Chapter 118

Between the kids and Julia, I’m dogpiled in hugs. Everyone is brimming with a thousand questions for me - especially Julia.

"What the fuck, Ardal," she hisses, the moment the kids' backs are turned. “Kadeem knows?”

My cheeks get hot and I break into a lopsided smile. "I’ll tell you everything, I promise."

She arches her eyebrow suspiciously - which, is fair - given that I haven’t been the most forthcoming lately.

Soon, she’s on to me about the Spartan food pantry.

“If you needed help with things - especially food - you should have told me!”

“I don’t need help.” I snag a box of mac and cheese Hannah undoubtedly bought while I was gone. “Look - food!”

She glares at me before ordering sushi for the two of us and chicken fried noodles and pork dumplings for the kids.

While we wait for the food to arrive, I indulge in a much-needed shower and feel some measure of relief at finally washing off the hospital grunge.

As I inhale the steam, a pang lodges itself in my heart. shouldn’t I be happier than this? Erbao alive and already getting back to his usual spunk, Julia is here, and Kadeem and I are Kadeem and I - for the first time in years.

So why does something still feel wrong?

We dive into our Japanese and eat on the couch together. I maneuver my arms around Lottie, trying to get a fork full of noodles I stole off her plate into my mouth without spilling them everywhere.

She’s glued to my lap while Ezra and Milo are pressed into either side of me. Meanwhile, Silas and Julia are cozied up. She beams at him as he excitedly explains what he’s been learning about outer space.

Once we finish eating lunch, I head to my bed, collapsing in exhaustion. It turns out to be a super-nap marathon.

On vampire time, I wake up around 10 PM in the pitch dark of night. I’m groggy and glance around the room, trying to orient myself, but as I place myself, memories flash before me of the night Erbao went to the hospital - the way he looked standing in my doorway, the way he seemed to fall in slow motion, the lifelessness of him as he lay on the floor.

Grief hits me with a wrenching, tearing pain and I struggle not to cry.

I choke it all back, desperate not to feel it, and manage to stumble up and make my way to the living room.

Julia is stretched out on the couch, peacefully engrossed in a book. The kids seem to be tucked away in their bedrooms, asleep, and the house is quiet except for the gentle sound of laundry tumbling in the dryer.

On top of the weight of Erbao, that gnawing ache I’ve been feeling since I woke up in the woods hits me hard - the combination nearly doubling me over. I open my mouth to say something to Julia, but nothing comes out.

Sensing my presence, she peers up at me from her paperback. “Ready to crack open the sparkling sake?”

We follow Kadeem’s suggestion, getting mercifully buzzed out on the front porch while I explain everything that has happened. Julia listens with her mouth gaped open.

"Holy shit," she says finally, "That’s a lot. You've been through the wringer!"

I exhale deeply and nod. “The worst was Erbao - scariest, hardest night of my life, Julia.”

Julia’s eyes soften with empathy and her lips tighten. “I have to ask - have you spoken to Kadeem about being a living donor?”

"We haven't discussed it yet," I say.

But I don’t have to. It’s as plain as day to me that he would cut out one of his kidneys, himself, if he thought it would help.

“It’s just, aside from all the testing Kadeem would have to do,” I continue, “I guess Erbao needs to be stable and healthy before his doctors will even consider performing a transplant.”

Julia frowns. "I hope the criteria isn't too high. How can someone with a chronic illness ever be completely well, or without any additional risk for such a major surgery?”

I take a sip of my sparkling sake, feeling the tang of bubbles against my tongue. Her words remind me of how serious a transplant surgery will be - and she’s right, because of Erbao’s health issues, there will always be inherent risks he’ll face with the procedure.

I take a gulp of my drink, trying to wash away the worries in my brain and replace them with the sake fizz.

"There's something else, too," I say slowly. "Someone I haven't told anyone yet."

Julia angles her bottle against the arm of her chair and crosses her legs. "What is it?"

I shake my head in frustration. "I don't know how to explain it, but since that night in the woods - everything feels different now. At first, I thought it was because of the trauma of it all and Kadeem leaving afterwards.”

I thump my fingers against the base of my bottle watch as a car passes down the street.

“But he and I are really good, and the kids bounced back from what happened,” I continue. “We’re not short on trauma, I get that, but I still am left with this feeling I can’t name. I just… I’m not okay - and I don’t even know what’s wrong.”

I look down at my lap, feeling my face crumple.

"Ardal," Julia says, "You were almost killed and then you watched your son have a heart attack in front of you! You’re allowed to not be alright!”

I squeeze my eyes closed and take a deep breath before opening them again. I down the rest of my sake.

My jaw tightens and I leap to my feet, steadying myself against the porch rail as the woozy, lightheadedness hits.

Desperately, I want to escape - though where to, I don’t know. But I force myself to remain still as I feel Julia’s arm around me and her head against my shoulder.

“I’m so grateful both you and Erbao are alright,” she whispers.

Sedated by sake, the two of us fall into my bed together for the night. It’s not long before I succumb to sleep, lulled into unconsciousness by Julia’s soft snores.

I trade Kadeem out at the hospital the next day. I hunker near Erbao’s bed while he makes a futile attempt to demonstrate how to play Minecraft on his tablet.

Eventually unable to take anymore, I surrender the device.

“Kid,” I smile, “Thank the Goddess you’re alive, but I can’t stare at these pixelated blockheads anymore.”

I let out a small sigh while Erbao giggles at my characterization of his game.

“You stay tech-savvy,” I say. “I’m just going to remain a neophyte.”

“What’s a neophyte?”

“French for awesome, but rotten at video games,” I joke.

That night, Erbao dozes off just as my phone flashes. Kadeem.

As quietly as I can, I slip out of Erbao’s room, swiping to answer the phone on my way out to the lobby. The call drops immediately. Earlier, I was hitting a spotty signal here and there, but now the whole floor seems to be a dead zone.

Best nationwide coverage, my ass.

I groan and head outside to a courtyard downstairs where visitors and some staff are meandering about, their voices in conversation filling the air. I let the warmth outside soak through me, the goosebumps finally fading from my arms after being inside the chilly building for so long.

I walk along a lit path, taking in the delicate aroma of roses from a flowerbed as I tap on my phone to call Kadeem back.

“You rang,” I deadpan.

“I did,” comes his voice.

I shut my eyes for a moment just to focus on the sound of him, wanting him.

“I’m listening,” I say.

“How’s Erbao?”

I open my eyes. “Still the toughest kid I’ve ever known,” I answer. “It looks like he may be released tomorrow.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Kadeem says. “I meant to be back earlier, but it’s been a long day and I just got done with a fairly painful pack meeting. He sighs heavily.

“Erbao’s asleep now,” I say. “Just go home. You’ve been running on fumes for days.”

“I’ll be alright,” he says. “But what about you? Could you use the company?”

“Nope,” I reply, nodding to an ICU nurse I recognize as she passes. “Frankly, I’m looking forward to not hearing you rustling about all night.”

“You try sleeping in that godawful recliner,” Kadeem shoots back. “I slept on the couch last night since you weren’t there to hog it. It was like a fluffy cloud!”

I laugh. “I did offer to switch places with you - a few thousand times.”

“Well, I’m stubborn,” he says, the same as someone might say, ‘My hair is brown.’

There’s a weariness to his voice as he continues. “Although I suppose I should take your advice and go home,” he says. “Only, I do have to ask you a question before you go off to enjoy your comfy couch.”

I finally sink down on the bench I’ve been hovering around for the past few minutes. “Ask away.” I lean back against the bench and look up at the starless sky - all the celestial twinkling hidden beneath the glare of downtown city lights.

There’s a slight pause. “Look,” he says, after a moment, “I’ll hear it in your voice if you lie to me, so don’t. It’s important that you just tell me the truth - no matter what it is.”

I fold one leg underneath me, and bring the other up, so that I’m hugging my knee against my chest. “What are you asking me?”

“Have you seen Jack Rayburn since May? Have you talked to him at all? Text, phone, anything?”

“No to all of that,” I say, but my heart is beating rapidly in my chest as guilt consumes me.