Page 18 of Forgotten Desires

Dr. Carr writes something down. “There are a lot of charities that can help with your costs, Brynn. Normally, insurance will cover a living donor, but since you’re both uninsured, it poses a new set of challenges. Still, I’m sure there’s somewhere we can get some help.”

I nod, praying she’s right. I can’t take out a loan, or I would. Right now, my company isn’t even functioning, so I have no income. I would’ve told Thea that I couldn’t start the company if I knew we were going to move on this now and that my part of the operation wasn’t going to be covered by the hospital.

All of this is the worst timing possible.

“I don’t want my daughter saddled with debt,” Howie says, frustration seeping into his voice. “Not because she’s trying to save me, someone who doesn’t even deserve it.”

“Dad, stop. You deserve to be saved, just as much as anyone else,” I reassure him.

He struggles with his grief over what he put us all through. When he first tried to get sober, he came to me as part of his step program. I cried as my father professed his sorrow for the things he did, the abuse and fits of rage. For the fact that he abandoned me and my mother or that he ever drove us away. When I lost Mom, I thought for sure he would return and try to be a father in some way, but he didn’t. I struggled with that for a long time, but I chose to forgive him because hate in my heart only weighs me down.

“Just promise me you’re not going to borrow money or do anything that will affect your future.”

I sigh, knowing there’s no real way out of this fight. “I promise.”

Which is a lie because I’ll do whatever I have to. I can’t let my father die. Not when I know that I can save him. I have to save him.

“All right. I’ll have the billing team reach out to you and we’ll get things moving. Just remember no changes in medications without talking to me first, no alcohol for either of you, and keep going with your rehabilitation, Howie. Reach out if you have any questions or concerns.”

We both stand and shake her hand. My father and I make our way to the waiting area and he grabs my arm. “I mean it, Brynn. I’m not worth you putting yourself in trouble just for this. I did this to myself, do you hear?”

“I’m not going to let you die, Dad.”

“You aren’t going to ruin your life, either. I’ve done enough of that already and I can’t handle being a cause for more of it.”

I let out a breath through my nose, trying to find the right words. “Do you know what I remember most from my childhood?”

“I’m afraid to even ask.”

“I remember when you built my dollhouse. You spent months on it, carving every detail, making sure the rooms were big enough to get my hands in there, making all the furniture. There was nothing in the world I owned that meant more to me than that dollhouse. I played with it every day for hours.”

My father’s eyes fill with tears. “And then I broke it.”

“But that’s not the memory I hold onto.”

Before the night when my father hit my mother, he was angry about something, and he went after the dollhouse. He lifted it, throwing it to the ground as Rowan stood in front of me, shielding me from seeing it. I cried and cried until I finally fell asleep. It was a horrible night, and we didn’t spend many more with him.

“I have ruined everything in your life, Brynlee. The fact that you even speak to me at this point is a miracle. You have to understand why I don’t want you to do this. Not for me.”

“I do understand, but I’m asking you to understand my side. You’re my father. You’re alive and I can help keep you that way. We lost a lot of time, Dad. For years I didn’t have you there and now . . .” I inhale, my heart pounding as emotions flood me. “Now I don’t want any more of those absent years. I’m asking you to understand that. I want my dad. I need you to be alive so we can continue to try to reconcile.”

My dad pulls me into his arms, and I hold on to him. I keep the tears from falling, trying to focus on the fact that we’re in a better place now and I can help.

After a minute, he pulls back and smiles at me. “I have an AA meeting I need to get to. You’ll be okay getting to the train station?”

“Yes, Dad. I’ll be totally fine.”

Usually, when I’m in Manhattan, I meet up with Thea, but she’s meeting with two potential clients in Connecticut. I had a client dinner as well, but they canceled on me yesterday, so I’ll just take the train back into Jersey and drive back to Sugarloaf and maybe, finally, get the courage to tell my brothers about the transplant.

It’s just so hard because I know they’re going to flip out. Those three men are overprotective and they loathe my father. Not that I blame them. I was in their camp for a long time. While I may have forgiven Howie, I haven’t forgotten.

My brothers haven’t forgiven anything.

As I’m walking toward Penn Station, not watching where I’m going, I start to trip, but two strong arms grab me, keeping me from falling.

“I’m so sor?—”

The words die on my lips as a pair of ice blue eyes that I’d know anywhere stare down at me.

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