––––––––
Austin, Texas
Adam Wright held tightly to his wife Lauren's hand.
Dr. Jason Noshanani, a pediatric oncologist, frowned. "I'm afraid the news is grave. Your son Adam's biopsy came back malignant. If he doesn't receive a liver transplant immediately, then there is no hope." His voice cracked.
Lauren asked her colleague, "Can we catapult to the top of the cadaver donor list, Jason?"
"I'll do what I can, but even if I do pull strings, there is no guarantee that we'll have a compatible specimen. I think the way to go would be a living donor."
Adam said, "A living donor? You mean someone gives up his liver and then dies, so that my boy can live? I'll do it."
Lauren said, "No, no, no sweetheart. He means that if a friend or relative donates a lobe of his or her liver, then that will be transplanted into our little boy. He doesn't need a full-sized adult liver, it wouldn't fit anyway. Then the donor's liver will regenerate and the donor will lead a normal life."
"Doesn't matter either way. I'll do it. Live or die. I'll give my life for our boy." Adam wiped his nose on his sleeve.
Lauren hesitated. "Um, maybe my sister will do it. If I wasn't pregnant, I would."
Adam raised his voice. "Your sister? Are you ridiculous? I'm the boy's father. There can't be a more perfect match. Doctor, schedule the surgery."
* * * *
Brooklyn, New York
Johnny arrived at Susan's house about eight on Tuesday night.
She let him in while holding the phone to her ear but away from her mouth. "Hi. Don't you want to go home and get some sleep? How early should we leave?"
"I wanna leave by three in the morning. So I figured I'd just crash here, that way I would get more sleep. I'll start out and then around dawn, do you think you could take over driving?" He couldn't help but notice she was wearing those low cut jeans again. It was all he could do not to yank them down and take her. Why did she have to tease, wiggling her big, perfectly shaped ass in front of him? Thank goodness she was not wearing stilettos. He couldn't take that scene. Oh, yeah, he could. He'd take her all right. Pull them down to her knees, bend her over...
"Your truck? Are you crazy?"
Crazy in love with you, sweetheart. "It's an automatic. Set up just like a car. You won't have a problem."
"Hold on." Susan turned around and dashed back to the kitchen, finishing her phone call.
Johnny plopped onto the couch, removed his boots, and set them by the fireplace. He thought a warm fire would be really nice, but no, that would be too much of a time consumer, they really needed sleep.
He walked over and plugged the tree lights in and then struck a match to the pine candles on the mantel. Johnny flipped the ceiling light off. A romantic glow cast over her living room. Music. They needed music, but he was sick of the Christmas carols. Why couldn't somebody in the millennium pen a whole new album of holiday cheer? The only songs he liked were "What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?" and "The Little Drummer Boy". He wanted to kiss his fiancée at midnight on New Year's Eve. That's what he'd be doing. And come, they told me...he'd make her come all right.
Sore from fighting a two-alarm warehouse fire, Johnny sank into her comfortable green chenille sofa. Glancing at the school house picture over the mantle, he spun into another daydream. Him chopping wood, wearing buckskin pants and no shirt. Susan was the school marm, blushing at the rippling of his deltoids. He'd turn and pick up a dozen split oak logs, toting them into her one room cabin. He would smile as he caught her staring at the button fly on his buckskin. He'd build the fire and lay out the pelt from the bear he'd killed, so they'd have a comfortable place to cozy up after dinner. Susan would serve corn pone, bear meat, and potatoes. Too close to the fire, a spark would ignite a small smolder on her blue skirt. No real fire, but just to be safe, Johnny would take control and strip her naked...
Susan joined him in the living room. "Everything is all set." She settled into the sofa, mindful that her leg didn't touch his. Johnny looked even manlier in candle light. The lean lines of his jeans stretched over long legs. And he was wearing that scent again. Damn him. She wondered why he had to do this to her. Wait, he didn't have any idea what's going on in her mind. If she chose to sit there and have a respectable platonic evening with her friend, she could...while fantasizing in her mind.
Susan's gaze landed on his right hand, splayed on his leg. Strong and huge. She wanted that hand underneath her sweater.
"Good," he said.
"Huh?" He couldn't know—
"You said everything was all set."
"Oh, right. Rainbeaux will help with the driving."
"What?"
"That was Rainbeaux on the phone. She got tickets. So she and Quiana can come with us. She thought it was a great idea, sleeping here. They're on their way."
Johnny groaned. This was his trip with his lady and he wasn't putting up with that bitch lieutenant.
"What's wrong, Johnny?"
"Four people and a dog in my truck?"
"I thought it was a club cab and seated five?"
"It is. Does." He mumbled, "I need to brush my teeth." Johnny headed for the powder room, with his toiletry kit.
* * * *
Johnny had the dog and females loaded by 4:10 a.m. They were getting a late start.
Bob barked and pawed all the way to the Jersey Turnpike. Then he collapsed in exhaustion on the center console between the front seats.
Quiana sat up front with Johnny, the two women rode in the back.
He simmered, wondering when the women would use up all of their words. They had been whispering and giggling the whole way.
Susan said, "So the whole reason for me and Johnny going to the Mister Wright concert is to find my cousin."
Quiana said, "Sweet! You are cousins with Mister Wright?"
Susan laughed, "No, I'm not related to him. Actually I'm not related to anybody that's still alive. Except my cousin, Melody."
Rainbeaux asked, "So she's goin' to the concert, too?"
"I hope so. She's a big fan of his. You see, on Independence Day, Melody went out for Chinese and vanished without a trace."
"Momma, make her stop. She's scarin' me."
Johnny said, "Let's play the alphabet game. My name is Allan, I'm from Arizona and I have a pet alligator."
Quiana said, "I'll be Beatrice, I'm from Bethlehem and I have a pet bunny."
* * * *
Austin, Texas
Dr. Jason Noshanani said, "Thank you for coming so quickly, Mister Wright."
"Are you ready to begin my pre-op preparations now?"
"Sit down."
Adam sat, his breath quickening. "No, don't tell me a little pot years ago screwed up my liver? No!"
"No, your liver is healthy." He cleared his throat. "But it is not a match for your son."
"Of course it's a match, he's my son."
"There is no easy way to say this, but he can't be your child."
Adam swallowed hard. "Are you absolutely sure?"
"Yes. Your son is blood type A negative. You are O positive. And so is your wife." With a trembling hand, Dr. Noshanani passed Adam the test results.
He scanned the documents, not able to understand much. He folded them and threw them in a trash can. "So you're telling me that I'm not his biological father?"
The doctor nodded.
Adam asked, "Now what the hell do we do?"
Dr. Noshanani stood and edged to the front of his desk. He nervously leaned up against it. "Do you have a publicist?"
Adam furled his brow. "Yes."
"Get him to make a plea to the public for donors. Perhaps somewhere out there is a fan that could randomly match your son."
"I'm on it." Adam bounded to the door. A solution. Little Adam would be fine. He had a mission. He'd take care of it. This was doable. He turned to the doctor. "Can you do something for me?"
Jason Noshanani nodded.
"A paternity test for my other children. What do you need from them, cheek swabs?"
"Yes, that is quick and painless. You can just bring them by and we'll work them in."
"Is it possible to use Lauren's amniocentesis fluid to test the baby's DNA? Did they save it?"
"Well...yes. And I'm not certain if it was saved. You'll have to check with her O.B. about that."
"I'll be in touch with Dr. Ravensworth then." Rachel Ravensworth was Lauren's best friend. Would she cooperate with him? Betraying her friend? Perhaps Rachel knew who Lauren had been sleeping with. "Dr. Noshanani, can you please run interference for me and check on the amniotic fluid, Rachel and Lauren—"
Dr. Noshanani interrupted. "I'll handle it."
Adam asked, "How much time does Adam Junior have...left?" his voice cracked.
"Get that plea out on the evening news if you can."
* * * *
Somewhere in New Jersey
During Johnny's thirty minute rest period while Lt. Van Dyke drove, Bob snored and kicked in his sleep, keeping Johnny's ribs sore. Johnny's weary eyes flew open as he felt his truck veering on and off the road. "Stop it! Are you crazy, curling your braids while you drive? Pull over!"
"Hush. I do it all the time. Why do ya think they invented curling irons that plug into the cigarette lighter? I'll stop if it makes you happy your majesty. Get some sleep, Newman."
It was a good thing she was a lieutenant and therefore did not drive any of the NYFD apparatus. That was the only good thing about her being a lieutenant in Johnny's opinion. Her firefighting skills and incident commands stunk. Fatigue took over and Johnny dozed off. He awoke with another jolt as the brakes screamed. The Lieutenant was backing up, because she had stopped way past the white line at a red light. She was rubbing moisturizer into her tawny face. It stunk.
"Pull over. I'm driving." Johnny ordered.
"Holt on. I'm all done with my beauty regimen. Sweetie, hand Momma her eyeglasses."
Johnny's jaw dropped as he watched Quiana pass her mother a pair of spectacles. He said, "You wear glasses to drive?"
"Yep."
"Oh, I've seen it all now." He realized he was out of his mind for letting her come on this trip. He felt like jumping out of the truck and walking to Texas by himself, but he couldn't do that to Susan. This was all about her. She needed to find her cousin. Until she did, dead or alive, Susan wouldn't be able to focus on herself. She had to build her self-esteem back up and embrace life. Take a big bite out of it. He could make her feel beautiful, if only she'd only let him.
Rainbeaux eased the truck into a diagonal space at a gas station convenience store. She and Quiana dashed inside.
Susan tugged on Johnny's shoulder as he jostled back into the driver's seat. She softly said, "I'm sorry. I had no idea she'd be like this."
Johnny's body couldn't deny the reaction to Susan's soft little hand. His nerves calmed instantly. He said, "Come on. Let's walk Bob over in the grass."
Susan hooked the retractable leash onto Bob's blue nylon collar. Johnny opened the truck door and coaxed the seventy pound pup out. "Come on, boy!" Johnny sprinted across the lot. Susan followed, being dragged behind, holding onto the leash. She yelled, "Stop running!"
Johnny did. He turned around and Bob slammed into him, knocking him onto his back on the frozen yellow grass. Susan landed on top of him. Bob licked their faces.
Susan said, "Please, never run when Bob's around. He will always chase. He thinks it's an invitation to play."
"I'm sorry, Susan. Are you hurt?"
"No. Fine. Sorry if I'm too heavy for you." Susan straddled Johnny's waist, her hands on the ground near his face, holding herself up. She felt a mix of comedy, embarrassment and moisture rushing to her sex. This just wasn't a proper position to be in. Was she imagining him pushing his privates against hers? Had to be. But for a moment, she enjoyed the situation. Oh, she needed a man again. A lover. Someone who would love her completely, for who she was, knowing all of her faults and still accepting her.
"Not at all." His cock woke up. Instinctively, he arched his back to strain for contact with her crotch. Johnny wondered if she knew how he'd longed to be in positions like this with her. As her silky black hair brushed his cheek, he thoroughly enjoyed the moment.
Unfortunately, she rolled off of him. Her jeans slipped down and he sighted the cleft of her ass. He blinked and she had stood and tugged her jeans up. But in that brief flash, he knew she was the woman custom made for him. And he'd take her. From every angle, with every appendage, in every orifice. For her own erotic delight. His pleasure was secondary. Making Susan feel beautiful and truly loved was his mission.
Susan untangled Bob's leash and offered her hand to give Johnny a boost up.
"Thanks." He held onto it longer than necessary, stroking the base of her palm with his thumb. With heavy lids, he looked into the blue pools of her soul.
Susan's nipples hardened against her bra. She imagined his thumb tracing over them. She pulled away and walked the dog.
Johnny paced over to a picnic table. She had trembled at his small touch. He grinned. His erection throbbed. He didn't want the lieutenant and kid to see it. That thought was enough to set the deflation in motion.
Bob did what needed to be done. Susan found Rainbeaux and Quiana strapped into the backseat of Johnny's truck when she returned. Bob leapt in, circled and lay down between them. Susan climbed in the drivers seat and closed the door.
Johnny opened it. "Just what do you think you're doing?"
"I thought I...I'd give it a go. It's my turn after all."
"Out. I'm fine to drive. Thanks but no."
Relieved, Susan scooted over the center console and took the shotgun seat. Johnny drove the truck to the gas pumps to refuel.
Susan jumped out and ran inside the convenience store to use the ladies' room. Of course there was a line. Always there was a line. At least they had music piped in, set on a local radio station.
Susan's turn came and she went. While washing her hands, she realized she'd heard the name Mister Wright on the news. She turned the water off and opened the door sticking her head into the store to listen better. She sighed heavily, wiped her hands on her jeans and rushed out to the truck.
Johnny had the truck parked at the curb.
She climbed in. "Turn around."
Johnny turned his head and looked at the girls and dog in the rear. "So, what is it I'm looking at?"
"No, I mean we're going back to New York."
"What?"
"I just heard on the news. The concert is cancelled."
Johnny said, "Don't play with me like that."
"Mister Wright's son is gravely ill, in need of a liver transplant."
* * * *
Home Again in New York
The next morning, Johnny said, "Hand me the drill please, Susan."
She picked up the orange corded tool and meandered over to the last section of studs. "Right here? You want the hole here?" She turned the drill sideways and placed the bit against the pine.
Johnny said, "I'll do it," as he smiled and tried to extract the drill from her hands. She had soft hands. Tiny little hands. Beautifully manicured.
She said, "Let me do it. I want to learn how. It's my basement, after all."
"Okay, measure up twenty-four inches from the floor."
She set the drill down and paced around the basement. "Where is the tape measure?"
He grinned. "Oh, I don't know."
Susan strolled over to him and unclipped the metal box from his back pocket. She'd never noticed how his jeans fit before. Levi's. Thirty-two by thirty-four. Johnny had nicely contoured long lean legs leading up to—
She blushed and began reeling out the yellow metallic tape.
"That's enough," he said.
"Huh?"
"You've got about eight feet pulled out. Ya only need two." He swiped it from her and retracted the metal. Leaning down, he made a pencil mark on the stud at two feet. "Drill in the center."
Susan bent over and positioned the bit on his mark. Her hair cascaded down, tangling in the tool.
Johnny brushed it back. Silkier than he'd imagined. He had to have her soon.
Susan quivered at his gentle touch.
* * * *
It was all over the news. Mister Wright was finally receiving attention from the American media who had shunned him for years. Susan scanned the daily newspaper and the online news sites. She had the radio on all the time. Some of the late evening talk shows made jokes. The delicious question du jour was why didn't Mister Wright donate his own liver? Speculation soared from substance abuse and HIV status to cracks that he wasn't the boy's real father and he needed to come out of the closet. The child's mother, the lovely Dr. Wright, couldn't donate hers because she was yet again pregnant.
* * * *
Johnny yanked and guided the white conduit through the holes in the studs. "Can you get that kink out for me?"
Susan perched on a yet to be opened bucket of joint compound.
"Hey, Susan, can ya help me out?"
"I'm going." She headed for the dusty pine stairs.
"Goin' where?
"To Austin to be tested."
Johnny hissed. "You don't even know the guy. Do you realize what the implications, complications, of having your liver chopped up are?"
Tears ran down her face. "A little seven-year-old boy will die. I have to at least try. His father meant so much, means so much to Melody, so in a way, he's family. I have got to do it."
"But what about your job? You can't just up and leave." No. Absolutely not. She wasn't going to be cut into. No. She was his. He wasn't losing her on the operating table. No way. He wouldn't permit her.
"Johnny, my house and car are paid for. I receive Brandon's full salary as a widow's pension. I don't have to work."
"But you love your work."
"Slow down. Who says I'll even be a match? Right now, all I need is a couple of days to go down and get the preliminaries out of the way."
He yanked the chain to shut off the bare light bulb. In the darkness he stumbled over to Susan. He wiped her tears with his callused fingers. "I'll call in for emergency annual leave. But this time, no extra passengers. Just you and me and Bob..."
"How 'bout just you and me and an airplane?"
"What about Bob?"
"I'll ask Hank and Gavin. They're good with him. They can look after the house, too."
Susan pressed her palms hard against Johnny's chest as she tiptoed to kiss his stubbled cheek.
It was over too soon. He asked, "Can you book the flight? Try to get more than one connection. I'll call the firehouse and then go home and pack. I'll be back here within two hours, traffic permitting. So don't book for anything earlier than a five o'clock departure. I know we'll have to arrive more than an hour early to get through security and you never can predict how long the lines will be."
Susan trembled.
He rubbed her arms. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"
"Absolutely."
* * * *
Austin, Texas
At a quarter past midnight, the cab dropped them at the hotel nearest Bush General Hospital. As Johnny paid the driver, Susan hurried through the automatic glass doors to the registration desk.
He caught up with her just as the clerk handed her two key cards and motioned to the elevator. The clerk said, "Take the elevator up to the eighth floor. You're in 814."
Johnny said, "I'd like to register as well."
"No, I have a room with two queen beds. I don't wanna be alone. If you don't mind..." Her voice was cracking.
Johnny said, "Sure." and carried their bags to the elevator.
* * * *
They didn't speak until he flipped the light on and closed the door on Room 814. Johnny said, "This is nice."
Susan wandered over to the open drapes and looked at the light speckled cityscape. "Yes. Yes it is...well, I'll go and change." Susan carried her overnight bag into the bathroom and shut the door.
Johnny yanked his boots off and set them near the wall by the dresser. He emptied his pockets into a drawer. Then he tugged the pillows from underneath a floral comforter and propped them against the cherry headboard. He stretched out and watched TV.
Susan emerged from the bathroom wearing a long pink flannel nightgown, accentuating her front and rear curves. Johnny said, "That looks, um, comfortable." He was stunned at her beauty.
"Yeah. I always sleep well in my lucky nightgown."
Johnny and his duffel bag took their turn in the bathroom. He returned dressed in thin navy blue gym pants and a white crew neck shirt. He was very aware his form was accentuated as well, in the cotton pants. He wondered if she noticed his semi-hard on.
Susan had turned the TV off and was standing in the lights of the city night. He walked over to her. "Look, you don't have to go through with it. I'll do it."
"You'll do what?" She turned to Johnny.
"I'll be tested. I'll donate. I don't want you—"
"You are willing to give half your liver to Adam, Junior?"
He nodded. "Yeah. So you don't need to bother being tested. I'm gonna to do it." This would settle things.
Susan smiled. Johnny was such a wonderful human being. So sweet and empathetic. "Of course I'm going to be tested. If I'm a good match I'm doing it."
"I told you, I'll do it," he insisted.
"We'll see who is more compatible. If I'm the best, then it's me. If you are, so be it."
An ambulance whizzed by on the street below. The red lights zigzagged through the rain pelting the window.
Johnny said, "Let's get some sleep. Which bed do you want?"
"I like the one by the window."
"All right. I'll take the other."
They both climbed under their respective covers.
"Good night, Susan."
"Night."
He lay staring at the ceiling, praying he'd be the best match. He wouldn't let Susan go through the trauma of the surgery.
"Johnny?"
"Huh?"
"Can you come over here?"
He flung off his covers and vaulted out of bed. "What's wrong?"
"Can you sleep with me tonight?"
"What did you say?" He held his breath.
"Will you lay with me and hold me? I just really, really need you to hold me." Tears trickled down her face. She was scared of the surgery.
He threw her covers back and climbed in behind her. Johnny wrapped one arm around her soft flannel waist. He slid the other under her pillow. He pulled Susan closer. And instantly felt the flame. He yanked the pillow from under his head and stuffed it between their two bodies. She held his hand tight.
Susan felt a sense of rightness. She was sure she was doing the right thing, donating her liver so a little boy could live. She whispered, "Johnny?"
"Yeah," he said in a heavy breath. She smelled so good. Her hair reminded him of corn silks, but midnight black. So smooth. He'd always wanted to have a girl with black-black hair. He wondered if it was her natural color. Johnny felt a tightness in his groin picturing her creamy white thighs with a shock of black curly softness, protecting her secret universe.
"You know what?" she asked.
"I can hardly hear you."
"Sorry." She rolled over and slid her hands under her head.
Johnny looked at his goddess in the darkened light. The curtains were still open. Dusky amber beams lit her innocent face. He dared brush the raven strands off of her cheek.
Susan grabbed his hand and gently held it.
Johnny tried to inhale the moment.
Susan said, "This feels right."
For six long years, Johnny had waited for this night. It was more than he'd dreamed and boy had he dreamed.
Susan said, "You know, Brandon was an organ donor. But all—" She sniffled. "All they found was his hand."
"I know. I'm sorry, sweetheart." This wasn't something he wanted to chat about. Johnny worried. This moment could go either way. And it seemed not to be favored in his direction.
Susan propped up on one arm. Johnny flattened out on his back, with his head turned toward her. Water clunked in the pipes, the next door guest must have been showering.
"Do you understand what I'm trying to say? I mean Brandon has led us here. Literally to Texas, to help this little boy. I just know that we will."
Johnny rolled over onto his side, the pillow still between them. He propped up on his elbow. He wished she could let go and realize Brandon wasn't coming back. He was her new man, if only she'd let him inside her heart. "Don't you understand why I can't let you do it?"
Susan sat up. She adjusted the pink flounce on her long sleeve. "No. This is my decision."
"I can't lose you."
Susan looked at his face. She saw pain. And a tear. Two tears. "Johnny, I don't understand. Why are you crying?"
"Because I've waited years for you. I fell in love with you the moment we met."