Juice: The O'Malleys Book 1, contemporary Adult Romance (3 page)

Rory sat at the edge of the bed and took her hand. He tried to blink back the tears that were threatening to rise to the surface.

“You’re precious to me Aoife. I can’t bear to see you like this.”

“Ah you O’Malley men, you’re all the same ya know. If you can’t fix it with your millions you lose the run of yourself. Some things can’t be bought, Rory. Some things are just meant to be. I’m dying Ror, I can’t fight for much longer. It’s too hard.”

Rory put his face close to hers and looked into her eyes. She looked so fragile to him, her cheekbones more pronounced, her blue eyes huge and glassy.

“You
can
fight, Aoife. You have to keep on fighting.”

“Calm down, you big eejit. Rory, you are clever enough to know that even you can’t stop the waves from crashing on the shore. Some things are bigger than all of us. A perfect storm Rory. That’s what I need. The right lungs with the right blood type, a perfect match. And I need it soon. I’ve been on the waiting list for two years; it would be a miracle if it happened now. Somewhere out there are the perfect lungs made just for me. But I can’t lie here and wish that person harm in order for it to happen. How shit is that, Rory? I need for them to fail at their life in order for me succeed in mine.” She lay back on the bed holding the oxygen mask close to her face. Spent, from even the most minor exertion. Rory jumped from the bed and looked down at her, his face pained and angry.

“No! No, Aoife. We’re not in control of what happens to other people. We wish harm on no one.” She pulled of the mask and patted the bed beside her.

“Sit down ya big dope! Read me a story Ror. Make me forget for a while. That one.” She pointed to the old and worn book on the bed side locker. Rory picked up the book and gently touched its much-loved cover.

“Oh Steinbeck, is it? It was far from Mister John Steinbeck you were reared, Aoife O’Malley.”

“It’s one of daddy’s books; you know how he loves his American classics.”

His heart clenched when Aoife gave him a big smile, he noticed her lips were developing a bluish tinge of late.

“He writes beautifully Rory and from the heart, where it should always come from. Come now, start on page ninety two.”

She put her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes. Rory’s smile slipped from his face. He wanted to punch the wall and lie on the floor kicking and screaming. This was life at its most unfair, its most brutal and he hated it. He breathed out a silent sigh and began to read.

Cass closed the book and smiled at Harry. Dropping the book on her lap she slapped her hands on the cover.

“Well, you were right, even though I’m obviously loathe to admit it. That really was a beautiful story Harry. I can see why you’re such a fan. And of course I am so delighted to see you profess your love for Carmen Electra’s boobs. All over the back page too. Classy. I didn’t realise big boobs did it for you Harry. You really are a bit of a dark horse. I guess it does explain why you and Mark christened me Cass-tiny-tits for the first three of my teenage years. Cheers for that by the way. I don’t think I ever thanked you properly for that psychologically damaging episode.”

She laughed quietly to herself and laid the worn and much loved copy of ‘East of Eden’ by John Steinbeck on the bedside table. She rubbed Harry’s hands gently with a wet wipe and took in every line and indentation of his palm. She wanted to remember every bit of him; even now she was afraid that her memories of Harry would fade in time.
No!
She told herself crossly
. I’ll never forget
.
I’ll never forget one inch of this beautiful boy
. Her heart ached inside her chest.

Today was the day. The day Harry would die. Cass couldn’t even fully process the thought of it, so alien it was that they should know the date of his death in advance. Most of us have no clue when we will die. It isn’t something that is preordained.

It can happen so suddenly, so unexpectedly. One random day when you’ve left the washing up in the sink. Or thrown your knickers carelessly on the floor, never thinking for a moment that someone else will have to clear them away. People leaving their homes in the morning never realising that they will never step through their front doors again.

Or else death comes slowly in the shape of an illness, still without adequate warning. Death, working hard to drag the last few remaining breaths from the living until the person is no more than the beginning of a memory. But, Harry’s day would always be April twenty third. His new special day. Two weeks to the day of the accident that had changed all their lives forever. The stream of visitors had stopped at her mother’s request, they needed this time. Just for the three of them. To say goodbye to him and to let him go. They knew after the first day that there was no hope to be had. The doctor had come into the waiting room, solemn-faced and apologetic. “A massive brain injury,” he had said. “No hope of recovery I’m afraid, brain dead.” Harry as they knew him was gone. Already drifting off somewhere else. His soul waiting to fly off into the ether.
And had they thought about organ donation?
A team could talk to them, he had said. If they so wished. Her parents hadn’t been sure and looked to her for reassurance.  Cass had remembered their first term in college, they had all signed up for a donor cards at Harry’s insistence. She had been so proud of him then. Her Harry, always the first to offer himself to any of the many causes he believed in. And they had all signed up, all followed his lead as was normal for their little group. Without him they would be lost.

She had spoken to her parents about it and they had decided between them that honouring his final wish, was the only way in which to validate his life properly.

And that had brought them here. To this date, to April twenty third. Harry’s death date, his last day on earth.

“Hey you.”

Cass felt the trembling hands of her mother on her shoulders as she sat lost in her own thoughts. She still held the book fiercely and hugged it to her chest.

“So you finally finished the story.”

“Yeah, all done. What time-? What time are they coming for him?”

“Soon. Just after three. We have an hour or so to say our goodbyes, Cass. Do you want to go last? I thought you might want to be the last one to see him. Since you were the first to see him too, in a way.”

Cass stood and embraced her mother. She was so touched and so grateful for her mother’s constant kindness and selfless concern for her. Especially when she knew her parents own hearts were broken too.

“Thank you, thank you, mum. It still doesn’t feel real, even now. He’s lying here as though he is just sleeping so warm and so alive.” Her mother nodded at her, her face older looking than before and her voice croaky and tired. Cass looked at the lines around her mother’s eyes. They appeared more pronounced, like pages of thin delicate paper, folded and refolded. The most beautiful and intricate origami telling a lifetime of joy and hurt. Cass saw herself in her mother’s eyes, the same soft green eyes and the same broken emptiness within them.

“Remember it’s just his body Cass. The Harry we knew has already gone. His beautiful soul is just waiting to be let go, waiting to pass on. And we owe him that Cassidy. The opportunity to fly free.”

She heard her mother sigh and felt the warm breath touching the back of her neck. Cass was comforted by it, the feel of it evoking a near forgotten memory from her childhood. Feeling safe in her mother's arms in the sitting room in their old house. The glow from the open fire making her sleepy and her mother's sweet soft breath caressing her face as she sung Harry and Cass a lullaby. She squeezed her eyes shut, unshed tears pricked the backs of her eyelids making them sting. They felt gritty and sore and she was suddenly so aware of each part of her own body. Her throat felt raw and tight, her limbs were so tired that it hurt to lift them. She looked around the hospital room that had become so familiar to them all over the last two weeks. She committed each inch of the room to memory taking mental snapshots, each one a piece of a puzzle that was almost completed.

Cass stood and offered her mum the chair nearest to Harry’s bed. She kissed her on the top of her head and made her way to the door.

“I’ll leave you to it, mum.”

“Thanks honey. Send your dad in to me.”

Cass waited in the corridor as her parents tearfully said their last private words to their much loved son. She dug her nails into her palm imaging what it was like for them inside the room. It was useless to imagine, to try and take on their pain. She could barely reconcile her own heart to the loss.

And then it was her turn. It was her time. Time to say goodbye to the other half of herself. It frightened her so much that he was making this last journey alone. Most people come into the world alone and leave it the same way. But twins are different. From the beginning Cassidy and Harry had one another. They had held each other’s hands inside the womb, growing and sharing the same space and adapting to each other. Now Harry was leaving this earth on his own. Making his last lonely journey to whatever lay beyond. Cass was frightened for him and angry with him too. So angry with him for leaving her to face the world, alone.

It was Rory who found his dad sobbing at the kitchen table. It was Rory who told the rest of the family the news and it was Rory who told Aoife.

They had a match.

The double lung transplant was going ahead. His father had cried for an hour straight, while his mother and the rest of them had sat at the table and stared into the distance in silence. Each of them locked in their own thoughts. Hardly daring to get their hopes up and think of a future with Aoife in it.

April twenty third. The day their lives would change forever.

Aoife, put her hand on Rory’s shoulder and laid her head on her brother Rian’s broad chest. Rian rubbed her hair softly as she spoke.

“It might not take lads. Best not to get everyone’s hopes up, ya know? There are loads of tests to be done and my body might reject the new lungs.” Rory took her face in his hands.

“It’ll take Aoife. I promise you. It’ll take. You will be home here in three weeks with your lovely new lungs. You will take a breath of the fine clear fresh air here on Cherry tree farm and you will feel better than you have ever felt before. I feel it in here.” He thumped his fist against his heart.

Aoife smiled at him and pinched his arm gently. “Ah Rory, ever the optimist. Right lads, we have to get ready. Rian, my hospital bag is in the cupboard under the stairs, will you get it for me? It’s a two and a half hour drive to Dublin; we need to leave in the next half an hour.”