumble for more of an explanation. “I’m sorry, it was kind of last minute.”

  Mom looks around the room. “Well,” she says with an uneasy smile. “I guess I should clean what I can before he gets here.”

  Dad sits up straighter and then slowly stands. “And I guess I'll go change my shirt.”

  They both leave the room, Dad heading to the bedroom and Mom going into the kitchen. I shoot a text to Jonah telling him what I had told my parents so our stories match up. I don't want to cause more problems than I already have.

  There’s a dull ache behind my eye as I wait alone on the couch.

  ***

  I woke up on the sofa by myself and my head was killing me. My mouth was dry, my eyeballs ached, and my stomach felt hollow and empty. It wasn't the pain I had become accustomed to with the tumor; this was something completely different.

  Jonah came into the room and set a glass of water on the table. “Sorry,” he said. “I meant to make you drink more water last night.”

  Sitting up slowly, I took the water and drank it even slower. “My first hangover,” I said flatly.

  He laughed a little. “Glad I could contribute to this special occasion.”

  Jonah sat down next to me and placed a hand on my knee. “I'm sorry I let you drink that much,” he said. “I wasn't in the right frame of mind either.”

  I shrugged. “I wanted to,” I said. “Not many chances for that.”

  A crinkling sound and Jonah was handing me something. “Here, it'll help your stomach.”

  I took the handful of crackers from him and chewed them; swallowing them took a lot of effort, but once I had I felt a lot better. “Thanks,” I said.

  Jonah sat down next to me, covering me with a dark grey afghan that hung over the back of the couch. I rested my head against his chest and his chin sat atop my head as his arms brought me even closer. Although he was still wearing the same clothes he fell asleep in, he smelled clean. I couldn’t place the scent, but it reminded me of freshly fallen snow. Inhaling deeply, I could feel my headache disappearing, my stomach settling. A gentle hand stroked up and down my back.

  “I upset you,” he said. “Last night.”

  I remembered how he didn’t kiss me. How much it hurt. I gulped. “I…” I said into his shirt. The back of my throat tasted bitter and dry. “I don't understand,” I said. “You want me but you don’t?”

  Jonah pulled away slightly so he could shift his eyes to me. They were completely clear. “I just don't want to make things worse for you.”

  “You won't.” I took his hand and placed in on my knee, his fingers gently resting there.

  I saw him clench his jaw. “I already have.”

  I moved over, completely unashamed of how I was literally throwing myself at him. We were wasting too much time discussing the moral implications of our decisions without saying a word about them and I couldn't take it anymore. “You've taken care of me,” I said, my breath warm as I kissed his cheek. He didn't pull away. “You've treated me like I'm normal… ”

  I felt him take in a breath, like he was about to argue or prepare to go under water for an extended period of time, but I stopped him with a kiss and his body relaxed against mine.

  “…Until now,” I said. “Please don't stop...” I whispered into his ear. “Please don't treat me like I'm dying now.”

  Something seemed to register on his face then, like I had shocked him with my touch. Sitting in his lap, he wrapped his arms around my waist and finally kissed me.

  ***

  “So let me get this straight,” Dad says, coming from the bedroom and sitting in his recliner once more. Now he’s wearing a clean T-shirt and the only pair of jeans he owns that doesn’t have holes in them. “You met this guy for a job and now you’re together?”

  I guess the time it took him to change was enough time to think about the situation. “Yeah,” I say. “I wasn’t expecting it.”

  Dad shakes his head. “You’re nineteen, Casey,” he says. “You’re too young for him.”

  I’m too young for a lot of things.

  “You’ll like him,” I say. “I promise.”

  The clock on the cable box blinks. The power must have gone out while I was away and I was the only one who’d notice and fix the time.

  “It’s not that I don’t trust your judgment,” he says. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

  It occurs to me that no, I still don’t know what I’m doing. I wonder if I ever will, if it even matters.

  ***

  I didn't realize Jonah was lifting me in his arms until we were half way up the stairs. I let him carry me. I let him set me down on the bed in his room. I didn't let him move away from me.

  He tried to stand up once I was sitting, half-lying on the clean white comforter, but I pulled at his shirt collar, giving him no choice but to stay right where he was. He kissed me again and this time, it was urgent, searching, exploring, and I gave it back to him. It was like we were trying to find something but we both weren't sure what it was.

  Jonah took my hands in his and placed them at my sides, squeezing them like he was scared. I was a little scared too, but I didn't let it stop me. Fear was something I knew. Something I had to face every day since I had received the phone call that sentenced me to two months of life. Fear of leaving my family, fear of never accomplishing anything, fear of dying, fear of leaving.

  This fear was something I could deal with. Something I could use and transform into something that was fully mine.

  Jonah traced the curve of my neck with one hand, stopping at the edge of my shirt before he removed it, slipping it gently over my head. I fumbled with the buttons on his shirt as we both laughed and actually banged heads once, but together we managed to free him of it.

  I had never seen a naked man before. Not in person. In a movie, sure, probably. But this wasn't a movie. There would be no fairy tale ending, there would be no soundtrack playing us out as the credits rolled. This was real and raw and for the first time, that's exactly what I wanted.

  I had spent so long floating, trying to figure out my next move, but here, I didn't need to worry about it. I didn't have to think about the future or close myself off from thinking about it completely. We were both here, in this moment, and that's all that mattered.

  Jonah kissed a trail down my chest, stomach and hips. I watched the muscles in his back expand and contract and his arms worked to unzip my pants. I didn't even think twice about it. I let him do it, and then he let me do the same to him.

  I don't know how long we were in his room, as light flooded though and the seahorse bobbed up and down in the tank in the corner. He kissed me again, and when I needed air, he let me have it.

  He guided me further onto the bed, grabbing me around the waist so swiftly that a girl-like giggle escaped me. He laughed too, kissing my
neck, setting fire to that spot until I could no longer breathe.

  “Jonah,” I said on a breath. If we kept doing this, I wasn't going to be able to stop. I didn't know why I would want to, but I knew it all the same. I expected that at any minute I would start to feel sick again, get a nosebleed just as things were starting to get good. Maybe it would be best if I told him to stop, if we only left it here. But instead of saying stop, I said, “Please.”

  Jonah let go of my hands and placed his arms on either side of my head, caging me in. He stared down at me as I wrapped my arms around his back, smiling, really smiling when he smoothed some hair from my face.

  “I've wanted to do this,” he whispered. “For a very, very long time.”

  I smiled against his lips, pulling him closer to me as we both sank into the mattress. We didn't say anything after that; the tank across the room and our breathing were the only sounds.

  ***

  Jonah arrives sooner than I was expecting. I open the door to find him standing on the porch, flowers in hand, smile on face. I want to say something to him but I can't find the words.

  “Would you like to come in?” is all I can manage.

  He nods.

  I step aside and let him inside our trailer. Mom and Dad are sitting in the kitchen now, so I start to lead Jonah there when he grabs my arm. I turn to face him and he stares right back at me. One look can convey all of the things we had already done, all of the things that lie ahead, and all of the things we’re both afraid of but can't say.

  I kiss him and smile. “My parents want to meet you,” I say, grabbing his hand.

  Mom and Dad look up when we enter the kitchen. Jonah shakes Dad's hand and gives the flowers to Mom. We sit at the table and Mom makes coffee.

  I can't concentrate on the conversation, too distracted by the clicking of the clock on the wall. I don't know how much time I have with Jonah, in this easy state, before we have to part again, spiraling off into our own lives and figuring out what comes next.