“Neal told Gary that I went to get an abortion?” Her voice was nothing more than a dry rasp. The question that had haunted her for years had finally been answered. Donna Dee didn’t realize that she had put the missing puzzle piece in place, but she had.
Jade had craved to know what had prompted Gary to suicide. Now she knew. He had been told she was pregnant, thereby making her not only unfaithful to him but a liar.
It was inconsequential how Neal had found out she was pregnant—Patrice Watley had probably told him. He had wasted no time in telling Gary. Then, having had his faith in her completely destroyed, Gary had killed himself. There seemed no limit to Neal’s treachery.
Jade clasped her hands together at her waist. “You’d better go, Donna Dee.”
“You didn’t get an abortion that day, did you?”
“I’m asking you to go.”
“Your son is that same baby, isn’t he? Listen to me, Jade.” She inhaled deeply, as though bracing herself. “About a year ago, Hutch got to feeling bad all the time. For as long as he could, he disregarded the symptoms. You know how stubborn men can be about things like that. They never want to admit that they’re anything less than Superman.
“So,” she continued, “we didn’t find out what was wrong until he had renal failure. He was diagnosed with a rare kidney disease. Since then, he’s been on dialysis. Nobody in town knows. We’ve kept it a secret so he wouldn’t lose his job. But even that isn’t important now.”
She took a tissue from her purse and blotted her eyes. “Anyway, his kidneys are shot. The dialysis isn’t working anymore. He’s got to have a transplant to survive.”
“I’m sorry for you both.”
“Jade,” Donna Dee said beseechingly, “the best hope Hutch has of a transplant is your son.”
“What?” she gasped with disbelief.
Donna Dee left her chair and moved to within inches of Jade. “Hutch and I never had any children. We tried everything, but I never got pregnant. Dora died two years ago, so Hutch doesn’t have any family left.
“Before we find a random donor, he could run out of time. Jade,” she cried, reaching out to clutch Jade’s arm, “if Hutch is Graham’s father, Graham could be the donor Hutch needs.”
Jade pulled her arm free and backed away from her as though she had a contagious disease. “Have you lost your mind? Never, Donna Dee.”
“For God’s sake, we’re talking about a human life!”
“Yes, exactly—Gary’s life. He died as a consequence of what Hutch did to me, no matter how you whitewash it for your conscience. You knew damn well I was telling the truth that day in the sheriff’s office. You knew, Donna Dee! Afterward, you perpetuated the lies being told about me.”
“I was eighteen fucking years old,” she shouted. “I was pissed off because the guy I was crazy about lusted after my best friend and not me.”
“That’s hardly justification. Your petty jealousy is partially responsible for driving Gary to commit suicide.”
Donna Dee covered her ears with her hands, but Jade pulled them down.
“I wouldn’t sacrifice one drop of my son’s blood on the outside chance that it would save Hutch’s life.”
“You’re a self-righteous, self-important bitch,” Donna Dee said scathingly. “You always were.”
“The most important thing in the world to me now is my son. My son, Donna Dee. He belongs to no one but me. And no one is going to touch him.”
Donna Dee’s glare was so blatantly full of hatred that, had Jade’s resolve not been so strong, it might have quelled her. Donna Dee turned her back, opened the door, and stalked out. Jade hastily locked the door behind her, then lunged for the telephone.
Cathy answered on the second ring. “Cathy, is Graham there?”
“Of course. He’s sitting right here eating his supper. You told us to go ahead without you.”
“Yes, yes, I’m glad you did.” Her knees were trembling. She sank into the chair behind her desk. “Listen, Cathy, I’d rather Graham not go outside again this evening. Not even to ride his bike on the street, or to skateboard or shoot baskets.”
“We planned to watch a movie on HBO after supper.”
“Good. That’s fine.”
“What’s wrong?”