“This must be the worst food I’ve ever tasted,” I complain, pushing the tasteless cabbage and cauliflower around on my plate. Even the salmon, which I usually enjoy, has little flavor.
Dr. Okafor said a renal diet avoids foods with too much sodium, phosphorus, and potassium. Blueberries, apples, pineapple, cranberries—all my new best friends.
“Eat,” Canon says, from the small table he’s set up in the corner, not lifting his gaze from his computer.
“If they gave me food instead of cardboard, I would.”
He shoots a wry look over the edge of his laptop. “It’s not that bad.”
“Oh.” I lift a forkful of the bland morsels. “Then come see for yourself.”
He rolls his eyes, but walks over to the bed and leans forward, mouth open. I shove the fork inside and watch his face closely. He grimaces before catching himself and humming approvingly. “Delicious.”
“Liar.”
He grins and bends down to kiss my lips lightly. I reach up and grip his neck, holding him, kissing him deeper. I’m in no shape for anything more, but just the closeness, the intimacy of his tongue exploring my mouth, gives me something to look forward to.
“I love you,” he whispers into our kiss.
“I love you back. You’ve been so good to me, Canon.”
“You can thank me later.” He catches my eyes, wicked humor lurking beneath the surface of his smile. “I think a week’s worth of blow jobs should suffice.”
“I’m easy to please.”
“The whole world, especially your cast and crew, would disagree.”
“Shiiiit. If they know what’s good—”
Someone clears their throat at the door, and Canon and I both turn to see who’s there.
“Mama?” My voice emerges strangled and disbelieving and hopeful.
She looks exhausted and slightly disheveled, her dress wrinkled and her eyes weary, but she’s here. Tears immediately leak over my cheeks, and Mama comes over, reaching down to me in the bed to hug me. I grip her neck and run my hands over her shoulders, not sure she’s real. With our faces pressed together, the tears mingle on our cheeks, and I can’t even find the words to ask how she’s here.
“Mama . . .” I touch her face and laugh. “You don’t fly.”
“I finally did,” she says, smiling over at Canon. “Thanks to Mr. Holt here.”
Fresh tears clog my throat at his thoughtfulness. So many times I’ve needed her and she wasn’t there, and this time she is. Canon made sure of that.
“Thank you,” I say tearfully, taking and squeezing his hand.
He drops a kiss at my temple.
“Mama, you actually got on a plane for me. I can’t believe it.”
“Well, Canon got me a private jet, so how could I refuse?”
“Galaxy’s,” Canon answers my querying look. “They flew her in. I thought it might be a little easier.”
“I’m spoiled now.” Mama laughs, but it fades, and she looks over her shoulder at the door. “There’s something you should know. I didn’t come alone. I—”
“I’m here,” Terry says from the door.
All the joy that surged inside me stalls at the sight of my sister. She’s dressed simply in jeans and a T-shirt, her natural hair surrounding her face in thick coils. I should speak, but I can’t find the words.
“Needed the bathroom after that long ride,” she mutters, her expression growing stiffer and more uncertain the longer we stare at one another.
“Your . . . your sister,” Mama says haltingly. “She flew with me. I don’t think I could have come if she hadn’t.”
I lower my eyes to the starkness of the white hospital bedding, not sure how to process all this good and all this awkward at once.
“So you just weren’t gonna tell me you needed a kidney?” Terry asks.
My gaze snaps to her and then to Mama and Canon.
“You hadn’t asked her,” Mama says, shrugging defensively. “And I needed to get here. I had to tell her something.”
“You should have told me.” Terry walks farther into the room, stopping at the end of my hospital bed. “I’m your best shot.”
“Oh, you just love saying that, don’t you?” I bark out a raw laugh that scratches my throat. “And you wonder why I hadn’t told you.”
“Yeah, I wonder why,” she fires back. “Letting your pride endanger your life.”
“You haven’t been a part of my life in a long time, Terry. Why start now?”
“Because you might not have a life if you don’t get a kidney.”
“You’re misinformed.”
“And you’re stubborn, but then, I knew that based on the way you’ve behaved this long.”
“The way I behaved? You fuck my fiancé, have his baby, drive a wedge between me and my entire family—”
“I didn’t put that wedge there, sis. You did that with your siditty ways.”
“Siditty? Me? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Going off to New York.”
“To get away from you and Brandon.”
“And never coming home.”
“To avoid you and Brandon. Look, you made your choices and I made mine. You got some nerve—”
“I’m gonna shut this shit down right now,” Canon interrupts, his expression thunderous. “Terry, if you aren’t here to help, you can jump on the next plane leaving LAX. I don’t give a damn about you or your husband or this feud. Stress was a trigger for this flare-up, and if you’re gonna make things worse, go. If you want to help, get tested to see if we can use your kidney. Those are your options.”
“Who is this?” Terry sneers, hands on hips.
“This is Canon Holt,” Mama says hastily. “He arranged for us to fly here. He’s Neevah’s director and—”
“And I said what I said,” Canon inserts, narrowing his eyes. “You will not stress Neevah out any more than she already is. Believe me, her doctor will kick you out before I get the chance if she walks in and finds you yelling at the woman who literally is about to begin dialysis waiting for a kidney.”
“Dialysis?” Terry asks faintly, glancing at me and frowning.
“This isn’t a game,” Canon continues. “That’s what I’m telling you. We don’t have time to argue. You guys can dive into some serious family therapy later, but right now, I need you to start the testing process, if you’re willing.”
“Of course I’m willing,” Terry says, swallowing. “She’s my sister.”
“Even though I’m siditty, uppity, stubborn?” I ask, a sob clogging my throat.
“Exactly all that.” Some of the fire reignites in Terry’s stare. “But you’re still my little sister. When shit hits the fan, family should be there for each other. I know we have a lot to work out, but let me at least try to help.”
“That sounds like a great idea,” Dr. Okafor says from the open hospital door. “You’re Neevah’s sister, I assume? I see the resemblance.”
Is there? I study Terry’s beautiful face. She was always the pretty one when we were growing up, so I didn’t try to compare us. I knew she’d win the face race, but it didn’t really matter. I loved my sister with an affection so deep it bordered on hero worship. When she betrayed that, the only way I could deal with it and the consequences was to cut her off completely. With our strident words still echoing in my ears, it’s apparent there’s just as much hurt and resentment in this room as there was in our living room over a decade ago.
“I’m glad to hear you want to help,” Dr. Okafor continues. “Can I ask how long you’re here?”
“I have three days before I have to get back to work,” Terry says. “And my daughter needs me. Her daddy . . .” Her wide eyes meet mine at the mention of Brandon.
“We can talk about testing. We can’t get it all done in three days,” Dr. Okafor says. “We can coordinate with labs and doctors in your home state, too, which is?”
“North Carolina,” Terry says.
“Good then,” Dr. Okafor says, a smile lighting her dark eyes. “Well, let’s get started.”
