Part 26 (2/2)

Claire pushed herself to a sitting position and let the dog crawl into her lap. She scratched behind his ears while he tried to chew on the wire that ran from beneath Claire's hospital gown to the heart monitor.

”We won't have a lot of time,” I said quickly. ”Someone's going to-”

Just then, a nurse walked in holding a digital thermometer. ”Rise and s.h.i.+ne, missy,” she began, and then she saw the dog on the bed. ”What is that doing in here?” is that doing in here?”

I looked at Claire, and then back at the nurse. ”Visiting?” I suggested.

”Mrs. Nealon, not even service dogs are allowed onto this ward without a letter from the vet stating that the vaccinations are up to date and the stool's tested negative for parasites-”

”I was just trying to make Claire feel better. He won't leave this room, I swear.”

”I'll give you five minutes,” the nurse said. ”But you have to promise you won't bring him in again before the transplant.”

Claire, who had a death grip on the dog, glanced up. ”Transplant?” she repeated. ”What transplant?” transplant?”

”She was being theoretical,” I said quickly.

”Dr. Wu doesn't schedule theoretical transplants,” the nurse said.

Claire blinked at me. ”Mom?” There was a thread in her voice that had started to unravel.

The nurse turned on her heel. ”I'm counting,” she said, and left the room.

”Is it true?” Claire asked. ”There's a heart for me?”

”We're not sure. There's a catch ...”

”There's always always a catch,” Claire said. ”I mean, how many hearts have turned out to not be as great as Dr. Wu expected?” a catch,” Claire said. ”I mean, how many hearts have turned out to not be as great as Dr. Wu expected?”

”Well, this one ... it's not ready for transplant yet. It's sort of still being used.”

Claire laughed a little. ”What are you planning to do? Kill Kill someone?” someone?”

I didn't answer.

”Is the donor really sick, or old? How could she even be be a donor if she's sick or old?” Claire asked. a donor if she's sick or old?” Claire asked.

”Honey,” I said. ”We have to wait for the donor to be executed.”

Claire was not stupid. I watched her put together this new information with what she'd heard on television. Her hands tightened on Dudley. ”No way way,” she said quietly. ”I am not taking a heart from the guy who killed my father and my sister.”

”He wants to give give it to you. He offered.” it to you. He offered.”

”This is sick,” Claire said. ”You're sick.” She struggled to get up, but she was tethered to the bed with tubes and wires.

”Even Dr. Wu said that it's an amazing match for you and your body. I couldn't just say no.”

”What about me? Don't I I get to say no?” get to say no?”

”Claire, baby, you know donors don't come along every day. I had had to do it.” to do it.”

”Then undo undo it,” she demanded. ”Tell them I don't want his stupid heart.” it,” she demanded. ”Tell them I don't want his stupid heart.”

I sank down on the edge of the hospital bed. ”It's just a muscle. It doesn't mean you'll be like him.” I paused. ”And besides, he owes owes this to us.” this to us.”

”He doesn't owe us anything! Why don't you get that?” Her eyes filled with tears. ”You can't tie the score, Mom. You just have to start over.”

Her monitors began to sound an alert; her pulse was rising, her heart pumping too hard. Dudley began to bark. ”Claire, you have to calm down ...”

”This isn't about him,” Claire said. ”This isn't even about me. It's about you you. You You need to get payment for what happened to Elizabeth. need to get payment for what happened to Elizabeth. You You need to make him pay for what he did. Where do need to make him pay for what he did. Where do I I fit into that?” fit into that?”

The nurse flew into the room like a great white heron, fussing over Claire. ”What's going on in here?” she said, checking the connections and tubes and drips.

”Nothing,” we both said simultaneously.

The nurse gave me a measured glance. ”I highly recommend you take that dog away and let Claire get some rest.”

I reached for Dudley and wrestled him back into the duffel bag. ”Just think about it,” I pleaded.

Ignoring me, Claire reached into the bag and patted the dog. ”Good-bye,” she whispered.

MICHAEL.

I had gone back to St. Catherine's. I told Father Walter that I had not been seeing clearly, and that G.o.d had opened my eyes to the truth.

I just neglected to mention that G.o.d happened to be sitting on I-tier about three miles away from our church, awaiting an expedited trial that began this week.

Each night, I said three consecutive rosaries-penance for lying to Father Walter-but I had had to be there. I had to do something constructive with my time, now that I wasn't spending it with Shay. Since I'd confessed to him at the hospital that I'd served on the jury that had convicted him, he'd refused to see me. to be there. I had to do something constructive with my time, now that I wasn't spending it with Shay. Since I'd confessed to him at the hospital that I'd served on the jury that had convicted him, he'd refused to see me.

There was a part of me that understood his reaction-imagine how it would feel to know your confidant had betrayed you-but there was another part of me that spent hours trying to figure out why divine forgiveness hadn't kicked in yet. Then again, if the Gospel of Thomas was to be believed, no matter how much time and s.p.a.ce Shay put between us, we were never really separate: mankind and divinity were flip sides of the same coin.

And so, every day at noon, I told Father Walter I was meeting a fictional couple at their house to try to guide them away from the path of divorce. But instead, I rode my Trophy to the prison, burrowed through the crowds, and went inside to try to see Shay.

CO Whitaker was called to escort me to I-tier after I'd pa.s.sed through the metal detectors at the visitor's booth. ”Hi, Father. You here to sell Girl Scout cookies?”

”You know it,” I replied. ”Anything exciting happen today?”

”Let's see. Joey Kunz got a medical visit for diarrhea.”

”Wow,” I said. ”Sorry I missed that.”

As I suited up in my flak jacket, Whitaker went into I-tier to tell Shay I'd come. Again. But no more than five seconds had pa.s.sed before he returned, a sheepish look on his face. ”Not today, Father,” he said. ”Sorry.”

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