Page 31 of Samuel's Heart

“We don’t really believe in miracles,” Samuel says, and I hear the hurt behind his words.

“Are you challenging me, boy?” Ian asks, but there is no malice behind his words, only the confidence that whatever he has to share will, in fact, be a miracle. It’s beautiful to see.

“Yes, I am, old man,” Samuel jokes with him.

“I won’t bet because this is too important, but I’m sure you’ll agree with me by the time I’m done.”

“Hello,” someone next to me says, making me jump out of my skin. I was hanging off Ian’s words and the world faded just for a second.

“Hey, Stacey. Rory and Samuel,” he says, pointing at us, “are in town for a bit, so make sure whatever they order is the best thing we can make.”

“Of course, old man. That’s what we usually do,” she says to him, winking at us.

“Stop with the ‘old man,’ and take the order, old hag.” But then to our surprise he sends a kiss her way, and she pats his cheek.

“This is Stacey, my wife. I’ve been lucky in that department as well. She’s the love of my life.”

I envy the look of love they share, because that’s what I’ve been looking for all my life—someone to love me like I am, with all my scars and weaknesses. Willing to accept that I’m not perfect. I had that someone in John, even if he couldn’t understand some parts of me. But who in the world can say that their partner understands everything about them? Now, thinking about it, I’m left with nothing—just like before I met John. It’s worse, actually, because now I know what I’m missing.

“Rory?” My name on Samuel’s lips has my heart beating a bit faster, but I ignore the effect he has on me and concentrate on the other people at the table.

“What can I get you, darling?” Stacey asks me.

“Can I have an English breakfast?”

“Of course you can, darling,” she says while writing my order down.

“Can I have one as well? No beans, please. They look like worms on my plate, and I hate them.”

I look at Samuel, sure my eyes are bulging out of their sockets, because what he just said is the same thing John used to say.

What’s happening today? John, are you sending me signs?

“Old man, I’ll bring you the usual.”

“Thank you, darling.”

“So, where were we?” Ian asks, but it’s a rhetorical question because he jumps right back into the story he wants to share with us.

Silently, I wait to know more and hopefully get a few glimpses of John.

“I was twenty when my kidney problem started. I didn’t think much of it. You know how kids are. Always so sure that nothing can stop them. That was me.”

I watch Samuel nod, but I can’t do the same because my life was less than perfect, and I never took anything for granted—not even my life.

Ian seems happy with whatever reply he gets and then continues.

“When things got worse, and my kidneys stopped working, I had to start dialysis. There was no drinking until my thirst was satisfied because I had to control the intake of liquid. I had to spend hours in the dialysis ward every couple of days so they could drain the liquid from my body. My mind and my body were deteriorating, and even simple flus were putting me in the hospital. Do you know how much it takes from you?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, and to be honest, I wouldn’t have one.

“I’m sorry,” I say, because I don’t understand how he felt. I’ve never known anyone with those kinds of health problems, so all this is a mystery to me.

“Thank you. I felt sorry for myself for a long time. And for a long time, I made my life, and the lives of those around me, very hard.” He shakes his head as if ashamed of himself.

Samuel and I exchange a look, but we don’t say a word.

“Then one day, I received a call in the middle of the night. Usually calls that arrive at those hours bring bad news, but for me it was the best call I ever had. A kidney was available for me.” He shakes his head again and then continues. “You must think I’m a monster, because I was happy when someone else died.”

“I . . .” I try to speak, but words don’t come, because it’s true he was . . . but he wasn’t.

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