His Perfect Match

“Meaning, if your Xbox 360 ever goes missing—” Liz widened her eyes in a poor attempt to look innocent “—I don’t know what happened to it.”

“You wouldn’t.”

He looked so stricken Liz reached across the board and hugged him. “Of course not, I just wanted to bring you down a peg or two.” She leaned back and looked at him. “Did it work?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” She stood up beside the bed. “You need to know that in the chess game of life…Mom always wins.”

“That’s because she cheats.”

Just then a nurse appeared in the doorway. “Okay, Marc, the doctor’s released you. See you Thursday,” she said as she removed the needle from his arm and pushed the dialysis machine aside.

“Thanks!” With a leap Marc was out of bed and headed across the room to the chair that held his shoes and coat.

“Slow down, tiger.” Liz rushed over to help him into his coat, ever mindful of his thin arms that she knew were sore where the needles for his dialysis were inserted twice a week, leaving them visibly bruised.

Marc crawled into the chair and waited patiently while his mother tied his sneakers. “Can we play in the snow when we get home?”

Liz’s eyes widened as she glanced up at her aunt who only shook her head in response. Given the draining procedure he’d just endured Liz could not imagine where he got the energy to want to play in the snow.

“Not today, sweetie.” She stood and pulled on her heavy winter coat. “How about we rent a movie on the way home, instead?”

“No way,” he called over his shoulder already headed for the doorway. “Tonight’s wrestling night, right, Aunt Dee?”

“You got that right,” Dee agreed, as the trio headed for the elevators.

“Alright, Aunt Dee, I’ll meet you downstairs.” Liz glanced down an adjoining hall.

She turned and headed down the hall, pulling on her winter knit cap as she spoke to the nurses she passed in the hall, realizing she knew them all by name. And why wouldn’t she, considering how much time Marc spent in this ward?

Her bright, beautiful boy had spent over half his short life in and out of hospitals, and yet he managed to remain upbeat and optimistic. Most of the time. Sometimes the pain from the dialysis needles was so intense, even the most spirited people were brought to their 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.”