Chapter Sixteen

Kate

 

I was in the middle of finals week. My choir was still rehearsing because we were singing at commencement the first Saturday of May. I returned to my dorm room after class and the light on my answering machine was blinking.

Odd.

The only calls I got here were from family.

“Miss Carson, this is…”

People talk about out-of-body experiences. I couldn’t imagine one until I listened to the words of the woman in that message.

Emergency contact…

Can you come to the hospital right away?

The words sounded like they were far away.

Muffled.

Like listening through water.

I nodded at the right intervals until some part of me recognized I needed to make sounds.

Reply with words.

I wrote the info she gave me on the notepad my roommate and I always kept on the nightstand between our beds. Said thank you before hanging up, because of course.

Keys. Purse.

Found my RA and somehow explained.

Then drove home.

Home town.

The hospital.

Turning twenty this April didn’t prepare me for what came next.

The emergency department had called me, so I walked in and found the check-in desk. Gave them my family’s names. The nurse or whatever she was did a bunch of typing and told me to wait for a doctor to come talk to me. The place was noisy. It was the only ER for miles.

A woman approached me and made eye contact. “Miss Carson?”

“Yes.”

“Follow me.”

“Who are you? Where are my dad and my brother and sister?”

We turned a corner, then she led me into an open exam room.

“Miss Carson, your family was in a serious car accident and brought here. Your father’s information listed you as the next of kin.” She closed the door and gestured at the chair. I remained standing. “We needed you to get here as quickly as possible because there are decisions to make.”

Dread squeezed my insides. “What kind of decisions?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Carson, but your father and sister have passed. Your father is listed as an organ donor, but we still check that this was his last wish.”

“How?” My hands had gone cold and it was spreading. “How did they die? Where’s my brother?”

“Peter is in surgery. I don’t know the particulars of the accident, I’m sorry. You’ll have to speak with police. The EMTs said a car hit theirs, but—”

“I need to—can I see—” My stomach somersaulted. I aimed for the trash can.

When my lunch was done spewing out of me, the woman offered me a paper towel.

Then a paper cup of water.

“I don’t want to rush you, Miss Carson, but if you want to move forward with organ donation, you need to decide as soon as possible.”

“Yes.” I rinsed and spit the vomit from my mouth into the sink. “Dad would want his body and Kristi’s to do the most good. If he signed up to be a donor, he meant it.” I wiped my face. “Does Peter need—”

“I don’t know at this time. So, because your father had the donor card, we have kept them on life support until you could be reached. If you’d like to see them.”

I nodded. Did I like any of this? No. But I’d regret the lack of closure if I didn’t go.

What followed was another kind of an out-of-body experience. I gave the right responses, I think. Nodded at the correct times. Kissed my family goodbye. They would be assessed for worthiness as donors and doctors and databases would do their thing to find matches.

A bereavement counselor came to talk to me. I signed things.

Dad had run me through possibilities, of course, as his oldest, and only adult, child. I knew where his will and billing statements were kept and his wishes for my siblings. He wanted us to stay together no matter what age he was when death took him.

But why today?

The counselor eventually asked me if there was someone I could—or needed to—call.

Yes, I needed a phone.

I dialed the number for the closest person I had to a mother. “Mama?” It came out as a choked whisper. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Jane?”

“Kate? What’s wrong?”