No. It was about someone I loved. Loved.
It was about Portia Collins.
She was all that mattered right now.
21
Portia
I all but leapt out of the car once I parked at the hospital. I drove. No way I was trusting Tanya with our ancient Toyota Prius on the dark roads around Darlington at night. The last thing we needed was to hit a deer when Reba needed us.
But screw the speed limit. Tanya was a freaking expert at talking and hair-flipping her way out of speeding tickets, and God could only be so cruel to one family, couldn’t he?
Rebs needed me and I would get to her, come hell or high water.
I’d grilled Tanya the whole drive about her condition, but hadn’t gotten much other than, “She’s really sick,” out of her. Reba had apparently had another UTI, a big problem for someone in the end stages of renal failure, and Tanya had gotten her to the hospital “just in time”.
Whatever the fuck that meant. But it was also bad enough to come and get me when we all knew why I was there.
And I was fucking terrified that Tanya had only come and gotten me so I’d have a chance to say goodbye.
The very thought of ever saying goodbye to my baby sister put a fire in my belly that had me now sprinting across the parking lot. I ran into the lobby and demanded, “I need to see Reba Collins.”
“I know what room she’s in. LeAnn texted me,” Tanya said from behind me, holding up her phone. Probably a good thing because the lady behind the intake desk frankly looked afraid of me, or like she was about two seconds away from calling for backup.
I ignored her and turned to Tanya. “Let’s go. Where is she?”
Tanya asked for directions, something I was in no mood to do, and then we hurried down the hallways and up the elevator to the second floor and down even more hallways.
“Come on, baby, come on, baby,” I kept whispering under my breath. “Come on, baby girl. You’re gonna be just fine.” She had to be. She’d come this far. We’d all come this far. She’d be fine.
We finally came to a lobby and LeAnn jumped up from a chair. Her normally perfect make-up was blotchy and smeared. She’d obviously been crying. She ran towards us and flung her arms around me.
“Where have you been?” she cried even as she squeezed me. “Beba is so sick. And you ran away just like Daddy.” LeAnn’s pet name for Reba had been Beba ever since she was little and couldn’t pronounce her R’s right. The name had stuck ever since.
Gut punch. Of course Tanya and I hadn’t told her where I was really going or what I was doing. But I had told her I was going for Reba. I combed my fingers through LeAnn’s hair as I clutched her to me, tears finally falling down my own cheeks. “You know I was gone to try to get Reba her new kidney.”
LeAnn pulled back from me, eyes hopeful. “Did you get it? She needs it, Porsche. She needs it now or it might not matter.”
Double gut punch. I shook my head, my bottom lip trembling. After tonight, leaving the premises like this… no, there was no way. I’d lost my chance. I’d lost Reba her chance at a kidney.
It had all been for nothing.
LeAnn made a noise of grief and anger and I pulled her close to me. She resisted for a long moment but finally gave in. She didn’t hug me back, but at least she let me hug her. I needed it even if she was angry at me right now for failing her. For failing all of them.
“Tell me. How is she?” I asked. “Did they let you see her?”
LeAnn pulled back, all the way away from me and crossed her arms over her chest. She dropped her gaze to the floor, her hair falling and shielding her features from me. Still, I heard her murmur, “It’s bad.”
Goddammit, why did everyone keep saying that but not giving me any more details?
But just then, a nurse came out. I hurried over. “I’m the oldest sister of Reba Collins. Please, I need to know her condition. What’s happening with her? Is there a doctor I can speak to about her condition?”
A look of sympathy passed over the woman’s face. “I’ll get Dr. Reynard for you. Just one moment.”
I nodded and let her continue on her way. She gave some papers to another person in the waiting room then disappeared back behind the door. I paced and bit at my fingernails for the next ten minutes until a middle-aged woman emerged.
I hurried over to her. “Dr. Reynard?” I asked hopefully. “I’m Reba’s oldest sister.”
She gave a soft, kindly smile. “She was asking for you earlier, but she’s asleep now.”