threatened to run, and a sob sat in her throat. She swallowed hard, several times.
Would Heidi be among its victims? Her twin sister? Her other half--the good half. The half she liked. The half she'd lived without for five years.
She didn't know what else to say. "Did my sister send you here to tell me?" Now that Heidi was sick, did she want to make peace? Oh, God! Hailey didn't want to think about life without her sister.
"No. She doesn't know I'm here."
"Then why--" The rest of her words were swallowed by a sob. Her muscles shuddered, and tears threatened to spring from her eyes. A lifetime of memories flashed through her mind. Birthday parties, Christmases, secrets they had shared... Heidi couldn't die!
"Heidi needs a bone marrow transplant, and you're potentially a perfect donor."
"I'd like to donate, but will she accept my help? Has she told you...we've not spoken in years." Her gaze dropped to the table, and she toyed with the tines of her fork, then the corner of her napkin. She swiped at the irritating wetness on her cheeks, forced the memories from her mind, and instead tried to focus on what she could do, rather than what might happen.
"She didn't tell me much," he said, "but she told me she wouldn't ask for your help. We tried to find another match, but we couldn't. We're running out of time. Her tissue type is quite rare, and it makes no sense to keep delaying. With each recurrence, the likelihood of a successful transplant is diminished."
"We? You said 'we tried'."
"I'm her doctor."
"I see. What do you need me to do?"
Rainer reached into his jacket pocket and drew out an envelope and laid it on the table. The word Northwest blazed in red ink across the envelope's front.
She plucked it up and read the itinerary, then looked at him in alarm. "Is this for me?"
"Yes. You need to come to Detroit immediately."
"But it says I'm leaving tomorrow."
He nodded, and for the first time since they'd met, she thought she saw a hint of compassion in his blue eyes. "I wouldn't ask if it weren't absolutely necessary. We must begin the pre-transplant chemo immediately if she's going to have a chance of living through this, and before we can do that, we have to run some tests on you to make sure you can donate."
"I understand, but I'm in the middle of negotiations I can't delegate. Can't you do the tests here?" She wanted to help Heidi. Heck, she couldn't live with herself if she didn't. But jumping on a plane tomorrow was simply not possible.
He scowled at her.
When his silent chastisement grew annoying, she said, "I want to help. She's my sister, for God's sake..." But I have a business to run. I can't just up and leave. People are counting on me...
He rocked forward in his chair. With his palms flat on the table, he stood.
"Wait a minute," she said, reaching across the table and catching his wrist. Her heart drummed loudly, sending hot waves of anger through her body. "You could have given me more notice than this. Who is being unreasonable here?"
He glowered at her. "I understand. You'll help as long as it's convenient."
His words stung like acid. "That's not what I said." She stood, but failed to come remotely close to meeting him eye-to-eye. He was at least a head taller. Darn it, you'd think I'd done something to you. You have it all wrong, buddy. You come here steeped in attitude, hurl news that my sister is near death at me like I don't care, then drop this bomb on me and make sarcastic comments when I ask a simple, logical question. "I said I would help."
He studied her for a moment, looking aloof, and said, "So, tell me, what will you do?"
"You tell me what I need to do next--besides jump on a plane and fly to Detroit. Give me a list of the tests you need. I'll have them done tomorrow."
He glanced down at his watch. "Tomorrow is Sunday. Where will you go?"
"I'll find somewhere."
"It's not that simple. I've spent hours searching for a local lab to run the tests, but I haven't found one able to
Peter Matthiessen, 1937- Hugo van Lawick