Jack pulled into Mike’s driveway at a few minutes after seven. When Tess had discovered the two-story Spanish-style house, she knew it was a treasure. As soon as they purchased it, she began a major renovation. Her efforts became a labor of love, and one year later she finished the home she’d been building in her mind since she was a freshman in college.
Walking up to the house, Jack took a second look at the lighted crystal sleigh with Santa sitting in it. It was the same one Tess had been displaying since the first Christmas she and Mike had spent in the house. Mike opened the door and escorted them through the foyer and into his library. The room was paneled in mahogany wood, with the far wall a floor-to-ceiling bookcase with a rolling library ladder on brass rails. A series of marble tables displayed Mike’s collection of military-styled chess sets from numerous historical eras. Tess’s hand in things was clearly present in the elaborate Christmas decorations that filled the room. The tree was in the far corner, adorned with shimmering ornaments and an arrow-shaped sign pointing to Santa’s workshop.
“Would anybody like something to drink?” Mike asked, pointing to the couch. They both declined with a wave of the hand. Once they were all seated, he said, “I spent all afternoon with Tess. I never saw her move once and her face is lifeless.”
“She’s not improving,” Jack said, “but I’d say she’s holding her own.”
“Dr. Sinclair disagrees,” Mike said flatly.
“That doesn’t mean he’s right,” Madison said.
“He called me earlier. He told me the hospital’s close to authorizing his Vitracide program. He wants me to consent to treatment as soon as possible.” He set his glass of red wine down on a coffee table. “Would you agree with him that the young girl who was operated on is not going to recover?”
“I’d say the possibility’s remote,” Jack answered.
“If you decide to go ahead with treatment, what’s your plan regarding the baby?” Madison asked in a cautionary tone. “Did Dr. Sinclair make a recommendation?”
“He said the decision was mine. Right now, I’m leaning toward a C-section.”
“Tess is only in her twenty-eighth week. The baby will be extremely premature.”
“I guess being very premature is better…better than the alternative.”
Mike stood up and walked over to one of his Civil War chessboards and mindlessly moved a few of the pieces around. “A few days ago, you said if the girl didn’t get better after the operation and Tess didn’t improve, you would agree to go with Sinclair’s recommendations. But I’m getting the feeling you still think I should wait.”
“I do.”
“If I wait and do nothing, what are my guarantees we won’t lose them both? The thought of losing the baby is painful enough, but the thought of Tess dying is beyond anything I can possibly imagine. I just don’t know what losing…” His voice was choked and his eyes became glazed by a veil of tears. With his hands folded in his lap, he added, “Most men are brothers by circumstance. I was fortunate enough to choose you. There’s no man I admire more than you, Jack, but you’re going to have to explain to me why you’re right and Sinclair’s wrong.”
“I can’t do that. And I don’t have any guarantees that I’m right. The only thing I can tell you is that my gut’s telling me Vitracide is not the answer.” After a weighted sigh, he added, “This is not a decision you have to make right now. We still have a couple of days. If another option becomes available…well, we can talk about it then and you can decide if you want to reevaluate your decision.”
“Okay,” he said in a monotone, staring down at the floor. “Okay.”
Mike spent the next few minutes talking to Madison about the baby’s condition. Jack only listened, but he studied his closest friend carefully. Mike’s voice and manner were like a beleaguered marathoner too cramped and spent to take another stride. From the beginning Jack had considered the consequences for Mike if he lost Tess but the true impact hadn’t crystalized for him until now. The price his friend would pay in untold suffering from losing the love of his life was, at least for the moment, more than Jack could fathom.