Keep Me in Your Heart (5 page)

His father must have sensed Jeremy’s hesitation to leave because he pushed back from his desk and gestured toward the couch. “Sit down and visit.”

“I don’t want to interrupt.”

“You’re my son. It’s not an interruption.”

Jeremy settled on the leather couch, stretching out his long legs and clasping his hands behind his head.

“How’s Jessica?”

Briefly Jeremy discussed her problems and her hope of a transplant and finished by saying, “I’m sure she’d have a transplant if there were a donor available.”

“Makes sense to me. She’s so young; it seems
a shame to commit her to a lifetime of dialysis when a transplant could set her free.”

Jeremy appreciated his father’s sympathetic tone, for although he didn’t hassle him, Jeremy knew his father wasn’t thrilled about the amount of time he spent with Jessica. “I’d sure like to see her get one hundred percent again,” said Jeremy. “I miss doing things with her. I don’t like that her kidney disease takes up so much of our time together. That sounds selfish, doesn’t it?”

“No. When you care about somebody, you want the best for them.”

“I really like her, you know.” Jeremy wanted to say he loved her, but felt the word might be too strong and put his father off.

“I know. She’s a lovely girl.”

“You and Mom approve of her?”

His father looked puzzled. “Sure. When I look around and see what some kids bring home—friends with blue hair, earrings in their noses, studded leather clothes—yes, I think Jessica is a fine choice.”

Jeremy grinned, warming to his father’s affable mood. “Then I guess I shouldn’t ask to get my belly button pierced.”

His father grimaced. “Just thinking about it makes me cringe.”

“Didn’t you ever do something that went against the mainstream when you were growing up?”

“Are you kidding? In law school I had hair down to my shoulders.”

“No lie?” Jeremy couldn’t imagine his father’s close-cropped brown hair so long.

“And I once organized a revolt against the curfew in the dorms. A group of us camped out in front of the dean’s office door for a week. We were loud, smelly and obnoxious. We really disrupted his life—all campus life, in fact. The campus newspaper and local TV station covered our cause and turned us into minicelebrities.”

“Did you win?”

“ ’Course not. My father called and told me if I didn’t straighten out, he’d cut off my funds and I’d have to drop out of law school.”

“And you gave in?” Jeremy felt a twinge of disappointment.

“I had always believed that the ends justified the means, but a person has to know when to
cut his losses and bow out gracefully. Besides, I wanted that law degree.”

“Does Mom know you had this wild side?”

“Who do you think brought us our meals during our sit-in?”

Jeremy laughed aloud over the image of his very proper parents acting totally antisocial. “Did it blow over?”

“Actually, the university pressed charges and I had to be my own defense attorney.”

“You could do that before you became a lawyer?”

“Sure. The courts allow senior law students to take on cases if the student practices under the supervision of a law professor.”

Jeremy leaned forward, eager to hear the outcome of his father’s story. “So what happened when you went to court?”

“I did a good enough job to get us all off with a fine and community service. We could have been expelled.”

“And you like practicing law, don’t you?”

“I always have. Discovering the weakness in my opponent’s case, outsmarting my opponent, winning—it still gives me a rush.” His father
leaned back in his swivel chair. “You think you might be interested in law?”

“I’m not sure.”

His father picked up a pencil and tapped it on the arm of the chair. “Listen, I was going to ask this later, but now seems like a good time. How’d you like to be a clerk at the firm this summer? Pay’s above minimum wage and the work’s interesting.”

Jeremy immediately thought about his time with Jessica. “I told Jessica’s parents I’d help drive her to dialysis. And … and I want to spend as much time as I can with her.”

“We can work around your schedule.”

“We could?”

“Sure. It would beat slinging hamburgers.”

Jeremy agreed. His brother, Tom, had spent many summers working in fast-food restaurants, but had counseled the younger Jeremy, “You’ve got a great brain, kid. Use it for something besides burger duty.”

“I’ll think about it.”

His father nodded, then turned to the pile of work on his desk. “Much as I hate to cut you off …”

“No problem.” Jeremy shot to his feet. “I’m tired anyway.” In truth, he was wide awake. This was the best conversation he’d had with his father in months. For once they hadn’t argued with each other. At the door, Jeremy paused. One other topic had been weighing on his mind. He decided to broach it, even if it spoiled the tenuous bond he and his father had just created. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What do you think about people donating their organs?”

“It’s a good idea. I mean, if a person’s brain-dead, there’s no reason for perfectly good organs to go into the ground when they could help somebody live. I see that very clearly now, especially in light of what’s happening to Jessica.”

Serious, Jeremy nodded and took a deep breath. “When Tom and I had the accident, were you and Mom asked to donate his organs?”

The air in the room grew perfectly still, and for a moment Jeremy regretted opening up the wound of his brother’s untimely death. But his
father only shrugged. “If we’d been asked, we might have. But there was so much damage to his body, I guess there was no need to ask.”

Jeremy felt coldness creep over him. He had been removed by ambulance from the scene of the accident and hadn’t seen his brother in the emergency room where they’d both been taken. And at the funeral, Tom had looked normal in the casket. It hadn’t occurred to him that Tom might have suffered massive damage.
A tribute to the mortician’s art
, he thought grimly. “I miss Tom,” Jeremy said quietly.

“We all miss him,” his father added. “But life goes on.”

Jeremy turned and headed for his room.

The idea had been formulating in Jeremy’s mind for a week before he decided to take action. On a Monday afternoon during the final week of school, he called Dr. Witherspoon’s office at the medical complex where he practiced and made an appointment. Luckily the doctor had an opening, which Jeremy took as a good omen.

He made his way through the maze of hallways
and elevators, let the doctor’s nurse park him in a cubicle and was sitting on the examination table waiting when Dr. Witherspoon came into the room.

The doctor’s eyes narrowed. “Haven’t we met somewhere before?” He glanced at the chart with the information sheet Jeremy had filled out.

“I’m Jessica McMillan’s friend.”

The doctor broke into a smile. “Of course. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you at first. I didn’t know you were in need of a nephrologist too.”

“I’m not. I want to talk to you about Jessica.”

“Doctors can’t discuss their patients’ cases. The information is privileged.”

“I know, but I was hoping you could answer some questions I have about kidney transplants.”

Dr. Witherspoon pulled up a chair. “Kidney transplantation is one of the most successful organ transplants we do. And best of all, a person can get along just fine with only one working kidney. That’s what makes kidney donation so
attractive between relatives. The patient gets a kidney, the donor continues to live a full, active life. Everybody wins.”

“But what if you don’t have a good match? How successful is it then?”

“With new antirejection drugs, over eighty percent of nonrelated donor kidneys are still functioning a year later.”

Jeremy’s heart began to race, and his thoughts surged with renewed hope. “Those are good odds.”

“Yes.” Dr. Witherspoon tipped his head and regarded Jeremy with curiosity. “I assume you have a reason for all this interest in kidney transplants.”

Jeremy looked the doctor square in the eye and announced, “Dr. Witherspoon, I want to donate one of my kidneys to Jessica.”

“T
hat’s very admirable,” Dr. Witherspoon said. His tone was noncommittal, but Jeremy did not miss the keen interest in the doctor’s eyes.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Jeremy continued quickly. “You’re thinking that I’m a nutty kid with a dumb crush on a girl and that I don’t know what I’m saying. But that’s not true. I know
exactly
what I’m saying. And yes, I like Jessica a lot, and how I feel about her is important, but it’s more than that. I’ve seen Jessica change over the past months. I’ve seen how tough her life is. I know she’s got problems with dialysis. What am I supposed to do?
I can’t stand by and watch her die a little bit each day. I love her too much for that.”

Dr. Witherspoon regarded Jeremy steadily during his impassioned speech and then answered calmly, “A doctor’s first responsibility is to his patient. Frankly, there’s nothing I’d like better than to take you up on your offer. We do numerous transplants at this hospital. In fact, we’re one of the largest and best-staffed transplant centers in the country. Which is also a disadvantage because the waiting list is longer, currently up to eighteen months for a cadaver kidney. Therefore, live donors cut months, even years off the waiting process. But you’re not a relative.”

“That’s true, but don’t I have any say in who gets my kidney if I want to give it away?”

“Absolutely. The Uniform Anatomical Gift Act states that a person
can
designate an organ recipient. That’s the law.”

“Then if I want to donate a kidney and Jessica needs one and if antirejection drugs can help even if we’re not perfectly compatible, then what’s the problem?”

Dr. Witherspoon shifted in his chair. “Aside from blood-type testing—”

“I’m type O, like Jessie,” Jeremy interrupted. He’d learned his blood type at the time of the accident. Although he had not been seriously injured, the hospital had typed and cross-matched his blood type as a precautionary measure.

“There’s also HLA and MLC typing. These tests let us know if white blood cells will react against each other and whether or not antigens match. Since you’re not a relative, it’s highly unlikely your antigens will match.”

“But you said that antigens don’t always match and that you still do the transplant.”

“Yes, using live, nonrelated donors is still controversial, but it’s done. But back to you. You’d have to go through a battery of testing. First, we have to consider your general overall health.”

“It’s excellent.”

“And there’ll be psychological testing by a psychiatrist and a social worker.”

“Why? It’s
my
kidney!”

“They’ll want to be certain you’re emotionally
stable and under no undo pressure. You’re talking about giving away a part of your body, Jeremy. That’s a big decision. Especially in your case because Jessica’s not family.”

Jeremy felt frustration building. He hadn’t expected the doctor to try and talk him out of it. But he could see that Dr. Witherspoon was interested in finding an organ for Jessica; that gave him incentive to say, “I’ll go through any testing you want. I’m sure I want to do this for Jessica.”

Dr. Witherspoon contemplated Jeremy thoughtfully. The air in the examination room felt close and thick. Overhead, a fluorescent bulb hummed and flickered.

“This testing isn’t inexpensive.”

“I’m covered under medical insurance.”

“Companies don’t always pay unless the donors are related.”

That surprised Jeremy. “There’s no room for random acts of kindness?” The doctor smiled, and Jeremy waved aside the problem. “I’ll worry about the money part later.”

“There’s one other problem.” The doctor steepled his fingers and peered earnestly into Jeremy’s eyes.

“What’s that?”

“How old are you?”

“Sixteen. And a half.” Jeremy felt his determination waver. “So what?”

“Legal age for medical-consent treatment is eighteen. That means you’d have to get a signed consent form from your parents before we can take your kidney. Or for that matter, do any testing on you.”

Jeremy felt as if he’d been blindsided. He should have thought of that himself.

“Do you think they’ll give their consent?” the doctor asked.

“Probably,” Jeremy lied. “I mean they might not be for it at first, but if you’d talk to them—would you talk to them for me once I break the news?”

“Certainly.” Dr. Witherspoon grinned. “It’s not every day somebody walks into my office wanting to donate a kidney for a patient who needs one very much. No matter what comes of this, your gesture is admirable.”

“I’m not doing it to be admirable,” Jeremy said. “I’m doing it because I want to. Because I love Jessica and I want to do everything possible to help save her.”

“Well, talk to your parents and get back to me.” The doctor’s beeper went off. “I’ve got patients to look after.”

“No problem.”

Dr. Witherspoon patted Jeremy’s shoulder. “I’m in your corner. I’d like to see this work out, and I’ll do everything I can to speed up the technical end of the process, if your parents give their consent.”

Jeremy left the hospital feeling buoyed and energized. He had made it over the first hurdle. The doctor had actually listened to him, understood him and treated him as if he were a sane, rational person with a desire to help someone in need. Someone he loved.

Jeremy got in his car and started the engine. “One down, two to go,” he muttered. Jessica and her family were the next people he had to convince. He’d save his parents for last. And once they heard from Dr. Witherspoon, how could they say no to his heartfelt request? How could they possibly deny Jessica this second chance at life?

“Happy Birthday, Jessie!”

Jessica blew out the eighteen candles on the
cake her mother set in front of her, and smiled at the three people who meant the most to her in all the world—her parents and Jeremy. How different this birthday was from the one the year before. Before her kidneys had failed. “The cake’s beautiful, Mom.”