Neevah
I walkup the hall to my sister’s hospital room with a divided heart. On one hand, I’m elated. I’m getting a new kidney, and potentially, a new lease on life. I can’t even adequately express my gratitude to Terry for this sacrifice, but there are things that remain unsaid between us. I fully anticipate that we’ll both be fine. Our surgeries are straightforward, but not without potential complications and risks. We’ve done a few family counseling sessions by video, and we’ve made progress repairing the breach. Things are getting better between us than they’ve been in years, but I can’t say we’ve forgiven each other. And I won’t go under until I’ve at least told her she has that from me.
I poke my head in, glad to find her alone in the room. Soon all the preparations will begin. Her surgery occurs first, obviously, to remove her kidney, and then they’ll transplant it into me. Any minute, the nurses and doctors will come. I have to get back to my room up the hall for preparation, too, but this won’t take long.
“Hey.” I fix a smile on my face, which feels unnatural because there have been too few smiles between us since I left home.
She glances up, and I see myself in her. In the heart-shaped face and the coppery skin. The tilt of our eyes. I recognize the fear, too. As much of a blessing as this is, it’s scary for us both.
“Hey,” she says, her smile looking as forced as mine feels. “They let you out?”
I nod, stepping all the way in, letting the door close behind me, and approach the bed.
“One of the ladies from church called,” she says. “So Mama stepped out to take it. She’ll be back, if you’re looking for her.”
“I came to see you,” I say, holding her guarded gaze. “I only have a few minutes. I’m sure my warden will be looking for me soon.”
“You mean your nurse or your man? Because I think this is the first time I’ve seen you without Canon glued to your side.”
I chuckle, my forced smile easing into the real thing. “He’s intense and concerned. He’s in one of the waiting rooms finishing a call with the studio and wanted to get it over with before the surgery starts.”
“He loves you and it’s obvious you got it bad for him.”
“I do.” I nod, my insides melting at the thought of how supportive and protective and unwavering Canon has been. “I had no idea he would be . . . who he is. I guess you never know where your heart will lead you.”
“Brand and Quianna ran down to grab something to eat,” she says abruptly, the softened lines of her face stiffening to wax. “If you want to avoid him, you should make this quick.”
“I don’t need to avoid him. This does have to be quick, but only because we both need to prepare.” I haul in a deep breath and dive in. “I couldn’t go into surgery, let you do this without—”
“Let me just stop you right there, Neev.” A deep swallow moves her throat and she bites her bottom lip, glancing down at the hands in her lap. “You don’t have to thank me or whatever this is. I should have been the one walking up the hall. I’ve been thinking about it all morning, knowing you were down there. I’ve been . . .” She closes her eyes and a single tear streaks down her cheek. “I’ve been ashamed of what I did, of what we did, since that day in the living room all those years ago. I was young and stupid and insecure and jealous.”
She huffs a rough laugh, a wry grin tipping her mouth. “I did like him, you know.”
I take a few steps closer until my hip butts up against the hospital bed. “Brandon?”
“I liked him as soon as I saw him in freshman orientation, but he was the only boy in our class who wasn’t after me. That’s probably why I wanted him, because he wasn’t interested.” She looks up, the last dregs of resentment there. “And then you came. A freshman, and you were the one he wanted. I hated that. I guess I hated you a little. One more thing you hadn’t even tried to get and got anyway.”
“You could have told me you liked him, T. I wouldn’t have given him the time of day if I’d known.”
“I was too proud to admit the boy I wanted didn’t want me back. When you told me that he wanted to have sex and that you weren’t ready . . . well, I know how boys are, and I saw my chance.”
After all these years, after all we’ve been through and who we’ve become, knowing now what real love is, I can’t even muster anger anymore for what Terry and Brandon destroyed. What I had with him was love in effigy, a crude imitation worthy of only being burned. If Brandon had betrayed me with anyone other than the person I held dearest, I would have moved on, never looking back. But it had been with Terry. And there was a child, the beautiful, breathing evidence of not how much his betrayal hurt, but of hers.
“Can you forgive me?” Terry asks, her voice breaking over the plea, her eyes overflowing. “I know what I did—”
“Yes.” I lean forward and wrap my arms around her. It is our first hug in almost thirteen years, and she feels the same. Not the dimensions of her body, but the comfort of her; the tight squeeze of her arms. “I forgive you, T. And I’m sorry it took so long. I wish . . .”
I don’t have words for all the wishes, only tears, and they pour out of me. Tears for every missed birthday and Christmas. For all the times I had something to celebrate and wished I could share it with her, but was unable to forget or forgive. For every gut-busting laugh we haven’t had, and for all the hard times we haven’t walked through together.
For my niece. Not knowing her because of our pride and our foolishness.
All the stone encasing my heart against Terry shatters, and I don’t feel the hate or anger or bitterness. I feel her, and I am overwhelmed by the rightness of my sister in my arms again. We are both prodigals, wandered far from one another, now home again. Every test the doctors ran proved that we were matched by God. Bone, tissue, flesh, blood. We were made for today—for a moment when my sister would save me. We weep together, a release long coming. A flood of broken cries and half-words and gasps of relief.
“Oh!”
The sound from the door has Terry and me turning our heads. Mama stands there, hand to her mouth, tears streaking her face, too.
“It’s about time,” she says with a shaky, tearful laugh.