Sing

CHAPTER 23.

MONICA

Jonathan was out of his room. More tests, more prep. More shit piled on top of shit. A hundred thousand checklists to make sure he was worthy of whatever heart came in. Of course it came to me when my mother texted me the address to send the rent check. I quick internet search revealed J. Declan Drazen owned ODRSN Partners.

Anger and gratitude swirled together like a marble cake.

Dr. Thorensen was in his office looking at four computer screens.

“Monica. Come in.” He stood. “Close the door.”

“Thanks. I got your text, but I was driving.”

“Sit.”

He stood in front of a little counter with a sink and poured water into a pot, leaving his screens unattended.

“You’re playing City of Dis aren’t you? Where do you find the time?”

“This job doesn’t afford the time for a dazzling social life so, video games it is. And I have UNOS up on a screen right here.” As if responding to what must have been a baffled look, he continued. “The transplant list.”

“Ah. I heard someone came in...” I didn’t know if I should continue. This was surely privileged information, yet once I started talking I could hardly stop. “He’s brain dead is what I heard. I don’t mean to be creepy, but—”

“I think that’s going to be a no-go.”

“You telling me more or Jonathan getting the heart?”

“Yes.”

I looked into my lap. Margie’s text had given me enough hope to get in the door, and when it dropped out of me, there was nothing to replace it. We were back where we were this morning, only I was one day closer to the end.

“How are you holding up?” Brad asked.

I shrugged. “I guess I’m all right.”

“You’re never home.”

“Doctor, my presence at home is hardly under your purview.”

“I’m not asking as a doctor. I’m asking as your friend. How are you doing?”

“Fine. I feel like I’m waiting for him to either die or be saved, so the regular events of my life aren’t so interesting right now.”

He leaned back in his chair, eyes glowing in the screen’s light. “I’ve lived next door to you for a couple of years.”

“Three, I think.”

“I wish I’d gone to your door with something besides the leaves falling on the car, or the new fence. I should have known you better, sooner.”

His hands were folded over his tie, and his feet pushed his office chair back until the corners of his white lab coat dragged on the floor. Besides the hands, it was an exposed position, and even if he didn’t intend consciously to send the message he did, I understood the meaning in his heart.

“I’m too upset to give you a thoughtful response. I’m sorry.”

“I understand. If you want to go up, he should be back any minute, I think. Irene’s at the desk. Check with her if he’s ok to see. I’m watching this screen.”

I stood up and touched the doorknob. “I’d give him my own heart if I could.”

He sat up straight and put his hand on the mouse. “I hear that all the time.” He glanced up at me, his expression sucking the sarcasm out of the comment. He was just stating the fact. This was hard, and people loved one another.