It was perfectly hopeless.
“I can’t do this.” He dropped his head between his knees breathless, anxiety coursing through him like tiny little rockets. He tensed up when she placed her hand on his back. Maven refused to pull away. She rubbed his back trying to rid him of some of the stress.
“You don’t have to. We can just sit here.” She pulled him close, securing his body with her arms, nearly squeezing the life out of him. “Look at the sun, the water. It’s all beautiful. Let’s just enjoy it.” She tugged on his arm, trying to get him to at least raise his head to witness the beauty she was referring to.
“I’m dying.” He spit it out finally.
Dying. The nastiest utterance in the English language escaped his lips and slammed into her conscious. Maven’s heart stopped. Her skin tingling and tears stung her eyes. She carefully wiped at them.
“How could that be?” She rested her head against him, confused, trying to appear strong even though she felt weak. Something so wonderful was crumbling before her very eyes—something that made her happy.
“I have asked the same question over and over.” He finally lifted his head. “I never knew there was anything wrong with me until I started playing baseball. Then one night during a big game I didn’t feel right. And before I knew it I passed out. When I woke up I was surrounded by paramedics and they were rushing me to the hospital.”
Maven listened.
“My whole life I thought I was fine. And then I do something I love and find out just like that, that I’m not okay and I’m not a normal healthy guy.”
“What was wrong with you?”
“They told me I had a heart condition, and that was the reason I collapsed on the field that day. And I was okay with that. My parents knew enough to know I could be put on a donor list. But then, nothing is ever that simple and by my next appointment they were tossing all these foreign words at us. My name was no longer Henri Levitt, I was just some statistic, this kid that missed school and was pumped full of drugs and told not to do anything anymore.”
Maven touched his arm. He pulled away like always when anyone wanted to comfort him.
“So what do you do?”
“I wait. I wait for the next step in my life to happen.” Death, he was waiting for death. He wasn’t about to tell her that though.
“So you’re on a donor’s list?” Maven was the daughter of two doctors. She knew there was a lot of hope for people like Henri. People received hearts all the time.
“No. I refused to go on that list because doctors said the probability of improvement was too bleak. If it was just my heart I could come back from a surgery like that. But I’m not lucky enough to just need a heart. My parents gave me a horrible set of genes that makes it pretty much impossible.”
“But you could try.” She believed in hope. She was a girl with more hope than anyone.
“No. And I’ll tell you why. When I was in the hospital I met a lot of people. Young kids that barely got to live their lives. There was this little boy up there on the donor list. All I can remember is wanting so badly for him to find a heart so he could play baseball like me when he was older. And I knew there were more people out there just like him that could make it through a surgery, people able to accept a new heart. Why would I be greedy? Why would I take that from someone else for a measly chance? I wouldn’t. And I didn’t.”
Like everyone else in his life, he saw the look of frustration on her face. To them they were being normal, but to Henri they were being selfish. Henri had lived long enough to know what it was like to be happy. He had been pretty happy all the way up until he found out he was dying. He wanted to allow someone else that same right.
Maven couldn’t put herself in his shoes. She had never been in his place before. She didn’t know what it felt like to live, knowing you were dying. She couldn’t imagine it was fun. A lot about Henri made sense to her suddenly. And now all she wanted to do was help him make it through, to somehow transform into his answer, his savior.
“You’re upset. And I’m sorry about that,” Henri replied, he sighed. Maven rested her head against his shoulder.
“How could I not be upset?” She touched his face. “But don’t apologize, Henri.”
“I wouldn’t be angry with you if you left here right now, Maven. In fact I would totally understand it.” He stroked her hair, watching the willow trees blow in the breeze, afraid to hear her answer, but willing to accept it.
“I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at life.” She squeezed his arm, closing her eyes. “And I don’t want to be anywhere, but here with you.”
Henri couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He smiled, wrapping his arm around her.
“That’s the most amazing thing I have ever heard someone say.” Suddenly things didn’t feel so bad.
TIME
SHE MIGHT NOT HAVE BEEN walking on cloud nine, but she was still in her own kind of good mood. Mrs. Wilder noticed this about her as soon as she came into the kitchen for breakfast.
“Mom made pancakes.” Nick pointed out, hoping she would stick around long enough to catch the third degree from their parents so they would lay off of him for a while. Maven hardly showed her face anymore for breakfast, lunch, or even dinner. She was completely wrapped up in Henri Levitt. Her every waking moment revolved around Henri.
Their dad took a seat at the head of the table lifting the piping hot plate of pancakes and taking two of his own. He passed them to Maggie. Maggie tugged her ear buds from her ears, joining in on the family moment. Even she was surprised to see Maven this morning.
“So, what’s on the agenda for today, Maves?” Her mother asked. She knew the answer, but it was nice to have any form of conversation with her daughter.
“Henri and I were going to help paint decorations for the Portwood Summer Hop.” The Portwood Summer Hop was the annual shindig that everybody staying in Portwood attended. The young and the old were out for the festivities. And it was natural to hear that Maven was helping set up decorations. Only this year nobody thought Maven would be up to it. It was also something Jake Summit took part in.
“I was talking to Henri about the Hop and he said he had never been. It didn’t take much twisting of his arm to persuade him to help out. He loves to paint.” Maven smiled at the thought of Henri. She was only home because he had an appointment that morning. Otherwise she would have gotten up, showered, found something for the two of them to eat, and been on her way.
Nick pushed his plate away. “I’m full. And I promised April I’d meet her to shop for dresses.” Nick said his goodbyes and took off out the door.
Maggie shoved her ear buds back in¸ turning the volume up so she wasn’t part of any conversation that was about to begin. She knew her parents had been waiting to chat with Maven about Henri.
“How are things going between you and Henri?” Her father asked. He pulled his glasses off, setting them down on the table. He rubbed his eyes, looking exhausted already.
Maven lifted her glass of orange juice. “Wonderful.”
“Is everything alright with him?” Her mother asked. She was trying to hide her unease, but it was written all over her face.
“You’re his doctor, you’re not allowed to talk about this stuff outside of the office.” Maven pursed her lips. “Henri is fine.”
“I’m not discussing Henri’s medical issues. I was simply asking about Henri as a person.” She pushed her hair behind her ear, staring at Maven. “If you wanted to discuss anything with me about Henri the boy you enjoy being around, that is totally different. In this house Henri is just a boy my daughter likes a lot.”