In Our Bones

—

Theo's resident doctor was young and hot. Like really hot. Black hair, blue eyes, chiseled features, and was overall extremely handsome, but I was too worried to feel faint around him. I was trying to keep it together while Theo's doctor explained the surgery to him again, as he had months ago when we'd first gone over it.

"Will it hurt?" Theo asked.

"You won't feel a thing," Dr. Westley Spenrath said. He flashed Theo a brilliant smile and held out his fist, pinky out. "I pinky promise." They linked pinkies, and the sacred promise was made.

Dr. Spenrath answered more of Theo's questions and told him that he'd be staying overnight since technically the heart would not be ready until tomorrow afternoon. I found out later that a twelve-year-old girl was being taken off life-support in the morning. Her name was Kaya. I would never forget her name.

It was then that the vultures came for me. They had me sign tons of paperwork and then they sat down with me and asked me how I was going to pay for the organ. We'd talked about this months in advance, and I'd been doing everything I could to come up with the money. His school had held a fundraiser, and we'd all done car washes and had been putting up fliers asking for donations. Aspen had donated almost a quarter of a million dollars, her entire life's savings.

I was still just over sixty thousand dollars short.

"Is there any way you can come up with the rest by tomorrow?"

"I, uh... sixty thousand," I said, stunned. "I-I'll see what I can do. How much time do I have?"

"Until tomorrow morning."

I had less than twelve hours to come up with sixty thousand dollars. Less than twelve fucking hours.

—

Aspen arrived at the hospital and kept Theo company while I drove over to the one place I'd never expected to go for help. The roots of the tree in the front of the house were still sticking out, and I remembered all those years ago when I'd trip over them every Saturday in the early hours of the morning.

"June."

The door opened before I knocked, revealing Booker. He didn't look too surprised to find me there.

"Aspen called," he said. "Kansas is getting ready. We would have met you at the hospital."

"I didn't come here to pick you up," I said. "There's... there's something I need to talk to you about."

Booker took a step back, making room for me to come inside of his house. It had been furnished nicely, pictures of his life hung up on the walls. His wedding day, pictures of his son, all those birthdays and holidays. There were even pictures of me and Theo there, laughing with his family, passing lazy days at the beach. There was a picture of the three of us when we'd been kids; me, him, and Kansas. Booker with his handsome lopsided smile, Kansas with her wide grin, and me, the awkward one with the braces. God, how things had changed.

I snapped out of it. Fuck the past. The present was much more pressing.

"Look, Booker, I need to speak to you now. I don't have much time," I said, stopping him in the hallway.

"I—sure," he said, surprised.

"I-I... need..." I was choking on my words. Asking for help after six years. Six years of denying and refusing every penny offered. I'd been so sure that I'd be able to make it, that Theo and I would never need the help.

"What do you need?" Booker asked gently.

"I-I need s-sixty thousand dollars," I mumbled, my voice trembling.

"June, I can't understand you," Booker said, putting a hand on my arm. "What do you need?"

Fuck it. I had no time to waste. I couldn't let pride stop me from saving my son.

"Sixty thousand dollars," I said as firmly as I could manage.

"You need what?" A voice asked from down the hall. We both looked over. Kansas was standing there with a hairbrush in her hand, halfway done with brushing her long blonde hair.

My mouth went dry. I could feel my blood pumping in my veins, my heart rate spiking. Suddenly it was becoming hard to breathe. I was panicking. How the hell was I going to ask for sixty grand without giving away what Booker and I had done? I had, for six long years, carried this guilt... and despite it, despite all the pain and the secrets, today I couldn't find it in me to carry that guilt for a second longer. I needed to save my son. Nothing else mattered.

"I need sixty thousand dollars," I said.

"Sixty thousand?" Kansas repeated in disbelief.

I couldn't even answer her. All I could do was nod. I was aware of how big of a favor this was.

"Why don't we take a moment to talk about this?" Kansas asked, looking sympathetic but confused.

"I don't have a moment!"

"Juno, calm down," Kansas said. "Why do you need sixty thousand dollars?"

"To save my son's life. You told me once, remember? You said if you had a spare heart lying around you'd give it to Theo? Well, now there's a spare heart, and I need you to help me give it to him."

"We don't have much more to give... We desperately want to help but... sixty grand?" Kansas said, looking shocked. "That's... we can swing maybe twenty, thirty?"

"Sixty, Kansas. I need sixty grand or my son is going to die."

"What about... look, I know you hate talking about him but... it's an emergency, Juno. What about his father?"

"I... his father..." I couldn't finish the sentence. I didn't know how to. In six years, I hadn't asked Booker for a damn thing. Diapers, bottles, formula, clothes, food, rent... Nothing. Not a dime, not a cent.

"Theo's father, honey?" Kansas pressed.

Booker was looking at me with pain in his eyes.

"His father..." I tried again, but I couldn't do it, no matter how hard I tried.

"We'll help you," Kansas said kindly. "We'll find his father. We just need his name."

"I can't."

"You just said it yourself, if you don't get sixty grand, Theo's going to... he's not going to be okay," Kansas said, looking a little flustered but hopeful. "Just tell me who his father is."

"Kansas, I can't."

"Don't give me that. I know you know," Kansas said. "Don't punish your son out of pride."

"Fuck you," I hissed. "How dare you—"

"You're going to let your son suffer because of your pride?" Kansas asked, judgment written all over her pretty fucking face.

"Jesus Christ, Kansas," Booker suddenly said. "It's me."

Kansas opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. She looked from Booker to me, and back to Booker again.

"What?" she said, stunned.

"I'm the father."

"What do you mean you're the father?" Kansas asked Booker, her voice very low. I'd never heard her use such a harsh tone before.

"It-It was a mistake," I whispered shakily. "It was a huge fucking mistake. It should have never happened. But I need to save him. I don't have anyone else to turn to. Please—"

"Shut up, Juno," Kansas said sharply, throwing me such a dark look that I felt a shiver go down to my core. "I need to hear this from my husband."

"I'm Theo's father," Booker said quietly. "I'm sorry, but he's mine and I won't let him die because I fucked up."

"How... How long?" Kansas asked, a single tear falling down her cheek.

"Years ago," I said.

"I said shut up, Juno!" Kansas screamed. "Just shut the fuck up!"

"It started while you were pregnant with Cade," Booker said, unable to look at her, his eyes wet. "It went on until... until Cade was about three months old."

"You bastard," Kansas spat, stalking over. She walked right up to Booker and slapped him across the face. "You absolute fucking bastard!"

My head swam. This was an argument that could be drawn out for days, weeks. I didn't even have twelve hours. I had never in my life felt as hopeless and desperate as I felt in that moment.

"Please," I pleaded, Theo's wide brown eyes flashing in my mind, helpless and afraid. "Please..."

Kansas's eyes flashed to me. "And you," she said aggressively. "You absolute fucking cunt. You pretended to be my friend all these years. I was there for you. I trusted you. I loved you. And you... how could you do this to me?"

I was crying. "Kansas, my son... please. I fucked up and I'll never forgive myself, I'll suffer for the rest of my life, but please don't punish my son because of my mistakes."

She glared at me, tears streaking down her face. If I hadn't endured my son almost dying so many times in his young life, it would have been the single most painful thing I had ever witnessed. The look on her face, twenty-five years of friendship, of sisterhood, all ruined because we'd fallen in love with the same man... all because we hadn't been able to resist him, resist the yearning in our bones. All because I was an awful, awful human being, giving into my body's desires when I should have safeguarded my heart, my poor, broken, shattered fucking heart.

"Kansas," Booker said. "We have to do something. He's my... he's my son."

"Only because I love Theo and because he did nothing to deserve you two for parents, I'll allow you to drain our savings and liquidate all our assets. I will jeopardize my son's future for yours," she said stiffly, her eyes bloodshot red. From sadness, from anger.

"But on one condition," she added, looking directly at me.

"Anything," I sobbed. "Anything."

"I want you out of my life. I never want to see you again. Don't call me, don't text me, don't write, visit—nothing. I want you..." She paused, taking a deep breath through her tears. "...I want you gone, Juno. I would rather die than see you again."

The pain was indescribable. For six years I'd endured the loneliness, had raised my son on my own, asking for no favors, no money, no support—all so I could protect her, my best friend. God, how I loved her. It wasn't until I was facing a life without her that I realized just how much. This woman had held my hand through all the roughest days of my life, and while my heart constantly recalled how Booker had been there for me, he'd always been like a quiet protector in the background. It was Kansas that had fed me love through her words; it was Kansas that had baked me cakes on every birthday, making sure that I was still celebrated even after my mother faded from depression into nothingness, cutting us all out of her life; it was Kansas that had helped me through my pregnancy, giving endless advice, holding my hand through the worst of my contractions; and it had been Kansas that had organized all of the fundraisers and drives to raise money for Theo's treatments and transplant.

Kansas, the true love of my life.

Kansas, who I had betrayed.

Kansas, who I was losing.

"Anything you want," I said, the words burning like fire between my teeth. "Anything."

"Then get out of my house. I never want to see you again," Kansas said.

Anything.

I'd do anything to save my son.

Even this.

"Anything."

And I left.

—

I was at the hospital with Theo, lying in the stretcher with him in my arms, reading to him Love You Forever by Robert Munsch. I stroked my son's hair back from his temples with one hand, and held the book with the other, softly singing the song in the book to put him to sleep.

"I'll love you forever

I'll like you for always

As long as I'm living

My baby you'll be."

The next morning, the nurses woke me to take Theo's vitals. I looked around the room, groggy, and found a sleeping figure on a chair in the corner of the room.

It was Booker.

I got up and gently tapped his shoe with mine, waking him up.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

Booker shot me a look. "First, Theo is my son too; and second, I came to deliver this," he said, pulling out a folded check from his breast pocket. I opened it. Just over sixty thousand dollars. It was right there, all of it. It was the physical proof that my son would have a new heart beating in his chest by evening.

"Th-Thank you," I said, turning around so he wouldn't see me cry. Theo was waking, and I quickly swiped the tears away from the corners of my eyes, sniffling.

"Good morning, baby," I said, watching as his nurse took his vitals.

"Good morning, Mommy," he said and peered over my shoulder. "Uncle Bookie!"

"Hey, buddy," Booker said, putting on a pained smile. "How's my little guy?"

"I'm okay," Theo said, smiling his lopsided smile. "And I'm hungry."

"No food or drink until after surgery," the nurse said.

"Awww," Theo pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. "But I'm hungry!"

"Not a bite. Not even a sip of water," the nurse warned, looking at me.

"After the surgery, you can have food, baby," I said. "Come on, let your nurse take your vitals."

After half an hour, Dr. Spenrath and the attending surgeon, Dr. Kuznecov, came by to make their morning rounds. They checked the chart, and Dr. Spenrath tickled Theo's toes and made him laugh while Dr. Kuznecov talked to me and Booker, explaining the surgery in detail. It scared the shit out of me, knowing that for a few minutes, my son's heart would be stopped to be replaced. How the fuck did modern medicine manage to make these miracles possible?

"If you'd like to join us, Kaya, the donor, will be taken to the OR in a few minutes. We will be performing an Honor Walk, which is a ceremonial event to commemorate a patient prior to organ donation. This will take place as the patient is transported to the operating room prior to organ procurement. We usually encourage families to join us, if they are in the same hospital."

I had heard of this practice. After spending six months in the hospital during the first few months of Theo's life, I was familiar with and had participated in many Honor Walks.

When it was time, a nurse came and retrieved us. The nurse discontinued the IV from the line and pulled off all the tabs that monitored Theo's heart to free him so he could come participate in the Honor Walk. Booker lifted him into his arms and carried him, passing on a nurse's offer to bring a wheelchair. We waited patiently in the hall, the elevators to the OR just a few feet away from us.

From the distance, we heard it. The preaching of a religious man, talking about Jesus and God, of heaven and a beautiful afterlife, of sacrifice and new life. He came with Kaya's mother, father, and many other members of her family. Her mother was holding her hand, and a doctor was using manual ventilation to keep Kaya breathing; they'd already taken her off life support.

Tears sprang to my eyes, a sob clawing up my throat, but I held it in. Others could not, and did not. The weeping was all that could be heard. The hospital staff was quiet, some wiping their eyes, others standing patiently and calmly to pay their respects. When Kaya passed us in the hall, Booker reached out and put a hand on my shoulder to comfort me. I didn't shake it off, although my first instinct had been to do just that.

I needed the comfort. I needed to feel something real, something tangible.

Kaya was so small, smaller than I'd been expecting. At twelve years old, she couldn't have been much bigger than Theo who was half her age. It was heartbreaking. Her growth must have been stunted from months or years in the hospital. When the stretcher came to stop in front of the OR elevators, her mother sobbed over her body. The preacher continued to pray.

"Lord, we thank You for the time that we had with Kaya and for the blessings she brought into the lives of her family and those that knew her. As You sent Your only Son so that our sins may be forgiven and we might have eternal life, we are also grateful to Kaya and her parents for their gift which will allow others to live and enjoy life. We ask that You grant Patricia and Charles and the rest of Kaya's family strength and consolation during this time and that You welcome Kaya into Your holy kingdom. Amen."

Kaya's mother was inconsolable, crying into her husband's shoulder as Kaya was finally taken away. We all watched as the elevator dinged and the doors opened. One last look at the little girl who was saving my son's life.

Thank you for your sacrifice, Kaya.

And then she was gone, and it was over. Hospital staff dispersed, and the family slowly began to leave. Booker went and stopped the parents, Theo still in his arms.

"Hi, my name is Booker. This is Theo," he said. "Theo will be receiving your daughter's heart. We just wanted to tell you how thankful we are for your family's sacrifice."

The mother wiped her tears, sniffling. "Th-Theo," she said, giving him a watery smile. "You are so very welcome, honey."

"How old are you, young man?" Kaya's father asked.

"Seven," Theo said, smiling kindly at them. My heart swelled with pride. I'd raised such a sweet, sweet boy.

"Oh, seven," the mother said, her pain temporarily put aside. "You will have so many beautiful years because of Kaya."

"My mom told me that I would get my heart from an angel," Theo said. "I'm glad I got to see my angel."

There wasn't a dry eye in that hospital hallway.

—

Waiting was the worst part. Eight hours. Eight fucking hours they kept my baby in that OR. I didn't want to think about what they were doing to him, didn't want to think about how he looked in there with his chest cracked open for the doctors and nurses to see.

Aspen and Jamie came, and eventually, to my surprise, Kansas showed up, holding Cade's hand as she entered the waiting room. She sat far away from us, in the back, and I could tell that she didn't wish to speak to any of us. I respected her wishes and left her alone.

Eventually Cade wandered over to sit with us. I hugged him, knowing that this could very well be the last time I would ever see him again. My eyes brimmed with tears. I remembered that baby with the honeyed eyes, looking up at me with such vulnerability, completely powerless and dependent on me and his parents to look after him. I hadn't felt love like that before; it had been my first chance to love a baby. I hadn't been prepared for it, hadn't known just how intense those feelings would be.

I loved Cade like he was my own. Losing Kansas meant that I'd lose Cade. It was painful, so fucking painful that I had to grit my teeth to keep from crying.

"I love you so much," I told him. "Please never, ever forget that."

"I won't," he promised, looking solemn. He probably knew he wouldn't be seeing me again either. We settled down on chairs next to each other, and I kept an arm around him, holding him close. I feared many times that Kansas would come take him away, but she didn't. She let me have this moment with Cade. I would be forever grateful to her for that time with the boy who gave me a glimpse of what it would be like to be a mother.

When the doctors came to greet us, they looked exhausted. Eight hours on their feet, working diligently to save my son's life. I owed so much to these people. Dr. Spenrath told us how well Theo had done, and how the anesthesia was slowly beginning to wear off; soon, he would be able to breathe on his own again.

"I'm optimistic that the heart will serve Theo well," Dr. Kuznekov said. "It's a strong heart, and you have one very strong boy."

Everyone in the waiting room clapped, giving the doctors a round of applause. I almost couldn't believe that it was over.

It was over.

—

Six Years Later

—

I finished my shift at seven in the evening. As a psychiatric nurse working in the psychiatric ward of a big hospital, I was no stranger to Barbaras. While I never saw my original Barbara again, I did meet many like her over the years. Each stayed with me, taking a little piece of my heart with them when they were discharged. I carried on being the understanding nurse, doing my best to calm my patients and keep them happy. These moments were what kept me going, masking all of my loneliness, masking all of my sadness.