When I Die [Wattys 2016]

Chapter 24: Results

The thirtieth day was looming upon us. We were 26 days post-transplant. I had an appointment in four days to check blood work. They said I should be starting to feel better if it was working. I was getting extremely nervous. Most of the days, I laid around downstairs, sometimes upstairs when I was feeling particularly weak. I didn't do much at all these days.

Aaron and Lara were turning into such great parents. I had a lot of time to watch them, thankfully. They loved Little Leo so much. It was wild to watch Aaron step into that role. He'd always been my friend, and he always wanted to make sure I was okay. He was very protective and adventurous, smart and outgoing. I always believed Aaron was the full package, and I wanted to be just like him when I got older. Even as I watched him with his baby, I thought I wouldn't mind being like him one day. Lara was graceful even in less-than-graceful situations. The entire time she'd been here while I was sick, she was nothing but helpful. I mean, she had a baby here and had to share the limelight with me because of my stupid bruises. She never complained. She was always trying to ask my mom what needed to be done. I was glad Aaron found her. I remember my mom asked Aaron before he decided to propose if he was sure. He told her that he'd never been more sure of anything. I had to agree. Little Leo was starting to babble and coo, he smiled a bit and was getting cuter by the day. His hair was a brassy brown, sort of a mix of my mom's and Aaron's hair. He was still almost golden and had perfect cheeks that trapped drool. Freakin' cute.

I looked at them, in bliss with their creation, watching him, getting excited just about every time he blinked or farted or yawned. They smiled every time. The diapers were easy, both of them volunteered to do it. I realized they weren't very far into this, but I hoped they'd hold on to that. I felt like they would. When I watched them with him, burping him, feeding him, changing him, washing him, staying up all night trying to soothe him from his colic pains, I thought about how my mom did that once with me. And as much as I loved watching them with Little Leo, I hoped and prayed they never had to do it again once he grew out of it. I didn't imagine that they looked at him, kissed his feet, and thought they'd ever have to do this after he was about 3. I'd never had a kid, I couldn't imagine watching something you created grow up and walk around and bring new ideas to the conversation. I couldn't imagine having an extension of your body and heart and soul that you can't even control. I can't imagine raising that baby into an adult and then watch them reverse, turn right around, descending back into babyhood. To watch them lose all the things you taught them: their ability to dress themselves, to eat, to sleep through the night... I looked at my mom as an absolute angel, and in a way that I'd never realized. She loved so deeply. I looked at Aaron and I wondered if my dad felt that way about me, the way Aaron felt about Little Leo. I wondered if I'd ever know.

On the twenty-ninth night, Myra and Reid came over. They came up to my bedroom and sat on my floor and played video games while I stared on, blankly. Reid was winning, destroying Myra's missile launcher when Myra turned to me and said,

"Leo, how are you feeling?"

I released a breath and shrugged, saying, "I'm okay... just a little tired, but... I mean..."

"No, no. I mean... how are you feeling? How are your feelings? How do you feel about tomorrow?"

Reid had paused the game by then, looking to me for my answer.

"I don't know, I guess... I'm scared." Understatement of the Year.

"Do you think it's going to be good news?" Reid asked.

I shrugged, "I'm don't know. I guess I feel a little less sick, but I'm still just as weak. It sucks."

Reid nodded then. His phone began ringing, interrupting all our thoughts. Saved by the bell, I thought to myself.