His Perfect Match. Elaine Overton

knees. And Liz spent every treatment holding his hand and praying that God would somehow transfer the pain into her body instead of his.

      As she approached the end of the hall she passed through a set of double doors leading to the intensive care unit. She paused at the last room and lifted her hand to knock on the open door announcing herself, but the scene that greeted her caused her to pause.

      In the bed lay a girl not much older than Marc whose kidney’s had completely failed. The only thing standing between the child and death were the various machines that did the work her failing body could not. The mother sat in a chair, her head resting on the side of the bed, and across the room the father and older sister stood looking out the window. No one noticed her standing in the door. They were all distracted by their own fears and concern. They were on a death watch.

      Liz turned and quietly walked away without them ever knowing she’d been there. She had met the family through her juvenile diabetes support group, and knew of their daughter’s recent change in condition. She’d wanted to offer some words of encouragement. To tell them it would be all right. But she knew in her heart it would not be. Their child was dying and there was nothing they could do about it.

      There but for the grace of God go I. Liz felt a chill run down her spine as she approached the elevators once more. So far the dialysis treatments were working for Marc, but she knew all too well how quickly that could change.

      Of course he was on the waiting list for a match, but so were thousands of others, many of whom had more common blood types than Marc’s rare AB negative. They really only had one hope, one prayer and no idea of how or even if it would be answered.

      As she stepped off the elevators on the ground level there were Marc and Dee on the other side of the large open entry in front of the glass revolving doors talking to Pete the security guard.

      Even from across the lobby Liz could see Marc’s wide smile as he chatted happily and knew he was bragging about his recent chess win against her.

      She smiled to herself, remembering Marc’s laughter when he realized he’d won. Her only child was spoiled rotten, a poor loser, and she adored every inch of him. He was the sun in the sky, the axis of her world—and he knew it.

      In her most ridiculous moments she wondered if maybe she loved him too much. She could not even imagine a world in which he did not exist and yet, thanks to his disease, such a world was a real possibility. She shook her head to remove the morbid thoughts.

      “Hey, sexy lady,” Pete said as she approached, and grinned, revealing several gaping holes between his teeth. He has as many teeth missing as he has in his mouth, Liz thought, but she would never say it aloud.

      For all his useless flirting, Pete Daniels was a good guy and she would never intentionally hurt his feelings. Which is why she put up with his insistent come ons. They both knew he didn’t stand a chance in hell, and yet he didn’t let reality slow him down a bit.

      “Hey, Pete, how are you?”

      “Better now that I’ve seen you.” He winked.

      “I was just telling Pete about our game,” Marc said with a smug smile.

      “I bet you were,” Liz answered.

      Pete chuckled. “I’m surprised I didn’t hear his crowing all the way down here.”

      She smiled, remembering she wasn’t the only one who’d lost more than one game of chess to Marc. She and Marc had been forced to spend the Fourth of July weekend in the hospital, and Pete and his girlfriend Sal had smuggled in a holiday feast.

      They’d spent the afternoon tearing through ribs, potato salad and corn on the cob, followed up by one of the best peach cobblers she’d ever tasted. The couple claimed it was their planned dinner and they were just sharing it with them. But the bland taste of the food immediately told Liz that Sal had cooked the meal just for Marc using very little salt and seasoning.

      Realizing the time, Liz asked, “You’re here kinda late, aren’t you?”

      Pete shrugged. “Yeah, pulling a double. My old lady is on the warpath about my spending habits, so I thought it best to stay out of sight until she cools down. Know what I mean?”

      Dee tilted her head to the side with a frown. “What did you do this time?”

      “What?” He shrugged again. “A man’s gotta have his fun.”

      Liz knew from experience that Pete’s idea of fun was spending half his check on lottery tickets. “How much, Pete?”

      His eyes widened. “Damn. We’ve known each other too long.”

      “How much?”

      He shrugged again. “Three-fifty.”

      Now Liz’s eyes widened. “Three hundred and fifty dollars?!”

      His lips twisted in a smirk. “Three fifty-four if you want to be exact.”

      She shook her head, and in a rash moment of generosity made an offer. “I’ll lend you the money so you can go home, but this will have to be the last time.”

      Dee shot her a strange look, but said nothing.

      He held up his hands. “No, no, I can’t take any money from you.” He shook his head insistently.

      “It’s just a loan.”

      “No way.” He leaned across and placed his hand on Marc’s shoulder. “Look, you got real problems—and you need your money. No way could I take money from you. I wouldn’t even be able to sleep at night.”

      Liz wanted to tell him that no amount of money could express her gratitude for his friendship and support over the years. Because of her frugal spending habits, the help from Aunt Dee and the medical benefits of her long-term substitute teaching job, Marc’s medical expenses were mostly taken care of. But how did she say thank you for all the times Pete used his breaks to make special trips to the floor to tease and entertain the sick children there? Or the comic books he provided the unit faithfully from his own small paycheck? Those were just a few of the small things this man had done for them with no expectation of return and for that much kindness she would pay anything.

      But Liz could tell by the determined glint of his eyes that this particular discussion was closed. And secretly she was glad for it. Although she would’ve given him the money, she really had none to spare.

      Still she asked, “Are you sure?”

      “Absolutely. Sal will cool off after a day or two.”

      “Or three,” Dee said with a smirk.

      Pete grinned, exposing his gaps. “Whenever, and then I’ll be back in like Flynn. You’ll see.”

      With a shake of her head, Liz turned to her family. “Did you guys forget it’s wrestling night?” That reminder was all it took to get their little group headed toward the glass doors.

      “See ya next time, Pete!” Marc waved as he headed out the door.

      “All right, little man, and next time I want a rematch.”

      As Liz approached the valet station and offered the ticket, her cell phone rang. With the city noises surrounding them, Liz covered one ear to better hear the caller. “Hello?”

      “Ms. Donovan? This is Scott Banton.”

      Liz felt her heart skip a beat, and moved a few feet away from Dee and Marc. She swallowed hard. “Any news?”

      Liz watched the driver pull her small sedan to the door, but even as her family climbed inside she stood frozen to her spot while soft white flakes fell around her. She was totally oblivious to the snow, as well as to the people moving around her as they entered and exited the hospital, going about their lives. She stood motionless as the winter cold filtered its way into her down coat.

      She was waiting for the world to change. Waiting for a miracle to be offered. Waiting for the private detective