Canon
“Mrs. Saint. . . uh, Mathis, it’s Canon Holt.”
There’s a loaded pause on the other end of the line.
“Neevah’s director?”
“Yes, but I’m also . . .” I should have asked Neevah what she told her mother about us. Fuck it. “We’re also seeing each other. I’m not sure if she mentioned—”
“She did. In so many words. Is she . . . is she okay? Is something wrong?”
“I know she’s spoken with you about her lupus diagnosis and the kidney trouble.”
“Yes, I’m being tested, but they think I may be too old. Sixty is not old,” she says with indignant pride. “But they want a younger kidney.”
“Her sister still doesn’t know, right?” An edge creeps into my words.
“I told Neevah to ask her because it’s killing me, not being able to tell Terry. Has something happened?”
“Neevah’s in the hospital.” I glance up the hall that leads to her room. “She’s resting, but her blood pressure spiked again. They want to keep her here to monitor for at least a few days. They said some patients with kidney failure have been known to have strokes or heart problems.”
I draw a sharp breath that does jack shit to calm my rioting emotions. “The medications they’ve been using to manage her kidney function just aren’t doing a good enough job. She’s been trying to avoid dialysis, but her doctor thinks temporary dialysis is the best thing until we find a kidney.”
“Oh, my God,” Mrs. Mathis gasps. “What . . . what can I do?”
“She asked for you. Can you come?”
“I . . . I’m afraid to fly,” she says, and I hear the shame and frustration in her voice. “I know it’s silly, but—”
“Galaxy, the studio producing the movie Neevah’s in, has a private plane. Would you be willing to come, to try, if I could arrange that? It’s more comfortable than flying commercial, and it might be easier for you.”
“Could I bring someone with me?”
“Of course.” I don’t hesitate because she could bring Attila the Hun, far as I care.
“Terry?” Mrs. Mathis asks tentatively. “Could I bring Neevah’s sister? I think I could fly if she’s with me.”
I already know Neevah won’t be happy, but I don’t know how to balance everything she wants with what she needs. She needs a kidney but doesn’t want to ask her sister, who is her best shot. She wants her mother but wouldn’t want her sister to come. I love her enough to deal with the fallout if I make the wrong moves.
“Just come,” I say with a heavy sigh. “Can you come tonight if I make the arrangements?”
She agrees and we disconnect. I immediately dial Evan and brace myself for another conversation I’d rather not have.
“Hey, what’s up?” Evan asks. “Have you seen that last batch of film from the labs? It looks fantastic.”
“Yeah, I watched some earlier today. I need—”
“You should be able to start editing soon, right? I mean, I know we still have a few scenes with Neevah and the band, but Monk says we should wrap this week. We can get at least close to back on track.”
“I don’t think that’s gonna happen, man.” I sit in one of the waiting room chairs. “Neevah’s back in the hospital.”
“What? Is she . . . what’s going on?”
“Basically, the meds they have her on aren’t doing a good enough job.” I pass a hand over my eyes and rest my elbows on my knees. “Dr. Okafor wants to put her on dialysis.”
“Dialysis? Wow. That’s . . .”
I know Evan too well not to anticipate how torn he is. He feels for Neevah, and by extension, for me, but his wheels are also turning to work out how we can salvage this production. I never thought I’d say it, but Dessi Blue is the least of my worries right now.