“I know the drill better than I wish I did.”
Rebecca swallowed.
“Oh.”
“What type is Lily?”
“O.”
“Harder.”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
Again that word.
Rebecca became irritated.
“You keep saying okay.”
“Because I’m listening.”
“I don’t know what you expect to do.”
“Find out who fits.”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
“Raymond.”
“Bear.”
“What?”
“Everybody calls me Bear.”
“I’m not calling you Bear.”
“Fair.”
Despite herself, Rebecca almost smiled.
He continued.
“How many volunteers can the hospital process?”
“What?”
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
“Find out.”
“You can’t just bring people into a hospital demanding tests.”
“Wasn’t planning on demanding.”
“What are you planning?”
A pause.
“Showing up.”
Rebecca sat straighter.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Lily is sick.”
“I gathered.”
“I don't want motorcycles outside her window.”
“Fair.”
“I don't want cameras.”
“Fair.”
“I don't want some charity spectacle.”
“Neither do I.”
“I don’t want her turned into a club project.”
Raymond was silent for several seconds.
Then:
“Rebecca.”
“Yes?”
“I loved Eli.”
Her throat tightened.
“He once drove three hundred miles because my daughter’s car broke down and I was stuck at sea.”
Rebecca stared.
“He never told me.”
“He did that kind of thing without telling anybody.”
“Yes.”
“He made me promise after he died that if your family ever needed us, we didn't disappear.”
“He made that promise?”
“Not exactly.”
Raymond’s voice softened.
“Last week he was alive, he told me, ‘If anything happens to me, don’t let Becca think she lost all of us too.’”
Rebecca stopped breathing.
She had never known.
Raymond continued.
“We should’ve called years ago.”
“We didn't.”
“That's on us.”
“But we’re here now.”
Rebecca covered her eyes.
“Raymond…”
“How many volunteers?”
“I don't know.”
“Ask.”
“What if none of you match?”
“Then none match.”
“What if you drive here and it’s pointless?”
“Then we drive home.”
“You say that like nothing.”
“It’s gas.”
Rebecca started crying again.
Raymond pretended not to notice.
“We’ll wait for instructions.”
“No cameras.”
“No cameras.”
“No press.”
“No press.”