Let It Be Me by Becky Wade (top young adult novels .TXT) 📕

speak with Luke, a few of us might need to start making regular visits to Furry Tails come January.”

“I’m game,” said Ben, always a team player.

“Not me,” Natasha stated, “for the reasons previously mentioned. But once we figure out where Luke’s living, I’m not above ambushing him there and forcing him into a conversation.”

“If he doesn’t want my friendship,” Sebastian said, “I’m not going to shove it at him.”

Genevieve sliced a shrimp in half. “Speaking of shoving things at people, Leah called me a few weeks ago, Ben. And so, of course, I shoved all your best attributes at her.”

“Anything happening on that front?” Natasha asked.

Ben choked on his water. Sebastian could feel heartburn coming on.

“Can I tell them?” Ben asked Sebastian.

Sebastian nodded.

“So, ladies.” Ben’s face looked like it belonged to a dad who’d been forced to tell his kids about puberty. “Sebastian is dating Leah.”

Genevieve set down her glass and braced her hands on her thighs. “What?”

“Explain everything,” Natasha demanded.

They were going to be here awhile.

Amazing how the chance to see someone for several days in a row could feel like a luxury. But that’s exactly what his days in Misty River had felt like to Sebastian.

His running shoes hit the pavement as he jogged his neighborhood.

He’d arrived here Friday. It was now Wednesday. Six days in a row so far.

Six of his best days.

Because of her.

He could have spent his vacation in Bora Bora or Cairo or London. But there was no place he’d rather be than here. During Leah’s work hours, he slept late, then thought about her while he mowed his lawn or watched soccer or ran errands or did projects around the house. Then, every evening, he got to spend time with her.

Gradually, the pressures of his job had slid off of him. The world had gained color and detail. His lungs could breathe deep. The space suit had gone, and when he was with Leah he was alert, healthy, whole.

Tomorrow after school let out, they planned to go kayaking.

He was already smiling, anticipating it.

As it turned out, kayaking was not to be because, in the early hours of the following morning, Sebastian’s pager yanked him from sleep.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Sebastian slit his eyes until the red numbers on his bedside clock came into focus.

3:46 a.m.

With a groan, he pressed himself into a seated position in bed. He was supposed to be on vacation.

He scrubbed his hands over his face, then called in.

“Sorry to disturb you, Dr. Grant.” It was Judy, one of the senior cardiac nurses. “Audrey thinks they may have a heart for Isabella Ackerman.”

Her words swept the cobwebs from his head. “Age of donor?”

“Thirty-three days old.”

“Blood type? Weight? Existing defects?”

She listed the donor’s information. All of it indicated a good fit.

“Cause of death?”

“SIDS. First responders were able to resuscitate. Unfortunately, the infant progressed to brain death.”

“Let’s move forward.” In the past, some of the people in the heart transplant community had been unsure of the efficacy of donor hearts from babies who’d died of sudden infant death syndrome because the mechanism of death in SIDS was unclear. However, recent studies had shown that the prognosis for children who received hearts from SIDS babies was the same as that of other patients.

“Where’s the heart?” he asked.

“Virginia.”

“Who’s the fellow on call?”

“Holmes.”

He knew the drill. Holmes, a PA, a nurse, and a perfusionist would make the trip to retrieve the heart. The police would escort the team to the airport. They’d take a private jet to Virginia and an ambulance to and from the waiting hospital.

“When will they be back?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. Ten a.m. at the earliest?”

“I’ll arrive at the hospital long before that.”

Shortly after waking, Leah had discovered a text from Sebastian asking her to give him a call. She’d dialed him, and he’d just finished updating her on Isabella.

So far this morning, she hadn’t even eaten a bowl of cereal. He’d soon reach Beckett Memorial to begin preparations for heart transplant surgery.

“I’m thrilled to hear that Isabella will be receiving a heart,” she said. “At the same time, I can’t imagine the heartbreak the donor baby’s parents are experiencing. They must be devastated.”

“Devastated,” he agreed. “This field is often like that. On one hand, terrible grief. On the other, hope.”

“Isabella has been seriously ill since the day she was born. The donor baby was born perfectly healthy, right?”

“Right.”

“And now the sick one, Isabella, is going to live. And the healthy one is gone.”

“The sick one is going to live because the healthy one is gone and because his parents chose to donate his organs.”

“How many transplants has the clinic performed this year?”

“This will be our tenth.”

Sunlight filtered through leaves to splash shades of orange against her bedroom’s white window shade. Another new day had come for her, but not for the donor baby. The back of her eyes pricked as she thought about what it must have been like for his parents to give permission for doctors to cut open the chest of their beautiful, unscathed infant so that a little girl they did not know could have a second chance at life. The excruciating pain of that. The unselfishness. “I’ll pray that everything goes smoothly.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I’ll be back in Misty River in time for dinner. See you then?”

“See you then.”

Sebastian spent forty-five minutes with Megan and Timothy, explaining the surgery. Then he walked them to the family lounge.

“I’ve been waiting and waiting for this day,” Timothy told him. “I thought I’d feel nothing but relief and excitement. And I do . . . feel that way. But I’m also frightened.”

“Me too.” Megan secured her grip on her husband’s elbow.

“That’s normal,” Sebastian said. “You became familiar with the holding pattern Isabella has been in. Today that changes.” Holmes had called him after removing the heart to say that the organ showed a little bruising from CPR, but overall looked to be in great condition.

“The next several hours are going to be long ones