65

MACEY LEANED BACK IN THE STIFF GREEN CHAIR AND GAZED, BLEARY-EYED, at the pile of magazines on the table in front of her—she’d looked through every one of them and then neatly lined them up in order of publication date, newest on top. “You should go home and let Keeper out,” she said, glancing at her phone. “It’s almost five.”

Ben stopped pacing. “I asked Gage to let him out and feed him.”

“Oh, okay. What time?”

“Soon, I hope.”

“Okay. I just hope the poor dog hasn’t given up on us. He’s never spent the night alone.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, but if you want me to run home, I will.”

“No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “You need to be here.”

“What time are your parents coming back?”

“I’m supposed to text my mom when we hear something . . .” Just as she said this, a doctor wearing scrubs walked into the waiting area, and Macey stood up and moved closer to Ben.

“Mr. and Mrs. Samuelson,” he said, smiling as he drew near. Macey and Ben both felt a wary relief when they saw the look on his face. “You are the foster parents of one spunky little lady.” His kind face looked tired as he continued, “When we were putting her under, she was telling us all about your dog, Keeper, and how he only has three legs, but because he has so much love in his heart he learned to get around . . . and she went right on talking about him until she fell asleep.”

Ben smiled. “I reminded her about Keeper having surgery right before she went in—I was hoping it would help her feel less worried . . . I said if he could do it, she could, too.”

“That was a good idea,” the doctor said with a tired smile.

“How did it go?” Macey asked anxiously.

“Very well—we had a good strong heart, and it started beating right away. Even so”—he paused—“I can’t impress on you enough how important her antirejection meds are. There are always risks—but in Harper’s case, I think she’s going to come through with flying colors. She’s a fighter and I think we found the perfect heart.”

“Can we see her?” Ben asked.

“Soon,” the doctor said, running his hand through his hair. “We’re wrapping things up, and she’s still going to be out of it for a while, but you’ll be able to see her after we’ve moved her back to her room in ICU. She’s going to look a little swollen, but that’s completely normal.”

Macey nodded. “Thank you so much.”

He smiled. “You’re welcome.”

“Do you know anything about the donor?” Ben ventured.

The doctor shook his head. “The mother wants to remain anonymous, at least for now. Down the road, she may want to meet the children her child saved, but she’s still grieving.”

“Did they donate other organs?”

He nodded. “All they could.”

Macey took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Wow,” she whispered.

The doctor nodded. “It can be a difficult decision, but usually families that decide to donate look back and say knowing their loved one’s organs—especially a heart—saved someone else’s life helps to ease their loss. We try to encourage people to consider organ donation when they renew their driver’s licenses. It makes it easier on families if an individual has already made that decision—then the family doesn’t have to guess what they would have wanted.”

Macey looked up at Ben. “We should do that.”

Ben nodded. “Definitely.”

“Okay,” the doctor said. “I’m going back. I just wanted to give you an update so you can grab some breakfast or a cup of coffee. A nurse will come find you as soon as we get Harper settled in her room.”

They both nodded. “We can’t thank you enough,” Ben said, shaking his hand.

“Yes,” Macey agreed, reaching out to take both of his hands. “Thank you.”

He smiled. “You’re very welcome.”

As he walked away, Ben turned to her. “Coffee?”

Macey nodded. “Just let me text my mom and Maeve.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket, but when she looked at the screen, she could barely make out the letters.

“Maybe you should wait till you can see,” Ben said gently, putting his arm around her.

“Okay,” she agreed, sobbing into his shoulder.