Just Destiny (6 page)

She turned away.
Didn’t think so
.

Amy moved to the other side of Gabe’s bed, back into Jenny’s field of vision. “I’m very sorry for your loss. I’m here to present you with an opportunity to have your husband live on through other people as an organ donor. Have you and your husband ever discussed this possibility?”

Feeling ashamed at taking her frustrations out on the woman, Jenny shook her head. “The subject never came up.” She paused. “Gabe’s a doctor. A colleague of his was here last night and broached the idea of organ donation. I practically took the man’s head off.”

“I understand.”

Really?
How could she understand? Jenny tried to shake off her annoyance at the woman’s agreeability. “When he suggested I consider donating Gabe’s organs, all I could think was, he’d have to be dead to do that. And I wasn’t convinced he was gone. I mean intellectually I know. I’ve seen the test results, I’ve talked to the experts, but it doesn’t feel so in here.” She tapped a hand over her heart.

“That does make it more difficult,” Amy agreed. “But the hospital has quite specific criteria in determining brain death. A lot of families take great comfort from knowing that their loved one’s death wasn’t for nothing.

“You can choose which organs and tissues he would have wanted recovered or you can donate his whole body, in which case as many as fifty people could be helped. Your husband could live on in as many as fifty people. That’s quite a legacy.”

Not the legacy that would bring Jenny any comfort. She looked at her beloved husband. How could Gabe really be gone? She dragged in a deep ragged breath, struggling to get oxygen past her raw, constricted throat. With one trembling hand, she rubbed the tears from her eyes.

“I don’t know. If Gabe wanted to be an organ donor, why didn’t he check the box? He knew how important it was.” She looked at Amy, puzzled. “You’d think a doctor would know better.” Why on earth would he leave such and important decision unmade—up to her?

“I’m not surprised. Only about forty-five percent of Americans have joined their state's organ donor registry, even though, according to Gallup polls, more than ninety percent of people support organ donation and think it's a good thing.” She pursed her lips and shrugged. “People just don't get around to it, or they aren't asked when they renew their license, or they want to discuss it with their family first but have trouble starting the conversation—or any number of reasons. But you can do it for him. You can give your husband a wonderful legacy and make something positive come from his loss.”

I can, but should I?
She’d lost so much during the past twenty-four hours. Gabe. Their baby. They’d left her to go on alone. Jenny’s top teeth clamped down on her bottom lip.

She looked at the lady. “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll sign. But I want something first.” Jenny paused. “I want Gabe’s sperm saved so I can still have his baby. That’s the legacy I want. Can you do that?”

Amy frowned. “I don’t know. I’d have to check with our director. As far as I know, it’s never been done.”

“But it’s possible?”

“I don’t see why not. But I’m not sure they have the facilities here to store the sperm.”

“I don’t live here anyway. We’re from Grosse Pointe.”

“Let me talk to my boss and do some research.” With her index finger tapping her flat lips, Amy raised unfocused eyes to some distant point while she thought out loud. “If the hospital has an ethics committee, we’ll probably have to get permission from them. Then I’ll have to find a doctor willing to perform the surgery…and then get hold of a sperm bank.”

“Will that take long? I assume they’ll want to take his organs soon.”

“Which organs would you want to donate?”

Decision made, a shot of adrenaline raced through her. Oh no, what had she done?
What Gabe would have wanted
, her little voice whispered. Gabe might have chosen this, but
she
wasn’t ready.
He’s gone; it has to be now
. But—
He’ll always be with you, imprinted on your mind and heart. You know it’s true
.

A peaceful feeling settled over her, slowing her tripping heart. This was right. A tender smile curved her lips as she looked at Gabe. “He’d want to help as many people as possible.”

“Wonderful.” Amy beamed. “I’ll contact the transplant teams immediately and let them know you’ve consented to donate. They’ll give him some medicine to thin his blood and maximize the health of his organs, so don’t be alarmed when you see him getting extra medication.” She stood and headed for the door. “I’ll get the consent forms and make those phone calls.”

“Wait,” Jenny called out. “Before I sign any forms. For my own peace of mind, could we turn off the ventilator just to be sure he can’t breathe on his own? I know they said the machine’s breathing for him, but I need to see it for myself. Please.”

The lady frowned, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. “I’ll talk to his doctor. We may be able to arrange something.”

“Thank you.”

Two hours later, Dr. Collins returned to Gabe’s room. “Jenny? I hear you’ve consented to donate your husband’s organs.”

She nodded. “But I need to be sure. I know you said he’s gone, but what if it’s a mistake? What if he’s just in a coma? Can you turn the ventilator off so I can see for myself?”

Hands deep in her lab-coat pockets, Dr. Collins listened. “There’s just one problem. If we turn it off—his heart can only survive a very short time without oxygen before it’ll stop—there’s a very real possibility that we couldn’t start it again and then his organs would be unsuitable for recovery.” She paused before simplifying it for Jenny. “You wouldn’t be able to see the flat line on the EKG—we couldn’t let it go that far.”

“But there’s a little time?”

“Only about a minute.”

Hope swelled from desolation. A minute could be a long time. It could be enough. “Could we try? Please? I have to give him that chance.”

Dr. Collins hesitated, clearly reluctant to take the risk, but she relented. “Sure.” She turned to a nurse who entered the room. “Cindy, get the crash cart.”

When the nurse wheeled the big red metal cart resembling a huge mechanic’s toolbox into the room, Dr. Collins turned to Jenny. “Ready?”

Jenny stood next to Gabe’s bed. In two and a half short years this man had become her life. He meant the world to her. Without him, Jenny was nothing. She would not give up on him now. Gabe was all that was good in her, and she couldn’t accept his death without proof. Maybe they were wrong. Maybe he was locked deep inside a coma recovering from the trauma of the accident. He might still be able to come back to her. He might not really be dead. God couldn’t be that cruel.

She looked at the doctor and nodded for her to turn off the respirator.

Gabe’s chest jerked a little, rose, and then fell on his own. Jenny’s heart soared. See? They’d all been wrong. They hadn’t had enough faith, she thought as she watched his chest jump again.

“He’s breathing! Did you see that? He’s breathing on his own.” Grinning like a fool, she looked at the doctor, but no triumphant smile lit her face, only a deep frown of concentration as she split her attention between her patient and the EKG machine.

Jenny turned back to watch Gabe’s chest rise and fall sporadically. “He’s breathing. He’s doing it.” She grinned and picked up his slack hand, squeezing it. “Gabe, it’s me. Wake up, honey. You’re gonna be all right. Everything’s gonna be all right.”

Jenny’s smile faded, wilting like a rose out of water, as she scanned Gabe’s slightly graying face. He lay perfectly still. No breathing, no twitching. Nothing. The EKG monitor blipped erratically, nowhere near the steady reassuring blipping inspired by the ventilator. Eyes wide, Jenny stared at Gabe’s chest willing it to move.

“Oh, no.” She shook his hand. “No. Come on. Don’t do this to me. Breathe.”

His face took on a definite blue tinge.

“Gabe, breathe,” she whispered. Panic raced through her. “Breathe. Please, breathe.”

His chest remained still.

She reached out a trembling hand to his face, half afraid it would be cold. It wasn’t, but no soft breath exhaled on her hand either. Her tear-filled gaze darted between the frowning doctor and Gabe’s inert form.

“Help him! Turn it on. Turn it on! Don’t let him die,” she begged, fear constricting her throat. “I’m not ready. I’m not ready. I’m not ready,” she chanted through trembling lips. She pressed her folded arms against the crushing pain souring her stomach. “I can’t do this. Please, don’t let him die.”

Dr. Collins flipped the switch and Gabe’s chest rose and fell again as the respirator inflated then deflated his lungs for him. After listening to his heart and checking the machines one last time, the doctor nodded for the nurse to wheel the crash cart out of the room. She rounded the bed and put an arm around Jenny’s shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

Jenny nodded as the tears cascaded down her face. She clutched Gabe’s hand while watching his color gradually return. The doctor slipped a box of tissues within her field of vision, but Jenny couldn’t bring herself to let go of his hand or tear her gaze from his precious face.

He was really gone. She bowed her head and sobbed. What was she going to do?

With one trembling hand, Jenny rubbed the tears from her eyes. She took small shallow breaths to calm her galloping heart. Refusing to turn away from Gabe, Jenny forced herself to give them the answer they all wanted—the answer Gabe would have wanted. “All right. I’ll sign.”

“I’ll let them know. If it’s any consolation, I think you’re very brave. I’m sure your husband would be proud.” Dr. Collins left the room.

Why not just pat me on the head too
? Jenny wanted to be polite and say thank you, but the words stuck in her throat. She couldn’t be gracious. She wasn’t thankful about any of this. She just wanted her husband back.

Gabe, what am I supposed to do without you?

* * *

Jenny dozed fitfully in the chair at Gabe’s bedside. The kitchen staff brought her breakfast and lunch, and Jenny did her best to choke down some of it. The phone in her pants pocket pulsed. She checked the number but didn’t answer it. Steve. Pulling herself out of the chair, she glanced at Gabe before going downstairs to the lobby to call their friend back.

“Jenny? Are you all right? I heard about the accident on the news. Is Gabe okay?” The worry in Steve’s voice suddenly made it all real again.

“No. Gabe’s…Um…” She pushed a lock of hair behind an ear. Turning away from eavesdropping people, Jenny rested her head against the wall and lowered her voice. “Gabe’s not all right.”

“Sit tight. I’ll be right th—”

“No, don’t. There’s nothing you can do. Gabe’s gone.” Tears flooded her eyes and stung her nose. She swallowed hard. “The damage to his brain was too much.”

“I’m on my way.”

“No, please—really.” She didn’t want Steve—didn’t want anybody. Just Gabe. “Judith and the kids will be here soon.”
I can’t take anymore
. She wanted them all to go away and leave her alone with Gabe. “Stay home,” she pleaded.

“Jenny, I can—”

“No!”
Damn it. Just leave us alone
. “Please, just take care of Ritz.”

“Okay,” he said quietly. “If that’s what you want. If you change your mind, I can be there in three hours.”

“I have to go.” Jenny slid the phone closed and sagged against the wall, exhausted. Several minutes later, she returned to Gabe’s room, hoping she’d find him sitting up in bed, alert and hungry, but one look at his peaceful face and her heart dropped anew. Nothing had changed.

Nurses fiddled with his IV and adjusted lines here and there, but Jenny ignored them, tuning them out, until her stepchildren arrived with their mother.

“Jenny?” Alex and Ted hesitated in the doorway, as if worried they’d be intruding. “Mom’s talking with Dad’s doctor. She said it was all right to come in,” Alex whispered. The wide-eyed girl stood slightly behind her frowning big brother, clutching his arm.

Jenny smiled, wanting to look strong and confident for Gabe’s children. Though in college, right now Ted and Alex resembled much younger kids. Many wonderful things had come from her marriage and these two kids were one of her best blessings.

“Hey, hi.” Jenny waved them in and stood. “Come on in.”

Being a stepmom hadn’t always been easy—especially when Jenny was closer to her stepchildren’s ages than her husband’s, but Gabe had always been supportive of her relationship with his kids.

They each gave her a long tight hug before lining up behind her, making sure Jenny was between them and their father. They cast worried looks past her at the bed. Putting an arm about each kid, Jenny urged them closer. “It’s okay. There’s no need to be frightened.”

Ted stared at his dad. “He looks like he’s sleeping.”

“I know.”

Alex frowned at Gabe and then quickly looked away. “Mom said he’s dead,” she whispered, as if it would hurt Gabe’s feelings to hear.

Jenny swallowed against the tears swelling the back of her throat and nodded. She cleared her throat. “I talk to him. I think his spirit’s still hanging around.” A smile trembled on her lips. “You know your dad. He’d want to say goodbye and let you feel how much he loves you.”

“Did he say goodbye to you? Did you get to talk to him?” Alex asked.

Jenny pursed her lips and shook her head. No; no goodbyes. They'd been having a fight. A stupid argument. Her last words to Gabe had been mean and hurtful. God, she hated herself.

She moved around Ted. “I’ll go find your mom.”

Jenny raised Gabe’s hand and kissed the back of it, then pressed her mouth to his cheek in a brief, tender kiss, showing the kids that being left alone with their father wasn’t scary.

She found Judith at the nurses’ station reviewing Gabe’s chart. Tall and well proportioned, Judith had a commanding presence. As an older woman and a doctor, she always managed to make Jenny feel stupid and immature. From a distance, she watched Judith pore over the reports, desperately hoping that maybe she could find a miracle everyone else overlooked.