CHAPTER ELEVEN 

Jack sat next to Hailey, his arm draped purposefully around her, recalling a similar night when he and his baby girl had sat in the same hospital years earlier. His daughter had lost her mother that night. She didn’t remember that time in her life; she didn’t know the pain, the heartache, the tears that were shed in that very room, nor the helplessness Jack had felt when doctors told him the person he loved would not survive…and he sat there now, desperately praying that she never would.

“Any change?” Joanna asked hopefully as she stepped over Jessica, who was asleep on a pallet on the floor.

“Not that we know of,” David sighed, taking the coffee Joanna had brought him. “Mom and Dad are still with the doctors.”

“I just don’t understand,” Rachel gulped as she lifted her head off of Wally’s chest. “It’s like just yesterday, he was walking and talking and laughing and acting as if he weren’t even sick, and now he’s unresponsive and more doctors are being called in. Everything is just happening too fast.” Rachel put her arms around Emily, lovingly stroking her hair as Emily, sleepy-eyed and sobbing, fought sleep, waiting for word that Grant’s condition had improved.

“He has good doctors; we have to believe they’re going to figure out what’s going on,” David said, adjusting Leah in his arms and taking a sip of his coffee.

The sound of footsteps approaching made everyone look up eagerly, but it was only Melissa returning from the parking lot with Leah’s blanket in hand. She tucked the pink blanket around her sleeping daughter and kissed her husband’s cheek. “No word from your parents?”

“Not yet,” David answered softly.

Granny Miller groaned as she woke from sleep. “Nora Jean?” she asked.

Melissa sat down next to Granny, taking her hand. “She’s still with Grant’s doctors, Granny.”

Granny reached for her back. “I declare, these chairs they’ve got out here don’t make the waitin’ any easier, do they?”

Melissa smiled understandingly. “Granny, why don’t you let David run you home? You need to stretch out in your own bed. We can call you as soon as they let us know anything.”

“Yeah, Granny,” Joanna agreed. “You’re already going to be as stiff as a board from sitting in here so long.”

“I’m not as young as I used to be,” Granny argued, “but I will be right here until I know that Nora Jean and my grandson are okay.”

Hailey stood, and, stepping over Jessica, she began to pace, the sleeves of Grant’s hoodie pulled over her hands as she walked back and forth, her thoughts a million miles away. How long had it been since she had slept? Maybe twenty-four hours, maybe closer to forty-eight…she wasn’t sure, nor did she know how long she would continue walking the same path back and forth; she only knew that it was a way to deny her body the sleep it craved.

Hailey’s mind was void of thought, either good or bad, when she felt Nora’s arms around her, jarring her instantly back into reality where she was totally aware of the answers she was waiting for. “He’s awake,” she heard Nora cry. “He’s awake… and he’s asking for you.”

Misty arrived in the hospital’s ICU waiting room carrying a small, plastic, Wal-Mart bag of clothes, only to find Hailey asleep in the middle of the waiting room floor. There were others sleeping on either side of her, pillows and blankets everywhere, evidence this room had been made into a personal campsite over the past couple days.

Jessica and Emily were sitting in two chairs next to the wall, and they smiled easily at Misty. They had just returned from Hope Hull that morning, after much needed showers, changes of clothes and a good night’s sleep in their own beds.

“I brought some snacks and a change of clothes for Hailey,” Misty whispered as she sat next to the girls. “I know she won’t leave the hospital, but I figured she would feel better if she at least changed her clothes and washed her face.”

“We brought a backpack of her things from home,” Jessica gestured toward the chair next to her, “but she won’t take off Grant’s sweatshirt.”

Hailey woke, as if on cue. “Misty?” she asked, rubbing her red, bloodshot eyes as she rose.

“Hi,” Misty smiled, standing to hug her friend.

Instinctively, Hailey’s eyes searched for the clock, making sure she had not slept past ICU visiting hours.

“You have another hour before you can go back and see him,” Emily assured her.

“Dad went across the street to McDonald’s to get everyone coffee and breakfast,” Jessica told her.

There was coffee in the waiting room and a vending machine with Texas cinnamon rolls, honey buns and cookies, but everyone, it seemed, liked an excuse to get outside for a moment.

“They think they’ll get to move him out of ICU today,” Hailey’s eyes sparkled as she relayed the good news to her friend.

“You told me on the phone,” Misty nodded. “I’m here on Grant’s behalf. If he’s well enough to be moved from Intensive Care, then he’s alert enough to realize that you, my sweet friend, look like a hot mess.”

“Thanks, Misty,” Hailey rolled her eyes.

“It’s true,” Jessica agreed as Hailey tried to smooth her hair away from her face. She reached into the seat next to her, picked up Hailey’s backpack and thrust it toward her sister.

“Come-on,” Misty smiled, taking her friend’s arm. “I saw a bathroom right across the hall. Let’s go brush your hair and make you presentable for our boy.”

“Grant told me I looked beautiful,” Hailey said as she reluctantly followed Misty.

“Well, those are some good drugs,” Misty said, determined to keep the mood light.

Hailey smiled as she pulled the bathroom door open.

She stood at the bathroom counter, brushing her teeth, watching Misty in the mirror as she dug through a bag and removed a bath cloth and a blue tube of Noxzema.

Misty placed the bag’s contents on the counter and gently removed the ponytail holder that still held a small portion of Hailey’s hair back. “How’s he doing?” she finally asked.

Hailey finished brushing her teeth and rinsing her mouth before she answered.

There was a straight back chair against the wall, and, pulling it in front of the mirror, Misty gestured for Hailey to sit.

As Hailey spoke, Misty managed her hair with tender attentiveness.

“He’s just lying there,” Hailey shrugged. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to have complications this soon. Maybe if we had just caught this sooner. He was supposed to start chemotherapy and, once his blood counts were stabilized, continue to get chemo as an outpatient procedure. We were supposed to go home. I was supposed to be able to help him through this every step of the way.” She shook her head, making it difficult for Misty to continue working on the ponytail she had started. “He’s hooked up to so many machines; there are so many needles…and the smell of the drugs make me sick to my stomach.”

Misty finished fixing Hailey’s hair. “Wash your face,” She gulped. “I’ll get you out some fresh clothes.” Misty began digging around for the bottle of perfume she had brought. “Clinique,” she said proudly, as she pointed the bottle at Hailey, “a Christmas gift from Paul.”

“Don’t,” Hailey shook her head, as she gently pushed the bottle away. “I can’t wear perfume. It makes Grant sick.”

“Really?” Misty sniffed at the bottle.

“Yeah,” Hailey sighed. “One good whiff of the magazine sample of Chanel that Rachel rubbed on her wrist, and he threw up almost instantly.”

“Poor guy,” Misty frowned.

Hailey stretched out her arms as though preparing for a workout on the basketball court, trying to rid her body of the soreness that comes with spending a week sleeping on a hard, hospital floor. “He doesn’t eat. He was bordering on dehydrated despite the IV, and the doctors are talking about steroids they’re going to have to give him and warning us about how they will change not only his appearance but his personality.”

Misty looked at her friend, not quite sure how to ask the question that was forming in her throat. “So…”

“I don’t want to talk about that,” Hailey shook her head, knowing Misty was questioning the inevitable. Hailey had heard the percentages, the survival rate of those suffering Acute Myelogenous Leukemia. Those numbers, those statistics meant nothing to her. Those numbers swam in her head along side the blood counts that were constantly being dictated to her. Red blood cells, white blood cells, platelet transfusions, the rate of this, the level of that, the chances of one thing or another. It was all more than she could comprehend. Nothing had ever made her feel quite as simple-minded as cancer and all its terminology had managed to. She nodded when the doctors spoke, too ashamed to make them stop and define every word of doctor-speak. She tried to remember some of the words, so she could look them up later. She listened as Nora tearfully asked many of the same questions she had, but the answers never seemed to be definite, and they varied slightly depending on which doctor you were speaking to.

One doctor felt one method of treatment would work better, while the other championed another regimen altogether. One doctor wanted to try one thing while another argued that, while he saw the benefits that stood to be gained, the risk to another aspect of Grant’s health was simply too high.

Hailey had always thought of medicine as a science, something exact and clear-cut with right answers and wrong answers. That wasn’t the case at all, she realized. Medicine, she’d decided, was a high-risk art. It was a life or death scale masterpiece resulting from the artistic vision of high-priced painters called doctors.

Hailey had confessed her confusion to Melissa and learned that, if anybody understood how she was feeling, it was the mother of a child who had seen countless neurologists and therapists and had her medications, her diet, personalized learning plans and her prognosis changed, tweaked and argued more times than one could count.

Medicine, Hailey had learned, is no different than anything else. Doctors, though they represent some of the best and brightest society has to offer, are just humans doing a job and trying their best to do it well. In many ways, they are like authors writing a novel. They decide what the next course of action will be, and they weight the consequences that said action will have on the totality of the story. And, while Hailey was grateful for their knowledge, their years of dedicated study and their willingness to help those in need, Autism and cancer had made her acutely aware of something she already knew; doctors could do all that they knew how; they could give their opinions and explain what precedent dictated was supposed to happen, but, unlike the author of a novel, the end result was totally and completely out of their hands!

The percentages didn’t matter because the doctors with those percentages memorized to share with grieving families didn’t know how the story would end. They were not in control. Control over Grant’s disease belonged to One much more powerful than the best doctor they could find. Grant’s life was in the hands of the Great Physician. Only He had the power to heal Grant. Only He knew how this story would end.

Hailey walked into the tiny chapel tucked away in the corner of the hospital’s first floor, expecting it to be empty, the way she had found it for over a week now.

The new year had come, and school would be starting back soon. Christmas vacation was nearing an end, and Hailey knew that returning to school without Grant would symbolize more in her mind than she could allow herself to focus on. That is how she found herself in the chapel again; she was doing the only thing she knew how. As she straightened her shirt and pushed the large, wooden, chapel door open, prepared to get on her knees before God, she noticed the chapel wasn’t empty.

Randy turned at the sound of the door opening, and his eyes met Hailey’s.

“Oh,” Hailey gasped apologetically, “I’m sorry to interrupt. I can come back.”

“No,” Randy said softly, looking away but motioning her forward.

“Are you sure?” Hailey asked tentatively.

“You know what they say,” Randy said, his voice sounding more strained than Hailey had ever heard it. “Where two or more are gathered, right?”

“Right,” Hailey said with a half smile. She walked up the single aisle of the chapel, moving slowly as she noticed Randy swiping at his cheeks in the dim light.

Hailey’s mind raced, searching for the right words to say.

“Honestly, I think I’ll go,” Randy said, standing. “I’ve said what I had to say; I’ll let you have your turn in private.”

As Randy passed by her, Hailey felt her hand catch his arm to stop him. Part of her couldn’t believe she had actually done that, and it took a moment for her thoughts to register. Hailey looked up, her eyes meeting Randy’s, who seemed equally shocked by her action.

“I’m sorry,” Hailey said, letting her hand drop from his arm. “I just thought…it might be nice to pray together.”

Randy nodded his head slowly, allowing Hailey to lead him down the aisle to the small, red-carpeted alter. Hailey looked up at the strapping, six-foot-six man who stared down at her with tear-filled eyes that seemed to sparkle with what looked like admiration.

Hailey felt her insides trembling and hoped her voice would not come out sounding equally shaky.

Randy knelt down in front of the first step and leaned forward, resting his elbows on a higher step, his hands folded beneath his bowed head.

Hailey had seen men pray; she had heard Pastor Jordan pray in front of the congregation a million times; she had heard her daddy pray as she and Jessica knelt down with him at night before bedtime; it did her heart good to hear Grant pray as they studied their devotionals together, but there was something about this man, this prayer that had caught Hailey off-guard. She watched his body lean onto the platform, as though he needed it to hold his weight, and decided it is a curious thing watching a man so solid completely falling to pieces. Hailey blinked, suddenly feeling closer to Randy Cohen than she ever thought she could.

Randy turned his head to the side, glancing at her. “Are we going to pray for my son?” he asked gruffly.

Hailey nodded as she knelt next to him, but the words that came out of her mouth were not a prayer. She was looking at Randy, the timid hesitation gone as she saw a different man than the one she had come to know. “He opens doors for me. He carries things for me without being asked. His hands are strong, but they’re always so gentle with me. For all the brash, sarcastic, negative condescension that he presents to the rest of the world, he is actually incredibly kindhearted. He knows how to make me laugh, and he knows just what to say when I’m crying. He teaches me things all the time. He talks about our future, and he makes me want more out of life than I ever thought possible. He’s helped me realize my dreams, and I was lucky enough to fall in love in the process.”

Randy moved slowly to put his arm around Hailey, pausing to make sure she was receptive to the gesture. He looked into the innocent eyes of the young woman his son loved, and her expression said that a hug was exactly what she needed.

“Grant and I pray together,” Hailey blurted, not knowing quite why she had said it until she saw Grant’s father visibly considering her words.

“I’ve never been too good at this,” Randy confessed.

“What do you mean?” Hailey gulped.

Randy frowned. “I don’t know,” he shook his head. “I’ve been in here for an hour just trying to figure out what to say…”

“I think we should just ask God to continue watching over Grant,” Hailey said simply. “To give him the strength that he needs to keep fighting.”

“You know…after my son Ike died…” Randy’s words fell off. Hailey offered Randy a brief glance that was so sympathetic and genuine that he continued. “After Ike died it took me awhile to accept that God had not ignored my prayers.”

“I spent a lot of time trying to find a purpose in my mother’s death,” Hailey said thoughtfully. “It was that searching, the thirst for answers that got me in the Word.”

“I think God’s been trying to get my attention for a long time,” Randy shook his head as he moved away from Hailey.

Hailey watched Randy stand and run his hands through his hair. “I hurt my family. As if my wife and I had not been through enough…” Randy’s eyes filled with tears. “And now, He’s punishing me…”

Hailey’s lips pursed. A knot formed in her throat, but she knew she had to say something. “I don’t think that Grant getting sick is your punishment,” she croaked out, repressed tears burning her throat, “but I do think that maybe it could be being used to get your attention.”

Randy lifted his head skyward. “You have my attention,” he declared.

“You said He’s gotten your attention before,” Hailey said, standing. She played nervously with her hands. “I don’t know,” she shrugged, sounding so young but looking to Randy like one of the bravest kids he had ever seen. “I just mean… God’s given you opportunities to put Him first before …maybe He’s just giving you another chance to actually do it.”

Randy offered Hailey a smile much too fragile for his stern features.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” Hailey shook her head.

“No,” Randy shook his head. He wiped a tear from his eye and took a deep breath. “You’re a smart girl, as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside. I see what my son sees in you.”

Hailey felt her cheeks blush. “Come-on,” she said, taking Randy’s hand. She smiled a tearful smile, her words full of a strength she didn’t know she possessed. “We need to pray for Grant; we need to pray for Grant’s doctors; and, most of all, we need to pray that God somehow uses this difficult time in all our lives to bring glory to His name.”

Hailey and Randy knelt at the alter again. Their heads bowed and their eyes closed, Randy began to pray, the words pouring out of his mouth with the conviction of a man who was humbled before an almighty God. The Spirit had moved that day. The little country girl with no real world experience, the daughter of his arch rival, the girl whose honor his son had defended so vigorously, seemed the most unlikely source to be used by God in such an awesome way, yet it had happened…the beautiful humbling of a decorated military veteran through the words of an innocent, young girl who would be blessed beyond measure because, with no thought of her own reward, she was a blessing to others.

Grant had been moved out of the ICU and into a regular hospital room, but he remained too sick to return home. The morning had been occupied with a lumbar puncture and a bone marrow biopsy. That afternoon, his fever had spiked. His family, properly scrubbed and disinfected, had not left his side. He was sitting in bed now with his mother standing next to him feeding him ice chips from a white styrofoam cup, Joanna fluffing the pillow at his head and Rachel straightening the blanket at his feet.

“What are you doing, Joey?” Grant scoffed.

“I’m just making sure you’re comfortable,” Joanna said, looking guilty.

“Back away from the pillow,” Grant grinned.

“Baby, we are all just trying to help,” Nora said, patting his hand. “You tell us what you need us to do.”

“Well,” Grant smiled, “I love you guys, but this is beginning to feel more like a death bed vigil than I’m comfortable with.”

Nora frowned as Grant took the cup of ice chips from her. “Baby, don’t say that,” she sighed.

“Are you kicking us out?” Joanna asked.

“I am,” Grant nodded. “For now. But, if this pillow goes flat, I promise you’ll be the first person I call.”

“Let us know if you need anything,” Nora insisted.

“I will,” Grant smiled.

The room slowly began to clear, yet Hailey remained in the chair next to the window.

“Looks like somebody didn’t get the memo,” Grant said with a playful wink.

Hailey rolled her eyes. “Who kicks his own family out of his hospital room?” she hissed.

“Well, excuse me,” Grant groaned, “but it’s a little creepy to be treated like the Grimm Reaper was spotted in the hallway. They were all acting like…”

“Like they love you?” Hailey smiled as she rolled her eyes again. “Can you believe the nerve of some people?”

Grant grinned as he patted the bed. “Feel free to act like you love me!”

Hailey stood to walk toward Grant’s bed, but she noticed his expression quickly change.

“Nevermind,” he gulped.

“Feeling sick?” Hailey sighed.

“Yeah,” Grant moaned.

“Lay down,” Hailey said easily, as she helped Grant lie back.

“I’m sorry,” Grant groaned.

“Don’t be,” Hailey swallowed as she felt his neck with the back of her hand. “I’ll fix you a damp cloth.”

“Thanks,” Grant said, forcing a smile.

Hailey bent down and lightly kissed Grant’s cheek. “I like being your nurse,” she smiled.

“Say that again later when I feel more like articulating a Grant-worthy, risqué response, okay?” Grant groaned, his eyes closing.

“Now you’re hallucinating, Baby,” Hailey whispered.

And, his eyes closed, his body relaxing, Grant managed a grin that made Hailey’s heart skip a beat.

Melissa held her hands up, showing Grant that she was using the hand sanitizer the nurses had instructed them to use.

Grant made a face. Though it was supposed to be scentless, the smell made Grant want to gag.

“I had a nice talk with Hailey this morning,” Melissa said, moving to the chair next to Grant’s bed.

“She told me,” Grant said weakly.

“She’s so wonderful,” Melissa declared. “She’s in the lobby with Leah right now, watching the fountain on the wall.”

“She wants to go into special education,” Grant said proudly.

“I think she’ll be great,” Melissa agreed. “She is so patient and loving with Leah.”

“She says Leah helped her find her calling,” Grant smiled.

Melissa looked toward the door, seeming distracted, knowing David and her daughter wouldn’t be far behind.

“Mel, what’s going on?” Grant eyed her.

One side of Melissa’s mouth rose into a loaded smile. “I have a secret,” she whispered.

Grant raised an eyebrow.

“I know this may sound strange, but I haven’t told anyone,” Melissa confessed excitedly. “Not even David. Until today, it’s been my little secret.”

Grant held up his hand, symbolizing Scout’s honor. “I’ll take it to my grave.”

Melissa ignored the pointedness of his words and reached for Grant’s hand. “I’m pregnant,” she blurted.

“What?” Grant gasped.

“Yeah,” Melissa nodded excited. “David and I are having another baby!”

“Why is that a secret?” Grant smiled.

Melissa shrugged, then her shoulders sank. “We said we weren’t going to have another baby,” she sighed. “You know…incase any of Leah’s problems are genetic…something we passed along to her.” Her excitement seemed to transition into anxiety. “I just don’t know what David is going to say. I mean, having a child like Leah is very expensive, and all the doctors’ appointments and therapy sessions can weigh very heavily on a marriage. Don’t get me wrong…Leah has been the greatest blessing that David and I could have ever imagined…it’s just…”

“Now you’re worried about the baby too,” Grant nodded.

“Yeah,” Melissa replied, lowering her head. “I mean…Leah’s perfect…”

“I understand,” Grant smiled at his sister-in-law.

Melissa laughed. “When I dreamed about becoming a mother, there were so many things I planned to do. I was going to be that mother who had it all together! And I am so not that mom! Autism kicks my butt on a lot of days. Today’s a good day…and I realize that even with a neurotypical child not every single day is going to be a great day, but it’s different. My days are consumed by Leah and her needs, and that may never ever change…no matter how old she gets. That’s why I’m so nervous about the new baby! What if the new baby has special needs…what if I just can’t do it all…”

“You’d find a way,” Grant said confidently. “I know you would. You’re an awesome mom!”

Melissa sighed. “I pray you’re right.”

“I’m glad God gave Leah to you and my brother,” Grant smiled. “A special kid deserves special parents.”

Melissa smiled, swiping at her tears. “I am truly blessed to be Leah’s mommy!”

Grant squeezed Melissa’s hand. “Maybe you’re worrying for nothing. But, even if there are problems with the baby, I know you…you’ll figure it out.”

Melissa smiled at Grant and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Baby,” she whispered as she noticed for the first time just how much weight Grant had lost since Christmas.

“Just promise me that if it’s a boy, you’ll name him Grant,” Grant winked.

“And if it’s a girl?” Melissa raised her eyebrow.

“Leah Junior,” Grant shrugged easily.

Melissa laughed with joyful delight. “I knew there was a reason you were the first person I told!”

Suddenly, Grant’s excitement turned introspective. “I want to meet the baby,” he said, an ominous undertone to his voice.

A lump formed in Melissa’s throat. She stared at her brother-in-law, her husband’s baby brother, her sweet daughter’s doting uncle, the young man so full of potential whom she had seen be transformed in front of her eyes. He had his daddy’s broad shoulders and his mother’s understated features, David’s dark brown eyes, Joanna’s libelous grin, Ike’s deep dimples, Rachel’s effortless beauty and blond hair that was all his own. He had been young, vibrant, so full of life… “You will,” she gulped, and she hated the uncertainty that rang in her own voice.

Having already stayed well past the start of the new year, Grant’s siblings had been forced by obligations and responsibilities to return to their homes in North Carolina. Randy had gone back too, but only long enough to pack another suitcase and return to Nora’s childhood bedroom that awaited him at Granny Miller’s house.

Hailey was sitting next to Grant’s bed, where she had been camped out for at least three days. Grant was getting thinner; his skin was incredibly pale, and deep purple circles had formed under his eyes. He had been violently ill over the past three days, so sick, in fact, that Hailey knew it had been more than forty-eight hours since he had spoken to her. She sat by his bed, watching nurses come in and out as they tended to him. She taped Get Well cards to the wall and read new ones that Jessica delivered from people in Hope Hull. She read every kind word to Grant, knowing that, even though there was no response, he could hear her. She prayed without ceasing; even at night, it was impossible not to be interrupted by nurses who were in and out, but sometimes she would hold Grant’s hand and pray aloud, even as they worked.

Hailey thought about the movies she had seen about characters who had cancer, and she realized now that, though the plot twists were always emotional, the stories were told through the glamorous lenses of a Hollywood camera. There was so much they didn’t tell you, so much reality they left out. They wouldn’t have been pretty to watch, but maybe they would have better prepared her for this nightmare. She wondered more about her mother’s passing than she ever had. She suddenly wanted to know the details of her suffering and the unspoken truths of her day-to-day fight. She wouldn’t ask her father though; she knew he probably didn’t want to talk about it. She certainly couldn’t imagine talking about her experience now to anyone else. Could anyone who hadn’t been in her position possibly understand the fears that danced in her head every moment of the day as she watched the person she loved battling such a ruthless disease?

Hailey felt alienated from her friends in a way, mostly because she felt much older than them now. Their relationships with their revolving boyfriends and girlfriends, winter formal drama and high school gossip all felt so trivial. She and Grant had gone from being high school sweethearts to two people in love, questioning college and sex and summer jobs and all the normal things. Now, they were so much more than that. All the layers that complicated young love had been peeled away in a life-altering moment, and they had grown closer in a way that had automatically ushered them from childhood into adulthood.

Grant was awake, his eyes fixed on Hailey as she read from the small devotional book she had been reading to him each day. When she was done reading, she closed the book, sat it aside and stood, so she could lean over next to Grant and kiss him on the cheek.

“How are you feelin’ today?” she whispered, not expecting a verbal answer.

Grant opened his mouth, and his voice had the scratchy gruffness of someone who hadn’t spoken in quite awhile. “Honestly, Babe, I think I would have to get better just to die.”

With those words, Hailey kissed him again, and a tearful smile broke out across her face…tearful because it was ripping her heart out to watch him suffer, but a smile none the less because those words reminded her that despite his change in appearance, the constant medications and the toll the cancer was taking on him, her Grant was still there.

The back door slammed, and Jack knew it meant Hailey was back from an early morning run. “Hailey?” he called as he hurried down the hallway to meet her.

Hailey’s eyes flashed anger, and Jack knew she was still upset with him.

Jack had forced her to begin commuting back and forth between Memphis and Hope Hull and insisted that she not miss anymore days of school. Hailey was supposed to come home from Memphis at night and get a good night’s sleep before going to class the next morning. In reality, she would spend the night at the hospital, journey back to Hope Hull, go for a run and sleep through classes at school. That is…if she went. On more than one occasion, Hailey had taken a quick nap and driven back to Memphis instead. She had missed basketball practice and the two non-conference games that remained on the Hope Hull schedule before the playoffs.

Jack was concerned with Hailey’s sudden disinterest in basketball, not because he didn’t understand her lack of desire to play on a team that she and Grant together had made into a force in the league all season, but because his little girl had always been dedicated to the game she loved. It was a part of who she was. She had been devoted to basketball and her school work since he packed up her plastic, Tennessee orange lunchbox and matching backpack and dropped her off for her first day of kindergarten. She was an honor student and a star athlete, but, now, she didn’t care about any of the things she had cared about before Grant’s diagnosis. Part of Jack understood; he understood the lack of motivation and the desire to give-up on everything that had once mattered. He recalled the dark days after his wife was diagnosed, but he’d had no choice but to keep going. He had two babies who depended solely on him. After his wife died, he couldn’t bury himself in grief because he was a single father with two baby daughters who didn’t deserve to lose both their mother and their father.

Hailey wiped sweat from her face with the bottom of her hoodie. “I’m not going to school today, so don’t even ask,” she declared harshly.

“Hailey, you are going to school today,” Jack insisted. “You have missed too many days, and your grades are slipping. Your teachers are concerned about you, and so am I.”

“Who cares about my grades?” Hailey fired back.

“I do. Your teachers do,” Jack said sternly. “Sweetheart, I got a visit from Mrs. Jordan yesterday informing me that you still haven’t turned in a book report that was due last week.”

Hailey rolled her eyes, and they turned cold as she stared at Jack. “I didn’t have time to write anything, but here’s an oral book report that you can feel free to pass along to Mrs. Jordan for me. I found a book about a sick, young athlete to be a little hard to stomach at the moment. Does he die at the end? Is that what happens? Does his death serve some greater purpose that all those who love him will come to understand after he’s gone? I’m sure there is a great message, but I don’t know, and I don’t want to know! So you can tell my teacher that if she is really as concerned about me as she claims, then she should worry about the fact that doctors have been pumping poison into my boyfriend’s body and not when or if I decide to turn in my stupid book report! Would she like one from Grant too? Should he read the book? I can take it over to the hospital to him.”

“I understand,” Jack nodded concedingly. “I didn’t realize; I’ll ask Mrs. Jordan if it’s possible for you to do your report on a different book.”

“Do you understand, Dad?” Hailey shrugged, unconvinced. “Do you understand that school is not my priority right now?”

“Yes,” Jack swallowed. “I understand that your heart and your mind are in a different place right now…but, Hailey, your future depends…”

“My future depends on Grant getting well!” Hailey practically yelled at Jack.

Jack’s shoulders fell, and his brow furrowed. “I know, Sweetheart. I know, and I pray every second of every day that you never have to know the pain of losing the person you love.”

Hailey was quiet as she took in her daddy’s words. Dropping her defensive demeanor, she sighed. Then the tears came fast and hard. “I wish it was over already, Daddy,” she cried. “The chemo is making him too sick. He’s so weak…I’m afraid that awful stuff is gonna eat away at him until he can’t hold himself up anymore. I hate this, Daddy…he’s sicker now than he ever was before. I thought this was suppose to make him better…but it’s gonna kill him!”

“We talked about this,” Jack said, his voice full of compassion as he swept his daughter into his arms. “You know that they have to make him worse before they can make him better. It’s just how it works, Sweetheart…it’s the nature of the disease.”

Jack walked to the couch and patted his knee. Hailey gladly sat down in her father’s lap, longing for a return to the days when Daddy could fix everything. “I love him, Daddy,” she cried.

“I know,” Jack said, brushing a strand of Hailey’s dark curls away from her face as she folded into him. He held her there for several minutes, knowing words were unnecessary as he let her cry. Memories of a videotape, shot on the very couch where he was sitting now, played in his mind. He knew exactly where it was; it was in a box in the top of his closet, where it was to remain tucked away until he felt the time was right. That time, he knew, was now.

Jack left Hailey on the couch and, moments later, returned with a single videotape in his hand. As he extended the VHS tape to his daughter, his face contorted with raw emotion. “I’ve been holding on to this for a long time. I’ve always intended to give it to you and your sister, but there never seemed to be a right time…”

Hailey took the videotape and turned it over in her hands to read the label. “What is …” her voice caught as she saw the words TO: MY GIRLS written in blue Sharpie. Her eyes dropped to the line below, LOVE: MAMA.

Jack frowned. “She made it very near the end, so it’s not easy to watch. If you don’t want to watch it that’s understandable, but I didn’t feel like it was right for me to keep it from you any longer.”

Hailey looked at the videotape and then at her father. Jack knelt down and kissed the top of Hailey’s head. “I’ll tell your teachers that you weren’t up to coming today,” he said as he reached for his jacket that lay across the back of the chair.

Hailey walked out the back door; she was headed for her secret tree house, planning to hide out until Jessica and Emily left for school, but, with the tangible reminder of her mother gripped in her hand, she stopped near the barn at her mother’s grave. “Mama,” she cried, “I need you.” She rocked back and forth, her knees pulled to her chest as she sat on the cold ground, the tape in her hand burning her palm with anticipation. When Hailey finally heard the girls pull out of the driveway and head off to school, she wiped her tears from her eyes. She glanced once more at her mother’s tombstone and stood up with renewed bravery.

Hailey walked inside and went immediately to the shower. Once she had showered and changed into black yoga pants and a white hoodie, she walked barefoot into the living room. She dropped to her knees in front of the television and pushed the home movie into the VCR.

The video began to play. A sick, feeble, frail, but hauntingly beautiful, woman smiled back at her, and, the moment her mother spoke, Hailey felt her heart begin to race.

“Hi, girls, it’s Mama,” came a voice so loving and so real that Hailey reached one hand toward the television and let her fingers linger on the screen. “By the time you see this tape, I’ll be in Heaven with the angels, but that means I have to leave my two favorite little angels behind. I know that Daddy will do an amazing job raising you girls, and that you’ll grow up knowing just how much Mama loves you.”

There was an extended pause, and Hailey’s mind drifted in a hundred different directions before the sound of her mother calling her name beckoned her in a way her mother had never been able to in life. “Hailey Jane, my sweet, sweet girl…” Hailey listened as her mother talked about the way they used to snuggle in the bed on lazy Saturday mornings and the way Hailey loved to watch her feed all the animals in the barn. She talked about her dreams for Hailey and her sister…how she hoped Hailey and Jessica would always remain close, how she hoped they would strive to make their daddy proud, how she prayed that they would love Jesus and know that He loved them even more than she did. She urged them to read the Bible. She warned them of schoolyard bullies and the dangers of talking to strangers. She told them to never be afraid to ask questions and to always treat others the way they would want to be treated.

Just when Hailey started to question why her father, after all these years, had chosen to show her this tape today, Hailey heard her mother’s voice again. “It seems impossible to imagine right now because Daddy just put you both down for your naps! But next thing you know, the two of you will have grown up…and fallen in love with young men who I will never have the opportunity to meet. I want you both to know that my hope for you is that you find a man as wonderful as your daddy. I pray he is loving and kind and that your heart is so lost in God that he must first seek Him in order to find his way into it. I hope he will protect that heart at any cost. I hope he is never ashamed to cry in front of you because if you share everything, there will be a time for tears. There is a season for everything, and I hope you feel each as deeply as the next because it’s the highs and the lows that allow everything else to be possible. I hope the man you love prays with you and for you. I hope he makes you laugh loudly and frequently. I hope he tells you that you’re beautiful even when you don’t look your best and that his kisses make you see fireworks like in the movies. I hope you never go to sleep angry with each other and that you never take a moment spent together for granted. Your time together may be long, but, as Daddy and I have learned, it may also be shorter than either of you ever dreamed. Respect the love you share; honor the love you share; treasure it and remember it vividly and often, but never let loss allow you to stop living. That’s not love! That’s not what I want for your daddy or for you girls. I hope that Daddy keeps his eyes on his dreams. I hope he never loses his faith or stops laughing or striving to be everything that I loved about him. Because the day he stops doing all of those things, he won’t be the man I loved at all…and I couldn’t stand for you girls to lose that man. Be strong. Be brave, girls. Be bold yet humble. Be graceful and gracious. Be faithful, respectful, understanding and dependable. Love deeply. And always, always, my babies, know that Mama is in Heaven where we will all be together again one day.”

Hailey wiped her tears, having to concentrate on controlling her breathing as she hit the stop button on the VCR. She sniffed and wiped at her nose with the back of her hand. She wanted to run to the school and tell her daddy that she understood. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and thank him, not only for the tape, but for having more than lived up to everything in it.

Hailey shut off the television and then the lights. She slid on her flip flops and reached for her keys on the table. She walked out to her truck in the driveway and got inside. Every part of her wanted to drive to the hospital. She thought about the test she had failed the day before and the math homework that she hadn’t done; she thought about the way she had moped around ignoring everyone, only offering polite enough smiles when someone in town tried to express their sympathy or concern. She would have to explain to Grant about what her mother had said, but she knew he would understand. She knew that Grant would want her to go to school, to finish out her senior year with the same dedication to her academics that she had always given them…that he would want her to be kind to others and thank them for their thoughts and their prayers in a way that made them know they were appreciated. That, after all, was the girl he had fallen in love with.

It would be a shame, Hailey decided as she pulled into the school parking lot, for Grant to win the battle he was fighting, only to find Hailey a depressed, unrecognizable version of her former self, totally and completely unprepared to follow him to Boston. She had prayed for his recovery, but nothing about her actions over the past few days indicated that she had faith that God would actually answer her prayers. She had asked for a full recovery, and now she was going to prepare for just that.

Grant was sitting on the couch in the living room, eating his second plate of macaroni and cheese when Hailey came to sit next to him. He was hungry all the time now, and he constantly craved pasta and bread. Though he had previously complained of the sores his medications left on the inside of his mouth and how nothing had any taste at all, it seemed now that he couldn’t get enough of his new high-carbohydrate diet.

Hailey sat next to him, offering him a handful of oral medications that Nora had sent her in with. “Thanks,” he said as he took them from her. He lifted his water bottle, took his medicine and sat his plate aside.

Hailey gently stroked the back of Grant’s head in a gesture of tender affection as she kissed his cheek; then she swallowed hard, not surprised, when she pulled back fingers laced with fine strands of beautiful, blond hair.

“Alopecia,” Grant mumbled, and Hailey wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or to himself.

“What does that mean?” Hailey asked softly, not knowing if she could stand to hear the answer.

“Lack or loss of hair, a common side effect of cancer treatment,” Grant told her so matter-of-factly that she wanted to shake him. He spoke like some sort of medical dictionary lately, offering up words and inevitably sharing the definition. Hailey rested her head against Grant’s shoulder as she closed her eyes and silently wished he would stop reading so much about cancer. Leukemia had been a scary enough word for her to comprehend, but Grant seemed to make it his daily mission now to discover an equally frightening word related to the disease.

“Those words are all scary to me,” Hailey admitted.

Grant nodded, adding cynically, “Leukemia might kill me but at least it’s expanding my vocabulary first, right? Ironic, isn’t it, that dying could be such an educational experience?”

“You’re not dying,” Hailey said curtly. She sat up and crossed her arms. “Besides, it’s probably better if you stop reading so much about what’s happening to your body,” she suggested.

“Why?” Grant asked without a hint of anything but sincerity.

Hailey shrugged. “You don’t need to know every detail. It’s scary. You should just trust that your doctors know what they’re doing.”

“I can’t help it,” Grant replied. “I have to know the reality of what I’m facing. I do trust my doctors. It’s just that if I know what I’m up against, I feel like I have a better chance of beating it.” He pulled Hailey close to him. “Look at it like this,” he explained with tender empathy. “When you scout another team before a big game, do you trust Jack to watch the game film for you?”

“No,” Hailey gulped, realizing that, in a way, he had a point.

“No,” Grant agreed. “You know that he’s the coach, and you trust the game plan that he comes up with, but you know that if you are going to be the one out on the court defending the point guard that wants to invade your court, you have to watch the game film yourself. You have to know the moves he’s gonna make before he makes them. You have to know how he likes to attack the basket and decide for yourself what your best chance for successfully defending him is.”

When Grant finished, Hailey eyes were full of tears.

Grant smiled. “Leukemia is an opponent I have to face…it’s just basketball on a life and death scale. That’s all it is, Hails.”

“Well, in that case,” Hailey said, gritting her teeth in an attempt to keep from crying, “I like your odds!”

Grant wrinkled his nose, and he lifted one finger, pointing it toward his hair. “This in-between stage is really messing with my image and my ego. I think it’s about time we do something about it. What do you say?”

Hailey and Grant stood in the bathroom, staring into the mirror as Grant held an electric razor in one hand. Hailey watched him sit the razor on the counter and pick up a pair of scissors. Then, hesitantly, he sat those down too. “I can’t do it,” he finally scoffed.

“What do you mean?” Hailey gulped.

“I think I mean that your boyfriend is vainer than either of us thought,” Grant sighed. He turned from side to side, unsuccessfully trying to work strands of his remaining hair over the noticeable gaps that ran rampant around them. For his efforts, he ended up with a handful of hair that made him snarl into the mirror.

Hailey rubbed his back. “It’s okay,” she said sympathetically.

Grant’s eyes shifted to her. “Will you do it?” he gulped.

Hailey motioned for Grant to sit down on the toilet. She placed a towel around his shoulders and began to work with extreme focus.

“You’re doing great,” Grant kept reassuring her.

“I’m nervous,” Hailey exhaled. Cutting the hair didn’t bother her; the thought of cutting him terrified her. Not even brushing your teeth could be normal for people with Leukemia; there were extreme risks involved in the simplest activities. If she was to cut him, the resulting complications could be tragic. “Maybe we should go to a professional?” Hailey sighed.

“Amateurs built the ark; professionals built the Titanic,” Grant scoffed. Then he smiled. “Hailey, I trust you,” he sighed. “You’re doing fine.”

“Okay,” Hailey swallowed as she tapped Grant’s shoulders. “Be still. Please.”

When Hailey was done, Grant took one glance at the little pile of blond hair on the bathroom floor and then stared at himself in the mirror. A smile broke out on his face as he raised his hands to his head. “Gotta tell you, the general is gonna love this look.”

“You look ready for basic training,” Hailey agreed with a smile.

“You did a good job,” Grant said, putting his arm around Hailey.

Hailey twisted a curl of her own hair around her finger as she stared thoughtfully into the mirror.

“Hails?” Grant said as he reached for her hand.

“What?” Hailey shrugged. “I was just thinking that I could shave mine off, and we can be skinheads together.”

“No,” Grant shook his head vehemently.

“I’ve heard of people doing it,” Hailey shrugged. “I think it’s a sweet gesture. I’m willing…”

“Hailey, look at me,” Grant said, turning her chin to face him. “Promise me that you won’t do anything foolish out of some misguided sense of solidarity.”

Hailey laughed. “Fine,” she rolled her eyes. “We don’t have to shave mine!”

“Good,” Grant smiled, “because that could actually kill me.”

“Hey!” Hailey exclaimed. “What if I was the one who was sick, and all my hair fell out? Would you love me any less?”

“No,” Grant said, his tone serious. “But,” he smiled, “you’re not sick. You get to keep your hair…because somebody has to be the looker in this relationship, and since it can no longer be me…”

“I don’t know,” Hailey grinned. “You’re still lookin’ pretty cute if you ask me.”

Grant motioned toward the floor. “Look at that! Look at that, Hailey! That’s good hair!”

Hailey laughed. “Very nice hair, indeed.” She wrapped her arms around Grant’s waist. “And you’ll have great hair again before you know it.”

“I don’t know,” Grant pondered. “What if it comes back all curly?”

“Curls…I couldn’t imagine,” Hailey kidded back. “How awful!”

“What if it’s curly and dark…” Grant curled his lip.

“We might have a problem then,” Hailey nodded. “I signed up for a hot blond.” Grant followed Hailey into her room. “I got you something,” she smiled.

Grant took the bag she handed him and eyed her curiously. “A present?”

“Yes,” Hailey smiled. “And it’s not about your hair or how you look, so don’t even go there. This is so much more than that, Grant…it’s a reminder that you’re gonna beat this… it’s a reminder of what we have to look forward to…a symbol of the future that you and I will have together.”

“Future…I like that word,” Grant nodded as he reached into the bag and pulled out a crimson baseball cap with a Harvard insignia.

“Me too,” Hailey smiled as she put her arms around Grant’s neck.

Hailey stood in the middle of the gym floor, her uniform on and a basketball resting on her hip. She looked around, seeing the court, the hardwood floors, the opposing team, the cheering crowd; she was vaguely aware of the fanfare that had taken over the University of Memphis’ gymnasium for the first round of the high school playoffs, but everything seemed to be happening behind a thick layer of fog that Hailey couldn’t shake.

She knew she owed it to her team to play her best. She knew how badly Grant wanted to play, how much he longed to be out there playing point guard and how much it disappointed him to be forced to the sidelines during such a crucial point in their season. Not only could he not play, he couldn’t even come to watch his team because the crowds posed too much of a risk to his devastated immune system.

Hailey made it through the first quarter, though her game was clearly off. She had played countless basketball games in her lifetime without Grant, but, no matter how many times she tried to convince herself that tonight was no different, the devil on her other shoulder assured her that it was different…very different.

Hailey dribbled down the court, her legs feeling sluggish beneath her. Her thoughts seemed to be spinning out of control even as her eyes focused on the basket. In her mind’s eye, she saw flashes of hospital scenes and then vivid memories of the moments when she had been falling in love with the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Lost in her own thoughts in a crowd full of people, she remembered it all so clearly…she and Grant in the snow, she and Grant in the barn, she and Grant on their morning runs, she and Grant playing one-on-one in the driveway, leaping into his arms after a big win. The muffled sounds of the crowd seemed a hundred miles away. The next thing Hailey knew, she was on her knees watching the air ball sail out of her hands and the crowd had gone silent.

Paul knelt next to her and pulled her into his arms. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I got you, Hails.”

Only then did Hailey realize she was crying. She started to wipe her tears, but it struck her that this boy who had his arms around her now, this friend she had grown up with, was not the boy whose arms she wanted around her. Hailey looked up at Paul, but when she looked into his eyes, she didn’t see her friend, she only saw the boy who had made Grant’s first days in town so miserable. She shoved him away from her. “Don’t touch me,” she demanded.

“Hailey,” Paul sighed as he held her tighter.

“You never even gave him a chance,” Hailey cried. “You were so mean to him.”

Paul’s words weren’t defensive or careless. He simply continued holding Hailey close and said, “I was wrong, Hails, and I’m sorry.”

Hailey sobbed as her head fell to rest against Paul’s chest. She wanted to apologize for lashing out at him, but she just let him guide her toward the sideline as the crowd began to cheer.

Hailey was embarrassed to hear them applauding her; an on-court meltdown after an air ball that didn’t make it anywhere remotely near the basket was certainly not how she imagined her stellar high school basketball career ending, but, then again, nothing in her life was how she had imagined it.

It was Saturday night. Granny Miller sat between Nora and Randy in the waiting room, and Pastor Jordan had just walked in. Jack was on the telephone thanking Maude and Jim, who had delivered dinner to the house right as a spike in Grant’s temperature had them preparing to go back to the hospital. They had followed all the rules; Grant had missed the game, avoided the crowd, but here they were…back at the hospital after the thermometer read 102.1º.

“Nora wanted me to make sure y’all knew how much we appreciate, not only dinner, but the kindness that everyone has shown her,” Jack was saying. “Randy sends his compliments to the chef; I told him that once the diner is reopened, we’ll have to bring him down for some world famous meatloaf and potatoes.” There was a pause; Maude was talking. Jack smiled and nodded his head. “Yes, Ma’am, we brought it right along with us. The girls ate theirs right here in the waiting room floor.”

Hailey listened to her dad as he explained over the phone how a diagnosis of Pneumonia had landed Grant in the ICU. She watched as Pastor Jordan sat with Grant’s parents, offering words of encouragement. Jessica was on one side of her, and Emily was on the other; when Granny Miller hobbled over to offer them cookies from a tin, all three gladly accepted.

“How are you holdin’ up, Sugar?” Granny Miller asked her.

“I’m okay,” Hailey nodded as she sipped sweet tea from a straw in a large styrofoam cup. “I was able to say a prayer with Grant before they took him back. He’s a fighter; he’ll be over this in a couple days.”

Granny Miller nodded as she pointed her bony finger at Hailey. “I told him to stay inside and out of that cold,” she shook her head.

Hailey smiled, knowing that the extent of Grant’s exposure to the mild winter elements had been the trip he made from the car to the house the day he had been released from the hospital the time before. She also knew that cold weather did not actually cause colds, but she bit her tongue, knowing it would do no good to say anything.

Granny wasn’t done. “I tried to get that boy to take some of the homemade vitamin syrup I whipped up, but you know how stubborn he can be. It probably would have done him a world of good.”

Hailey smiled and shook her head in polite agreement. “He was probably just worried about those highly acidic fruits irritating his mouth,” she said with a wrinkle of her nose. There was no defensiveness in her tone, no hint that this had been previously discussed with Granny and that it was she who was the stubborn one. Granny was trying her best Hailey decided. She loved her grandson and was trying to express that love in the only way she knew how.

Granny had been baking pies and bringing them to the house every day. She had made countless tins of cookies for the hospital…for family, visitors, nurses and doctors alike. She, along with Pastor Jordan and his wife, had organized the church’s efforts, so that food had been provided for the family each day since Grant got sick. Granny and Grant may never see eye-to-eye Hailey knew, but Dottie Miller was doing all she knew how. For perhaps the first time, Hailey wondered what it had been like for her when she lost her husband…what it had been like for her when her only child, her precious daughter, had left Tennessee to pursue a life so different than anything Dottie had ever imagined for her.

Dottie had not shared in the everyday joys of her grandchildren; her relationship with them had been long-distance at best and practically non-existent by the time her youngest grandson was born. During the first two years of Grant’s life, Nora and Randy had been faced with the rape of their daughter, the birth of their first grandchild and the death of their son. Hailey couldn’t imagine the stress that Nora must have felt during those times, all the while as her husband was gone for months at a time doing a job that must have weighed heavily on Nora. Having a small child brought enough stress of its own, Hailey thought… and Nora, during that time in her life, suddenly had two babies, both very unexpected. Hailey would never understand how Granny had come to blame so much of Nora’s stress during that time, and in the years to come, on an innocent little boy, who, Hailey readily admitted had become less and less innocent with each passing year; but still, shenanigans aside and a fierce independent spirit to boot, he wasn’t the reason his mother left Tennessee or the reason she stayed away for too long at a time.

With this thought, Hailey’s mind drifted. He would be the reason she left Tennessee. He would be the reason that her life was destined to take a different course than anything Dottie Miller, or her generation of Hope Hull’s blue-haired choir ladies who represented some of the best of small town America, could envision. She thought about her father, and she made a mental note that no matter where her life took her, she would visit Hope Hull often, remember where she came from and make sure that her daddy knew that she never went off seeking anything better than the life he had provided her…because that didn’t exist.

Love can make you look at things differently than you ever have before. Love was the reason a young Nora Jean Miller had fled her hometown for life as an Army wife. Love was the reason Jack Nelson had dedicated his life to his daughters. Love, she knew, was the reason she would leave…but it would also be the thing that brought her back…often.

Granny sat down in the chair Jessica had abandoned, and Hailey rested her cheek lovingly against Granny’s bony shoulder. She tried to think of anything to say that would let Granny know she was appreciated. She was getting tired and didn’t want to get into anything too deep, so she mustered a sweet smile and said something she knew Granny would love: “I mixed up Grant a special, homemade, baking soda mouthwash that is supposed to help prevent any infection. It was easy; I got the recipe off the internet. He said I had been spending too much time with you, but he was pretty proud.”

Granny’s pride was written all over her face. “You are good girl, Hailey Jane Nelson,” she said patting Hailey’s leg. “My grandson is lucky to have you.”

Hailey closed her eyes. I’m the lucky one she thought.

Emily gently rubbed Hailey’s arm. “How ya doin’, Hails?” she asked softly.

Hailey shrugged. “I’m good,” she said confidently. “I’ll tell you though, it’s hard to imagine living the majority of your life without someone and sitting here now not being able to imagine life without him.”

“I’ve known Grant all my life,” Emily said with a hug. “The unhappy, guarded, perpetually lonely boy who buried his thoughts and his feeling so deep inside himself that they were eating him alive has become this amazing guy who has given his whole heart away and trusted you to hold on to it forever.”

“He was always just a diamond in the rough waiting for someone to polish him up,” Hailey joked.

“He’s gonna be okay,” Emily said, squeezing Hailey’s hand.

“I will hold on to his heart forever,” Hailey said confidently. She lowered her head, “but I’d really like to be able to hold his hand too. You know?”

Randy stood by Grant’s bed watching his son’s bare chest rise and fall. Nora, asleep on a small cot by the window, awoke to watch her husband bow his head and softly whisper a prayer for their sleeping child.

She waited until he was done and sat up, pulling her blanket over her shoulders. The room was perpetually chilly, but, though her limbs were cold, her heart was warm. She stood and walked to join her husband, easily situating herself where she fit like a puzzle piece tucked under his arm.

They stood for a long moment, watching Grant sleep. Then they walked over to the window where night was slowly becoming day.

“Sit down,” Nora told Randy. “There is something I’ve been meaning to say to you, yet we always seem to be interrupted by nurses or test results or phone calls or a host of other things that I am grateful for.”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you too,” Randy agreed.

Then, as if on cue, a nurse walked in. She smiled at Randy and Nora, quickly attended to Grant’s IV and was gone in a flash.

“You first,” Randy smiled.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about the journey that brought me back here,” Nora said. “Though the circumstances that sent me running back here were certainly something I would erase if I had the power to rewrite history, I think this trip was important for me in a number of ways. For a long time, I questioned why I ran back here at all. But, I think it was all part of God’s plan for my life…for our lives. I had to come back here, to start over, to get back to my roots…to remember my true love.”

The tips of Randy’s ears went fire red, but Nora quickly took his hands and gave him a reassuring shake of her head. “Randy,” she said almost scoldingly. “I have never been in love with Jack. It’s always been you. I wasn’t talking about him. Coming back here reminded me of the most simple truth there is…what happened in our marriage wasn’t that we stopped loving each other…it was that we lost our foundation. Randy, the day I married you, we were a couple who promised before God and our families and friends to make Him the center of our marriage and our family. Being here reminded me of that. At some point during our marriage it became all about us and our problems!”

Randy stared into the tired eyes of his wife, eyes suddenly filled with a renewed purpose. “Randy, real love matures over time…but without a solid foundation, problems and tragedies and daily hardships start to weight too heavily.” Nora glanced over at Grant asleep in his bed and then back at her husband. “You are the only man I want, the only man I have ever wanted, but you, nor my children or my grandchildren, can come first in my life anymore…it’s not fair to any of you.”

Randy kissed the side of Nora’s head. “Remember when we used to pray together?”

Nora nodded.

“Why did we ever stop?” Randy asked.

“The same reason that a lot of people do,” Nora gulped. “Our society runs at a breakneck pace. There just isn’t time for everything! Between your job and raising kids and dealing with every uncertainty that both of those things constantly presented, it was one of the things that just seemed easy to ignore…”

Randy nodded his head; his conversation with Hailey several weeks before replayed in his mind. “You know, in a lot of ways, Hailey reminds me of you when we first met.”

Nora walked over to stand next to Grant’s bed. She glanced over her shoulder at Randy, who had followed her. “One day I hope that you and I get to sit them down and show them, by our example, what a marriage should be.”

Randy put his arms around his wife. “I think I have said more prayers in the last couple months than I have in years, and I know that’s not a good thing…but you have to start somewhere, right? Like, when you fall off the horse, you’ve got to pick yourself up, dust yourself off and get back on.”

Nora smiled as she kissed her husband’s cheek. She held up her left hand to reveal her wedding ring. “It’s a circle with no end. You and I are forever. But God’s got to be the center because we’re not strong enough to make it work without Him.”

Randy looked at Grant, his breaths labored. “We’ve experienced more than our share of hard times over the years, but God sure has blessed us. Our kids turned out pretty well, huh?” Tears formed in Randy’s eyes. “Is this…do you think this is…”

“I don’t know,” Nora shook her head. “I don’t know if Grant getting sick is God’s way of getting our attention, but He’s used it to do just that.”

“Do you think if we tell Him the kick in the pants has our attention that we can take our boy home?” Randy gulped.

Nora smiled empathetically as she rested her cheek against Randy’s chest. “I don’t know God’s plan or His timeline for any of this, but I do know that He will take care of my baby…one way or another.”

“He’s taking care of Ike,” Randy nodded confidently.

“He blessed us with Eisenhower for eighteen years,” Nora agreed. “What a precious, precious gift that was…and what an even more precious gift to know that the day He took our sweet boy back home with Him, He took him to a place so much more wonderful than the home we could give him here.”

“And here we are again,” Randy sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, Nora; I find incredible solace in knowing that when I couldn’t get to my son amidst those flames, when I couldn’t be the earthly father he deserved that his Heavenly Father was there to cradle him in his arms and carry him away to his eternal resting place. But, Nora, I just don’t want to believe that a father is supposed to have to bury his children. That is totally opposite of the way it is supposed to be. When I die, my kids are all supposed to be at my funeral saying nice things about what a devoted father and grandfather I was. I gave a eulogy for one of my sons…” Randy stopped, tears flooding his eyes, “I want this kid to give mine.”

Grant and Hailey sat side-by-side on the floor, their books propped on the coffee table, Hailey jotting answers down in her vocabulary workbook, and Grant filling out answers to his second, make-up, calculus test of the evening. He tossed it aside and reached for the next sheet of paper.

“Are you kidding me?” Hailey laughed, looking up from her workbook.

“Only one more assignment to go, and I am all caught up. You can turn this folder in to Principal Jordan in the morning,” Grant shrugged.

Hailey frowned. “I wish you could come to school with me.”

Grant shook his head as he skimmed the words on the page in front of him. “I wish I could too, Baby, but it has been confirmed that the good people of Hope Hull High, as I suspected all along…have cooties.”

Hailey laughed as she kissed Grant’s cheek.

He turned to face her. “One kiss on the lips?” he asked.

“That’s against the rules,” Hailey grinned.

“Fine then,” Grant turned his head. “I have a paper to write anyway.”

Hailey laughed as Grant began writing. “Don’t you need to think about that for awhile? You weren’t even in class when we discussed the assignment!”

“Okay…let’s try the power of osmosis,” Grant said, leaning his head next to Hailey’s. “Just sit here with me and let your thoughts seep into mine.”

“Ha,” Hailey scoffed as she pulled away. “You might want to check and see what kind of grade I scored on that paper first!”

Grant smiled. “In that case, back to BSing my way through it.”

Hailey rolled her eyes. “Don’t say that.”

“Don’t roll your eyes. Everybody knows it’s the key to collegiate success. The best BSer wins,” Grant said confidently.

“Is that so?” Hailey rolled her eyes.

“Of course it is,” Grant said, without missing a beat as he scribbled cursive onto a sheet of blank notebook paper.

Hailey read what Grant was writing, noticing the difference his newly puffy hands made in his handwriting. “BS…Brilliant Scholar?” she asked. “Beyond Smart? Best Student? Brainy Savant? Brightest Sage?”

Grant grinned. “Sage?” he gestured toward her book. “Don’t even act like you knew what that word meant before you read it in that vocabulary lesson.”

“I did know what it meant!” Hailey exclaimed. “I use that word all the time!”

“You’re gonna force me to say it again,” Grant winked. “Because I am calling total…”

Hailey laughed as she popped his arm. Her nose wrinkled as her mouth stretched wide, revealing a line of tightly clinched white teeth. “Sorry,” she gulped, gently rubbing his arm.

“Well, now you’ve got to make up for that,” Grant shook his head as he tossed his folder of make-up work aside.

Hailey leaned into Grant, kissing his lips with tender affection. “We can’t do this,” she whispered. “I don’t want to be the one to give you some nasty germ that lands you back in the hospital.”

“The kiss of death,” Grant joked.

Hailey moved her hand to Grant’s cheek. His face was chubbier from the steroids, but his eyes held the same certainty they always had. For several seconds Hailey let herself get lost in Grant’s kiss. Each time their lips parted, they stared into each other’s eyes for a quick moment before rushing their lips back together to kiss with increasing veracity.

It was Grant who pulled away first.

“You okay?” Hailey gulped.

“Yeah,” Grant smiled.

“Tell me the truth,” Hailey insisted.

“I’m fine,” Grant laughed. “Just a little queasy.”

“Well, that’s just what every girl wants to hear!” Hailey chided.

“No offense,” Grant shook his head with a chuckle.

“It’s okay,” Hailey threw her arms up with a playful, exasperated sigh. “Maybe on our wedding night, I can manage to make you completely nauseous with my feminine allure!”

At this point the protocol was familiar. Grant walked in and sat up on the table where a familiar nurse directed him. He nodded to the man on his right, who, as a way of introduction, simply said, “lung cancer.”

To which Grant replied, “AML.”

The man, in his late seventies if not early eighties, wore a simple, plaid, button- down shirt, khaki pants with an elastic waist and a floppy, green fishing hat that made Grant smile.

“Harvard?” the man asked, taking notice of Grant’s baseball cap.

“Yes, Sir,” Grant nodded. “I’m finishing up high school now, but, as soon as my doctors give me the go-ahead, Harvard is the plan.”

“Good for you,” the old man said with a respectful nod.

A nurse walked over and set Grant up with his chemotherapy treatment. “How ya doin’, Tom?” she asked the old man.

“I’m still here,” Tom said, and the nurse offered him a caring pat on the shoulder as she hurried off to attend to other business.

“They gave me six months,” Tom said, surprising Grant.

“How long have you been in treatment?” Grant asked.

“About a year,” Tom shrugged easily, and it was obvious that the small, yellow sheet of paper folded in Grant’s hand had caught the old man’s attention. “What’s that?” Tom asked, perhaps eager to change the subject.

Grant held up the folded paper. “My girlfriend likes to put a note in my pocket every morning that I have to come get chemo while she’s in school. It’s probably a Bible verse.”

“That’s nice,” Tom said, looking down.

“Yeah,” Grant nodded, unfolding the paper. “Do you mind?”

Tom glanced over at him. “No, go ahead,” he agreed.

“‘I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD,” Grant read aloud, “‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”

“It says that in the Bible?” Tom asked, turning to face Grant.

“Yes, Sir,” Grant nodded. “Jeremiah 29:11,” he said from memory. He blinked as he noticed how intently the stranger was staring at him now. “Would you like me to pray with you?” Grant heard himself say before he could stop himself.

“I’ve never really prayed before,” Tom shook his head, raising his hands as if indicating he wasn’t sure what to do.

James 5:15-16 played in Grant’s head: “The prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise him up. If he has sinned, he will be forgiven… Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other, so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.”

“My wife died twelve years ago. She always did all the praying for both of us,” Tom offered. “Lung cancer,” he added by way of explanation. “Things just haven’t been the same since I lost her.”

“I can’t imagine,” Grant shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“She was a good woman,” Tom nodded.

Ephesians 4:11-13 provided the continuation of the inner-monolog in Grant’s head: “It was Christ who gave some to be apostles, some to be prophets, some to be evangelists, and some to be pastors and teachers, to prepare God’s people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ.”

Grant swallowed hard. He couldn’t believe he was sitting face-to-face with a man who had been given only months to live, being practically served up an opportunity to witness and feeling convicted to do so. Still, he wished Hailey was there; she was so good at this sort of thing.

Tom reached his hand out to Grant. “Will you pray for us?”

“Okay, God, I get it!” Grant wanted to scream. Instead, he smiled and took Tom’s hand. The words began to flow from his mouth with such extreme ease that he knew he was but a mouthpiece. Even as he spoke, he made a mental note that he’d never find a speech writer this good in any political arena. There was no fluff. There was no fancy oratorical performance full of pretension but lacking substance and sincerity because the promises were not empty or oozing with self-importance. His words were straight-forward, from the heart, full of reminders of God’s unfailing love and delivered with a humbleness of spirit that said he understood the concept of grace. As Tom began squeezing Grant’s hand more tightly with each passing word, Grant knew that an old man he had never met in his life before, seemingly, meeting him by coincidence today had been a part of the plan all along.

Tom was smiling at Grant when a nurse came to get him. “Tom, it’s time for your yogurt. Your granddaughter is waiting on you,” she said.

“This here’s a Harvard boy,” Tom motioned at Grant.

The nurse winked at Grant. “He’s got a way of charming the nurses around here, Tom. Has he done charmed you too?”

Tom followed the nurse to the door. When he got to the exit, he slowly turned back around. “What’s your name, kid?” he called.

Grant smiled and tipped his hat at the old man. “Grant…and it was nice to meet you, Tom.”

Tom pushed the door open and looked back over his shoulder before going out to meet his granddaughter. “I’ll pray for you, Grant,” he declared with a sincere nod.

“What are we gonna do without my dad here today to interrogate the nurses and harass the doctors?” Grant laughed as he and Hailey sat waiting for Grant’s treatment to begin. “I swear he orders them around like he knows the first thing about Leukemia!”

“He just knows what I know,” Hailey smiled, sitting aside the copy of Seventeen magazine she had been mindlessly flipping through, “that he would move Heaven and Earth to get you well.”

Just then, a little girl skipped into the room, and she immediately caught Grant and Hailey’s attention, most likely because she had the same red hair as Leah. “Hi,” the friendly four-year-old waved to them. “My name’s Jillian!” Jillian’s smile stretched across her face, her white, freckled cheeks glowing pink with the radiance of her grin. Her tiny chin rested on top of the teddy bear she was holding tightly to her chest. The bear was brown with big brown eyes; his tattered body was clearly minus some of its original stuffing, everything about him indicating years of love.

“Hi, Jillian!” Hailey smiled back. “My name’s Hailey. You sure are cute!”

“Are you sick?” Jillian asked bluntly.

The question caught Hailey off-guard. “No,” she shook her head slowly. “I’m not sick…but my boyfriend is.”

“I know,” Jillian declared. “He doesn’t have any hair.” Jillian turned her attention to Grant. “What’s your name?”

Grant smiled at the inquisitive little girl and told her his name.

Hailey gently squeezed the foot of the teddy bear that now dangled below Jillian’s arm. “What’s your bear’s name?”

“Zachariah,” Jillian replied quickly.

“Zachariah?” Grant grinned with a chuckle.

“I thought it was a good name for a bear,” Jillian declared with a shrug.

“And it is,” Hailey smiled.

“Yeah,” Grant agreed. “Everybody’s got a bear named Teddy…but I bet you’re the only one with a bear named Zachariah. It must mean he’s special.”

Jillian liked that and, without hesitation, she climbed into Grant’s lap. “Zachariah Van Landingham,” she declared with utmost sincerity.

Hailey smiled, admiring the ease with which Grant welcomed his new friend.

“Do you want to hold Zachariah?” Jillian offered Grant.

“Sure,” Grant smiled as he took the bear. “Hello, Zachariah. How’s it going?”

“He’s shy I guess,” Jillian shrugged when Zachariah didn’t reply.

Grant held the bear in front of his face. “No, I’m not!” he said in a cartoon voice. He nuzzled the bear against Jillian’s face. “I’m not shy at all, Silly Billy.” He turned the bear to himself. “Grant, this is my best friend Jillian.” He made loud kissing noises as he pecked the bear’s mouth against Jillian’s cheek.

Jillian giggled wildly. Then she rested her head on Grant’s shoulder, and Grant snuggled Zachariah next to her.

“Are you scared to be sick?” Jillian asked, almost in a whisper.

There was a brief pause during which Grant absently stroked the bear’s arm with his finger. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “I guess I am scared of being sick, but I also have faith in getting well.”

Hailey realized she was crying, and she blotted tears away before Grant or Jillian could see them, which worked until Jillian said, “me too.”

A young woman walked into the waiting room. “There you are,” she gasped when she saw her daughter. “Didn’t I tell you not to run off while I was talking to your doctor?”

“Hi, Mommy!” Jillian exclaimed. “This is my new friend; his name is Grant. He doesn’t have any hair.”

“Hi, Grant,” the attractive young woman laughed, embarrassed. “Thank you for being so sweet to her; I’m sorry she bothered you.”

“Oh, she didn’t bother us,” Grant replied quickly. He swallowed. “I’m sorry… I noticed you said that you were talking to her doctor…?”

Jillian’s mother smiled as she put on a brave face. “Jillian has Leukemia…she’s starting treatments again today.”

“Again?” Hailey gulped, feeling there was a long story behind that word.

“Yeah, she and Zachariah are old pros,” the young woman said as she took her daughter’s hands and helped her off of Grant’s lap. “She’s been in remission for nearly six months, but the cancer’s back now.”

“Oh my goodness,” Hailey sighed. “When was she diagnosed?”

“At a year…before she even remembers it,” the woman nodded. “She’s been in remission three times, but it never lasts. There are complications that make her case challenging.”

“Grant’s sick too, Mommy,” Jillian announced. “But Zachariah can make him feel better, just like he always makes me feel better in the hospital! Isn’t that right? That’s why Zachariah wanted to give him hugs! Isn’t that right, Mommy?”

“Yes, Baby…that’s right,” the woman nodded with a forced smile. She lifted her little girl onto her hip. “Do you have Leukemia too?” she asked Grant.

“Yeah,” Grant nodded.

“I’m sorry,” the woman sighed.

Grant shook his head as he stared at Jillian and then at her mother. “No, I’m sorry…”

“Thank you,” the woman smiled. “But she’s a tough little girl; we’ll make it.” She turned to walk away. “Say bye-bye, Jillian,” she told her daughter.

“Bye Grant! Bye Hailey!” Jillian waved. She held up her teddy bear and, waving his arm, she mimicked the voice that Grant had used as she called, “bye, Grant! I love you!”

As Jillian and her mother disappeared around the corner, Hailey laid her head over on Grant’s shoulder. “Wow,” she exhaled.

“Yeah,” Grant gulped. “That’ll put things in perspective real quick, huh?”

“She’s so happy…and upbeat,” Hailey reflected.

“How can a kid that was diagnosed with Leukemia before she could ever remember not being sick be so optimistic?” Grant grumbled, sickened by the thought that a child like Jillian had faced the things he had been through lately. “Better medicine than I’ll get anywhere else in this place today.”

“She was amazing,” Hailey agreed. She wove her fingers in Grant’s. “I’ve been doing a lot of praying lately…I’ll definitely be adding her to the list.”

“She’s gonna make it,” Grant said confidently.

Hailey nodded. “You both are,” she replied.

In the weeks that followed, Grant and Jillian became inseparable on the mornings they were both at the hospital for treatments. They took a tag-team approach to fighting cancer, each encouraging the other. On many days Grant would hold Jillian and read to her. He would read her happy fairy tales that transported them both, if only for a short time, away from the realities of Leukemia to worlds where the only fears were of talking wolves and witches and other figments of the imagination. On other days he read her Bible stories about miracles like when Jesus fed the masses with only five loaves of bread and two fish, how Daniel survived the lion’s den and Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego survived the fiery furnace, how David slayed the giant and how Lazarus was raised from the dead. On other days Grant would listen as Jillian relayed, with childlike ease, stories about her previous hospital visits. They laughed as they whispered back and forth, sharing the secret messages that Zachariah spoke only to them. On bad mornings when one of them was more sick than usual, Grant and Jillian would simply sit together quietly, holding hands and finding amazing strength in the willpower of the other.

“The success rate of a related donor has statistically proven more successful than using the marrow of an unrelated donor, though unrelated matches are not at all uncommon. Siblings usually provide the best opportunity for a match.” Nora and Randy listened as the doctor spoke.

“He has siblings, so we will have no trouble locating a match, right?” Nora said hopefully. “We can have them tested right away.”

“We do want to be proactive and go ahead and have everyone tested,” the doctor nodded. “It is not a given that his siblings will be a match, but it is a positive starting point.”

“More than likely one of them will, right?” Randy asked.

“We hope so,” the doctor nodded.

That was all Nora needed to hear. The doctor had told them that Grant was in no way ready to receive a bone marrow transplant, and that it would not be an option until somewhere down the road, if ever. He did, however, stress the importance of preemptively finding a donor for when the time came, as, often, finding a match can take time. Nora had listened to the statistics though; she had hung on every word the doctor had told them, and she was confident that Grant’s siblings were the key to finding a match for him.

Phone calls were made; appointments were scheduled. Though Nora and Randy had been told that it was less likely they would be matches than their other children, they were tested anyway.

When Nora and Randy’s results came back negative as matches, Nora told herself that she had expected that. David and Joanna had been tested, and surely one of them would be the match they were hoping for. One of them just had to possess the miracle marrow that would save their baby brother.

David’s results came back first, and he was devastated to learn that he was not a match for Grant. As the results of Joanna’s test were relayed to Nora and Randy, Nora felt her heart sink. How was it possible that Grant’s brother nor his sister were matches? Had the hope she had heard in the doctor’s voice been manufactured in her own mind?

Randy had his phone to his ear, determined not to give up until a donor was found. “Rachel, your mother and I worried that because you are pregnant, you wouldn’t be considered an option, but, after speaking with the doctor, I feel like it is safe for you to go ahead and be tested. The doctor assures me that the procedure presents minimal risk to you or the baby. If you are a match, they would want to wait until after the baby is born to do the procedure, but Grant’s doctor says he most likely won’t be ready before then anyway.”

It wasn’t until the day that Rachel’s results came back negative that Nora broke down. She folded into Randy, exhausted from a search that had only just begun.

“Mrs. Cohen, I’m sorry I got your hopes up,” Dr. Lassiter said as Nora leaned against Randy for both physical and emotional support. “I was very encouraged when you informed me that Grant has three siblings,” the doctor went on. “I knew this was a possibility, but I very much believe in what I told you…we will find a match.”

“But what you are telling me is that outside of siblings…my son’s chances of finding a donor becomes somewhat of a crapshoot?” Randy snapped.

“I won’t lie to you, General Cohen,” Dr. Lassiter said straightforwardly. “Siblings were his best chance…but that, by no means, implies that finding a donor for your son becomes impossible. We have already put Grant’s name on the national registry. People across the world are being tested everyday. We’ll find him a match.”

Randy wasn’t satisfied. “Our older kids didn’t match Grant, but, if I understood you correctly, they would have been satisfactory matches for each other. So what are the chances that a sixth child would match Grant?”

“Is there a sixth child?” Dr. Lassiter seemed pleased. “The odds would be the same as we discussed in regard to the other kids.”

“So it’s highly possible that we could get lucky this time?” Randy nodded.

“Randy, what in Heaven’s name are you talkin’ about?” Nora sighed. “Are you hearin’ yourself?”

“I saw it on TLC, Nora,” Randy said seriously. “It was a show about how new scientific breakthroughs are helping women beyond their childbearing years to conceive. I know it sounds extreme…but this is our son’s life we are talking about. With as many technological advances as there are in medicine today, they could probably even guarantee us a child who is a match.”

Dr. Lassiter shook his head. “I know your son is very sick, and you are desperate to assure that he receives the best care you can give him, but I am not sure that this is the most healthy solution for anyone.”

“Then what do we do?” Randy snapped. “What do we do next?”

“We wait,” Dr. Lassiter nodded. “We give this some time and pray that a match is found. The more people who are tested to be donors, the better the chances become every day. So, for now, focus your attention on encouraging people…family, friends, neighbors…. to be tested.”

“We wait,” Randy sighed, his face red with frustration. “That is all I can do for my son?”

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Lassiter nodded.