Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
“My gray sundress,” she told him.
He helped her dress and brush her hair. She asked for a little bit of makeup, and even though they had a long drive ahead of them and it would wear off, he did as she asked. After he’d dressed, they made their way to the Jeep for one last road trip. He loaded her into the car, and then their luggage and her chair, and then climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Where to, Palmer?” He choked out the words and stared out the window.
“The beach.”
He nodded, scrolled through his phone for the address to Crissy Field, and plugged it into GPS. After a stop for gas and provisions to keep him alert on the long drive ahead, he set off one last time. As soon as he was on the interstate, he reached for Palmer’s hand and held it. Not only did he need the comfort, but the paramedic in him needed to be able to check her pulse. As of now, it was faint, and he prayed he’d get her back to San Francisco before it was too late.
Kent drove, into the sun, through traffic, detours, delays, and into the evening. Palmer woke sporadically and would talk to him for an hour or so, and then fall back to sleep. Those rare hours were the most important to him. He recounted their trip from the moment he’d given her his pitch through them dancing in the rain. In her somewhat alert state, she’d bring up little tidbits that were meant to make him laugh, but all humor was gone. He would talk until he was sure she was asleep, and then he would go about his thoughts and how he was going to move forward with his life.
Each break, he would check her vitals. He no longer asked her if she was hungry whenever she’d grace him with opening her eyes. Kent would tell her how much he loved her and tell her to hang on because they were almost home. He sped when he could and cursed the heavy traffic of Bakersfield. He never wished more for wigwags than he did now.
When his phone rang, he answered. “We have Palmer’s results earlier than expected,” the doctor told Kent.
Kent looked at his wife, dying peacefully next to him. “Is Palmer’s liver a candidate?”
“Yes, it’s a match, and despite the tumor, Palmer could donate, since she didn’t seek treatment. Her liver is healthy and a match for Courtney.”
Kent nodded, even though the doctor couldn’t see him. “I’ll tell Palmer.” He glanced at his wife. “It won’t be long,” he said to the doctor before he hung up. Deep down, he already knew what Palmer would say. She would want to help Courtney any way she could, and if that meant donating her liver, so be it.
When they got to Oakland, Kent called Damian.
“Wagner?”
“Are you on shift?”
“What? Not yet. What’s wrong?”
“I need a favor.”
“Okay. What is it?”
Kent took a deep breath. “Palmer . . . she’s . . . this is it. We’re heading to Crissy Field now. It’s where she wants to . . .” He couldn’t bring himself to say the word.
“Shit. Okay. I didn’t realize you were back in town.”
“We weren’t until now. Listen, can you stage there? She’s donating her organs.”
“She should be in the hospital, Kent. You know this.”
“It doesn’t matter what I know, Damian. All that matters is what she wants, and this is how she wants to go. Can you stage there?”
“Let me call Greig and Matthews. I can’t do it without their permission. You know this.”
“Call me back.” Kent hung up and looked at his wife. Her diamond ring sparkled and cast a prism of light all around her. Marrying her had been the best damn decision he had ever made, aside from taking her on their road trip.
Kent’s phone rang, and Jacob Matthews’s name appeared on the screen. Kent answered, and the reply from his deputy chief was gruff and groggy. Had Damian woken their boss up?
“Sorry to wake you, sir,” Kent said into the speaker phone.
“You didn’t, Wagner. I’ve been down with a cold. What can I help with?”
Kent reiterated everything he had told Damian and waited for Matthews to say something.
Matthews sighed. “This goes against my better judgment.”
“I understand, sir, but I’m trying to honor her wishes. She doesn’t want to die in a hospital.”
The silence on the other end scared Kent. He hadn’t failed on a promise yet and didn’t want her last request to be waylaid by policy.
“I’ll send a bus out to stage, Wagner.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Kent hung up and made his way through the city traffic to Crissy Field. When he pulled into the parking lot, he saw two rigs blocking the entrance path to the beach. He parked, and as much as he wanted to greet his coworkers, he had more pressing matters to take care of.