“You said he made Grandma swear.”
“That is different.”
Raymond smiled.
“He was trouble.”
Lily looked pleased.
“Why are you here?”
The room changed.
Rebecca inhaled.
Raymond glanced at her.
She nodded.
He stepped closer but remained beside foot of bed.
“We heard you need some help.”
“With my kidneys?”
“Yes.”
“You have one?”
Raymond laughed softly.
“Two.”
“Can I have one?”
Rebecca’s eyes closed.
Raymond’s face broke.
He recovered.
“Maybe.”
Lily looked confused.
“Why maybe?”
“Doctors have to make sure mine would work for you.”
“Does it hurt?”
“The testing?”
“The kidney.”
Raymond answered honestly.
“The surgery would hurt for a while.”
“Then why do it?”
He looked at the little girl.
The obvious answer was because you need it.
But he sensed that was not what she asked.
“Because sometimes you have something another person needs more than you need to keep both.”
Lily thought.
“Like sharing fries?”
Raymond smiled.
“Much more paperwork.”
She laughed.
Rebecca turned toward window because tears had returned.
Raymond spent seven minutes in the room.
Before leaving, Lily held out her hand.
He stopped.
Then offered one huge finger.
She wrapped her hand around it.
“Good luck with your kidney.”
Raymond’s throat moved.
“You too, kid.”
The testing took days.
Then weeks.
Raymond’s blood type was compatible.
The first crossmatch was encouraging.
His kidney function looked excellent for his age.
But living donor evaluation was deliberately thorough.
Cardiac testing.
Imaging.
Psychological assessment.
Independent donor advocate.
Family discussions.
Rebecca had no access to all results.
That was correct.
She still hated waiting.
Raymond kept coming.
Not every day.
Sometimes alone.
Sometimes one club member.
He learned Lily liked crossword puzzles but cheated by asking nurses.
He brought a puzzle book and blacked out the answer pages.
She called him evil.
He accepted.
The club quietly organized blood drives.
Not for Lily specifically.
The hospital needed blood.
They paid Rebecca’s overdue electric bill once without permission.
She found out.
Called Raymond furious.
He denied involvement so badly she knew instantly.
“Pay me back.”
“No.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“I did not ask.”
“No.”
“That matters.”
Raymond became quiet.