cool.
“That’s the thing. He hasn’t found a donor and I’m going around to everyone we know to see if they would be willing to be tested. Matt really needs this transplant.”
“Wow. I don’t know. It sounds scary. I’d like to help but I’m not sure.” She walked back to her seat and fiddled with the ribbon.
“It’s actually pretty easy. They do a thing called an HLA test and if you match, the donation procedure is a one-night hospital stay or it may even be outpatient. They take some of the donor’s marrow cells out of his or her hip. The procedure takes about an hour so it’s not a big deal for the donor, but it’s life-saving for the patient.”
“How do you know so much about all this?”
“I’m doing my residency in oncology at Daughters of Mercy. That’s why I moved home and bought Granny’s house.”
“I had no idea you’d gone to medical school. As much as I loved your grandparents, I didn’t really see them once I came back from college myself.”
“No problem. Gramps died a few years ago. You can’t be expected to have paid much attention to a former teen boyfriend’s grandparents, could you?” Chip smiled. His white teeth, always one of his best features, shone in the dim light of the room. “Will you come tomorrow and be tested? I know it’s a holiday, but I’ve made arrangements to have the tests done as we need to move quickly for Matt.”
A bit sad that he thought she didn’t have a lasting tie to his grandparents, and more than a little ashamed that she hadn’t tried to keep in contact with them, Molly said, “I can be tested but what are the realistic chances of finding a donor?”
“Family matches are the norm, but we won’t know until we try. I’m hoping to find someone who can help.” Chip stood and brushed the front of his pants. “You’re tearing that ribbon to shreds.” He nodded at her hands.
“Oh, I guess I am. I was going to make a wreath but ran out of time since I’ve been gone. I guess I can save it for next year.” She looked down and sure enough, she’d made a mess of the end of the roll. She stood to follow him to the door.
Chip turned the knob and pulled the door open, then shouldered the screen. He walked onto the porch and turned to her where she stood half in and half out of the house. Cupping her face in the palm of his hand, he whispered, “You’re still the same sweet Molly I remember, even though I’ve heard how tough you are now.”
Confused by what he meant and more than a little addled by the warmth of his touch, Molly couldn’t find her tongue to respond and before she knew it, he had leapt off her porch and was gone into the darkness of the night.
* * * *
The next morning, Molly rose early to make sure she had time to make the cranberry salad and her special red velvet cake before heading over to the Thanksgiving dinner with the extended family at her parents’ place. She was looking forward to the special table her mother always set for their family gathering. The lavender napkins that only came out once a year, along with the wine glasses and silver chargers that her parents got when they married, were a tradition that Molly held close to her heart. It wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without those little touches.
She decided not to shower and dress before cooking since she usually made a mess anyway. Sleeping in a thin flannel pajama top and yoga pants was comfy and perfect to bake in, too. After brushing her teeth, she tugged on a pair of socks and her sneakers and headed to the kitchen.
After slipping the festive apron with embroidered pumpkins scattered on the bodice over her head, Molly opened the flour container. A poof of white powder flew up into her face. She laughed as she measured the ingredients for the cake. It had been too long since she’d made a cake from scratch since she’d been living in hotels for work, and she’d missed the process.
Glad that she was no longer traveling as a consultant,