Hardy’s father’s eyes sparkled with an evil insinuation Hardy had never seen before. Wayne Bradford knew which buttons to push. He’d been playing Hardy all along.
“You knew.”
“Knew what?” Wayne asked snidely.
“You knew the only reason I went along with all your plans, put up with all your bullshit was to protect Clay. And you let me. You used that to control me.”
“I’ve never laid a hand on your brother and you know it. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Hardy raised his hand and pressed his finger into the center of his father’s chest. “Let me tell you, if you ever lay a hand on either of them, a finger on either of them, I’ll ruin you. You mark my words.”
All the fear Hardy had lived under for most of his life suddenly didn’t seem so insurmountable. If Miracle could be brave enough to face death, Hardy could be brave enough to face his father.
“And just what do you think you’re going to do about it? Especially when you’re not living here.”
Hardy smiled in satisfaction, having dreamed of this moment since he was a little boy—the moment he could call his father’s bluff.
“Do you remember the year you got me that camera for Christmas? The digital one?”
Wayne’s brow wrinkled, but unease was written all over his face. He nodded.
“That was a big mistake,” Hardy declared smugly, crossing his arms over his chest. He smelled victory in the air.
“Just what are you saying?”
“I took pictures—lots of pictures—of the worst of the damage. I saved them to a CD and hid them. I was always too afraid to use them, afraid for Mom and Clay.”
“You’ve played football since you were six years old. Kids get bruised,” Wayne stated, shrugging as if unconcerned, but he wasn’t fooling Hardy.
Hardy hadn’t realized the depth of his father’s sickness until that very moment. He’d always thought his father was grooming him to be a pro football player from an early age. And, to some degree, Hardy was sure he was. But he’d also done it to cover his tracks, to give doubt to any claims or suspicions Hardy might make.
“Did you know the camera had a date stamp? And that there are quite a few pictures from the spring and summer?”
He didn’t need to add nowhere near football season; it was strongly implied. And Wayne understood that. He paled beneath his perfect tan.
“No one would—”
Hardy interrupted, feeling empowered. “It doesn’t matter, Dad. You know as well as I do that the suspicion alone would ruin you. An upstanding member of the community being accused of child abuse. A long, drawn out, very public court battle. And if another family member showed up with bruises…or accusations…”
“You wouldn’t do that.” But he wasn’t convinced. Not really.
“Wouldn’t I? Wouldn’t I, Dad? Try me. Lay a finger on Mom or Clay and try me.”
After a long pause, during which Wayne Bradford came to the realization that his son was no longer playing by his rules, Hardy’s father spoke again. “So what is it that you want? For me to support you and your sickly girlfriend?”
Hardy snorted. His father really was a bastard. “No. I just want you to stay out of my life. And to keep your hands off Mom and Clay. That’s all I want from you. Beyond that, I don’t care if you drop dead in the shower tomorrow. You’ve hurt me enough to last a lifetime. I’m done with you.” Hardy spat. “I’m done with you.”
Pushing past his dumbstruck father, Hardy made his way to the bathroom. His heart was beating like a jackhammer against his ribs and he was a little shaky, but he was no worse for the wear. He stood in front of the mirror studying his reflection for a long time before he smiled. He was finally free. They all were.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Miracle had already changed into her hospital gown. Kelly St. James was folding her clothes and putting them into the suitcase that rested on the vinyl reclining chair in the corner. Hardy was holding Miracle’s hand. Absently, he ran the fingers of his other hand alongside the graft she would no longer need after today.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said, even though she hadn’t mentioned fear. He could read it all over her face, in her too-bright smile. He knew her too well. “You’re gonna be fine. Better than fine.”
Miracle smiled. “I’ll be peeing like a champion in no time.”
Hardy chuckled. “Everyone’s dream…”
He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly seven a.m. Time for him to go. He cleared his throat.
“Well, they’ll be coming for you in a while. I’ll let you rest, okay?”
Miracle’s brows drew together. “You’re leaving?”
“Well, I, um, I don’t want to tire you out before, uh, you know. You need to be rested going into this thing, right?” Hardy stammered.
Miracle tried to smile, but Hardy could see that she’d gotten the wrong impression. “Sure. I mean, I’m sure you’re right.” She looked away from him, blinking quickly several times before asking her mother for her purse. Kelly eyed Hardy as she carried Miracle’s purse to the bed. Unzipping it, Miracle withdrew an envelope and handed it to Hardy. “I wanted you to see this before I went in to surgery. You know, just in case…”
“Just in case nothing! Give it to me after.”
“No, Hardy. We have to be realistic. There’s always a chance things might not go as planned.”
“Don’t say things like that,” Hardy reiterated in exasperation. “I told you—”
“I know, I know. Please. Just open it.”
The envelope was already open. It had his name on it, but Miracle’s street address. It said University of North Florida in the upper left corner.
Hardy reached inside and removed the single piece of paper. Unfolding it, he read and then re-read the words.
“Wha-what is this?” He was thoroughly confused.
“Please don’t get mad. I only did it because I love you,” Miracle said, her chin quivering.
“But what did you do? I don’t understand.”
Miracle played nervously with her IV tubing, refusing to meet his eyes. “When you broke your hand and took all those amazing pictures of the football games you missed, you left some we’d just developed at the house one night. When it looked like you might not be able to get a full ride to LSU on a football scholarship, I printed a copy of your essay from my laptop and submitted it with those photos to a couple colleges with really good art programs. I just wanted to see. I mean, I knew you were good enough, but I knew you wouldn’t do anything about it because of your dad.” Miracle paused, looking up at him from under her lashes. “So I did.”
Hardy just stared at Miracle for at least two minutes, digesting what she’d said, what she’d done. When still he couldn’t find the words to thank her, to tell her how much he loved her, how much her belief in him affected him, he hooked a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up to his.
Staring deeply into her eyes, Hardy prayed that all he felt for her would show, that she could see what he couldn’t find the words to say. When her lips curved into a tremulous smile, he cupped her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes.
Hardy whispered, just loud enough for Miracle to hear, “Someday I’ll marry you, Miracle. And maybe someday after that, I’ll deserve you.”
Hardy heard a faint sob and, without opening his eyes, he pressed his lips to hers. He felt her shaking against him, knew what she was feeling.
Opening his eyes and leaning back a couple of inches, Hardy wiped the tears streaming from her eyes with his thumbs.
“I was dead inside until you came along. Now I can’t imagine my life without you. Not for a single day. I’d miss you too much.”
“You wouldn’t miss me,” she sniffled.
“Nah, you’re probably right. I only miss you a little now. When I’m awake. When I’m asleep. When I’m breathing.” When Miracle finally met his gaze, Hardy let his heart pour into his eyes. “My life is nothing without you, Miracle. Nothing. I love you. Do you hear me? I love you!”
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
Just then, a nurse cleared her throat from the doorway. Hardy turned to look at her. He knew why she was there; he was late.
“I have to let you go. I love you. I’ll see you on the other side.”
Giving Miracle a quick kiss, Hardy hurried out the door.
********
Miracle didn’t know what to think. She’d thought at first that Hardy had realized the transplant was just too much, that having a girlfriend on a pharmacy of medications for the rest of her life was not what he signed up for.
But then…the things he’d said. She leaned her head back against the pillow and closed her eyes, warm tears still leaking out from beneath her lowered lashes.
As long as she lived, she’d remember his words verbatim. She would recall his touch, his kiss, the sincerity flowing from his eyes, from his heart. She’d never forget the moment they’d just shared.
Miracle wanted to believe him—desperately—but only time would tell. Maybe he would be there when she woke up. Maybe he wouldn’t.
At least she’d gotten to give him the letter. She’d wanted to do that before going under the knife. Although the doctors were very optimistic about the surgery, there were still risks. Big risks. But she was ready to go. She believed in God, believed in Jesus. And she’d had some wonderful years with her mother and sister.
And Hardy.
She’d known a love few people ever got to know. And she could die happy because of him, because of what he’d given her. It was enough. More than enough.
She must’ve dozed off from the sedative they’d squirted into her IV, because those were the last thoughts Miracle had until they came to wheel her away.
********
The nurse rolled Miracle into the Holding Room, into one of six curtained bays. Only one other curtain was drawn. Miracle wondered if behind it lay the person donating a kidney to her. She would never know. The person had asked to remain anonymous, for legal purposes. Miracle wasn’t about to argue with someone who was basically saving her life.
Another nurse came from behind the curtain and rushed to collaborate with the nurse who’d brought Miracle. Then, syringes and tubes trailing from their hands, they descended upon her.
They put oxygen on her and had her open her mouth as wide as she could. They confirmed her name and her allergies and what procedure she was having. They hooked up more tubing and squirted more medications. They inspected her belly and made notes in her chart.
When they were finished, they left, the second nurse telling her it wouldn’t be long. Then she pulled the curtain and left her alone. Miracle didn’t know how much time had elapsed when she heard his voice, but whoever he was, his words started a flurry of activity. Then someone drew back her curtain and unlocked her bed.
“It’s almost time, but I’m going to wheel you down here for a few minutes before we take you into the surgical suite, okay sweetie?”
Miracle just nodded. She had no idea what normal protocol was. If they’d left her sitting in the hall for two hours, she probably wouldn’t have questioned them. She just wished they’d let Hardy stay longer.
The nurse pushed Miracle’s stretcher down to the end of the room and pulled her alongside the very last stall, the only other one with a closed curtain. Miracle was a little uncomfortable, not wanting to go against the wishes of her donor.
“Um, excuse me, but I don’t think I’m supposed to see the person in there,” Miracle whispered to the nurse as she pointed to the next stall.
The nurse simply smiled and stepped on the lock at the foot of Miracle’s bed. When she walked off, never addressing Miracle’s concern, Miracle looked hesitantly at the concealed bay beside her. She was debating what to do about it when she heard the hooks slide along their track. The curtain was opening.
Miracle watched, wide-eyed and terrified, as her donor was revealed to her.
And then she became confused.
Hardy lay in the bed across from her, smiling devilishly, his brown hair covered with a blue surgical hat and his slate blue eyes twinkling in delight.
“What are you doing in here?”
Miracle thought it was a joke at first.
“I’m going with you,” he declared. “Well, sorta.”
“What do you mean? I don’t understand.”
“I’m gonna be a part of you whether you like it or not.”
Miracle’s fuzzy brain struggled to comprehend what he was getting at. “Where is the person who is donating the kidney? I don’t understand.”
“Miracle,” Hardy began tolerantly. “You’re going to be getting my kidney. I’m the donor.”
“But…how?”
“I’m a perfect match. How cool is that?” When Miracle continued to stare blankly at him, Hardy continued. “I bet you didn’t think I was literally perfect for you, did you?”
“Do you mean you’re actually a match for my kidney? Seriously?”
“Yep, that’s what I mean. We’re destined to be together. There’s just no denying it.”
Hardy knew the instant Miracle truly understood what was going on. She began to cry.
“No, Hardy,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head. “No, no, no, no.”
Hardy reached out and grabbed Miracle’s hand. “Miracle stop! I want to do it. I told you I would do anything for you. And I meant it.”
“You knew.”
“Knew what?” Wayne asked snidely.
“You knew the only reason I went along with all your plans, put up with all your bullshit was to protect Clay. And you let me. You used that to control me.”
“I’ve never laid a hand on your brother and you know it. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Hardy raised his hand and pressed his finger into the center of his father’s chest. “Let me tell you, if you ever lay a hand on either of them, a finger on either of them, I’ll ruin you. You mark my words.”
All the fear Hardy had lived under for most of his life suddenly didn’t seem so insurmountable. If Miracle could be brave enough to face death, Hardy could be brave enough to face his father.
“And just what do you think you’re going to do about it? Especially when you’re not living here.”
Hardy smiled in satisfaction, having dreamed of this moment since he was a little boy—the moment he could call his father’s bluff.
“Do you remember the year you got me that camera for Christmas? The digital one?”
Wayne’s brow wrinkled, but unease was written all over his face. He nodded.
“That was a big mistake,” Hardy declared smugly, crossing his arms over his chest. He smelled victory in the air.
“Just what are you saying?”
“I took pictures—lots of pictures—of the worst of the damage. I saved them to a CD and hid them. I was always too afraid to use them, afraid for Mom and Clay.”
“You’ve played football since you were six years old. Kids get bruised,” Wayne stated, shrugging as if unconcerned, but he wasn’t fooling Hardy.
Hardy hadn’t realized the depth of his father’s sickness until that very moment. He’d always thought his father was grooming him to be a pro football player from an early age. And, to some degree, Hardy was sure he was. But he’d also done it to cover his tracks, to give doubt to any claims or suspicions Hardy might make.
“Did you know the camera had a date stamp? And that there are quite a few pictures from the spring and summer?”
He didn’t need to add nowhere near football season; it was strongly implied. And Wayne understood that. He paled beneath his perfect tan.
“No one would—”
Hardy interrupted, feeling empowered. “It doesn’t matter, Dad. You know as well as I do that the suspicion alone would ruin you. An upstanding member of the community being accused of child abuse. A long, drawn out, very public court battle. And if another family member showed up with bruises…or accusations…”
“You wouldn’t do that.” But he wasn’t convinced. Not really.
“Wouldn’t I? Wouldn’t I, Dad? Try me. Lay a finger on Mom or Clay and try me.”
After a long pause, during which Wayne Bradford came to the realization that his son was no longer playing by his rules, Hardy’s father spoke again. “So what is it that you want? For me to support you and your sickly girlfriend?”
Hardy snorted. His father really was a bastard. “No. I just want you to stay out of my life. And to keep your hands off Mom and Clay. That’s all I want from you. Beyond that, I don’t care if you drop dead in the shower tomorrow. You’ve hurt me enough to last a lifetime. I’m done with you.” Hardy spat. “I’m done with you.”
Pushing past his dumbstruck father, Hardy made his way to the bathroom. His heart was beating like a jackhammer against his ribs and he was a little shaky, but he was no worse for the wear. He stood in front of the mirror studying his reflection for a long time before he smiled. He was finally free. They all were.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Miracle had already changed into her hospital gown. Kelly St. James was folding her clothes and putting them into the suitcase that rested on the vinyl reclining chair in the corner. Hardy was holding Miracle’s hand. Absently, he ran the fingers of his other hand alongside the graft she would no longer need after today.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said, even though she hadn’t mentioned fear. He could read it all over her face, in her too-bright smile. He knew her too well. “You’re gonna be fine. Better than fine.”
Miracle smiled. “I’ll be peeing like a champion in no time.”
Hardy chuckled. “Everyone’s dream…”
He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly seven a.m. Time for him to go. He cleared his throat.
“Well, they’ll be coming for you in a while. I’ll let you rest, okay?”
Miracle’s brows drew together. “You’re leaving?”
“Well, I, um, I don’t want to tire you out before, uh, you know. You need to be rested going into this thing, right?” Hardy stammered.
Miracle tried to smile, but Hardy could see that she’d gotten the wrong impression. “Sure. I mean, I’m sure you’re right.” She looked away from him, blinking quickly several times before asking her mother for her purse. Kelly eyed Hardy as she carried Miracle’s purse to the bed. Unzipping it, Miracle withdrew an envelope and handed it to Hardy. “I wanted you to see this before I went in to surgery. You know, just in case…”
“Just in case nothing! Give it to me after.”
“No, Hardy. We have to be realistic. There’s always a chance things might not go as planned.”
“Don’t say things like that,” Hardy reiterated in exasperation. “I told you—”
“I know, I know. Please. Just open it.”
The envelope was already open. It had his name on it, but Miracle’s street address. It said University of North Florida in the upper left corner.
Hardy reached inside and removed the single piece of paper. Unfolding it, he read and then re-read the words.
“Wha-what is this?” He was thoroughly confused.
“Please don’t get mad. I only did it because I love you,” Miracle said, her chin quivering.
“But what did you do? I don’t understand.”
Miracle played nervously with her IV tubing, refusing to meet his eyes. “When you broke your hand and took all those amazing pictures of the football games you missed, you left some we’d just developed at the house one night. When it looked like you might not be able to get a full ride to LSU on a football scholarship, I printed a copy of your essay from my laptop and submitted it with those photos to a couple colleges with really good art programs. I just wanted to see. I mean, I knew you were good enough, but I knew you wouldn’t do anything about it because of your dad.” Miracle paused, looking up at him from under her lashes. “So I did.”
Hardy just stared at Miracle for at least two minutes, digesting what she’d said, what she’d done. When still he couldn’t find the words to thank her, to tell her how much he loved her, how much her belief in him affected him, he hooked a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up to his.
Staring deeply into her eyes, Hardy prayed that all he felt for her would show, that she could see what he couldn’t find the words to say. When her lips curved into a tremulous smile, he cupped her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes.
Hardy whispered, just loud enough for Miracle to hear, “Someday I’ll marry you, Miracle. And maybe someday after that, I’ll deserve you.”
Hardy heard a faint sob and, without opening his eyes, he pressed his lips to hers. He felt her shaking against him, knew what she was feeling.
Opening his eyes and leaning back a couple of inches, Hardy wiped the tears streaming from her eyes with his thumbs.
“I was dead inside until you came along. Now I can’t imagine my life without you. Not for a single day. I’d miss you too much.”
“You wouldn’t miss me,” she sniffled.
“Nah, you’re probably right. I only miss you a little now. When I’m awake. When I’m asleep. When I’m breathing.” When Miracle finally met his gaze, Hardy let his heart pour into his eyes. “My life is nothing without you, Miracle. Nothing. I love you. Do you hear me? I love you!”
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
Just then, a nurse cleared her throat from the doorway. Hardy turned to look at her. He knew why she was there; he was late.
“I have to let you go. I love you. I’ll see you on the other side.”
Giving Miracle a quick kiss, Hardy hurried out the door.
********
Miracle didn’t know what to think. She’d thought at first that Hardy had realized the transplant was just too much, that having a girlfriend on a pharmacy of medications for the rest of her life was not what he signed up for.
But then…the things he’d said. She leaned her head back against the pillow and closed her eyes, warm tears still leaking out from beneath her lowered lashes.
As long as she lived, she’d remember his words verbatim. She would recall his touch, his kiss, the sincerity flowing from his eyes, from his heart. She’d never forget the moment they’d just shared.
Miracle wanted to believe him—desperately—but only time would tell. Maybe he would be there when she woke up. Maybe he wouldn’t.
At least she’d gotten to give him the letter. She’d wanted to do that before going under the knife. Although the doctors were very optimistic about the surgery, there were still risks. Big risks. But she was ready to go. She believed in God, believed in Jesus. And she’d had some wonderful years with her mother and sister.
And Hardy.
She’d known a love few people ever got to know. And she could die happy because of him, because of what he’d given her. It was enough. More than enough.
She must’ve dozed off from the sedative they’d squirted into her IV, because those were the last thoughts Miracle had until they came to wheel her away.
********
The nurse rolled Miracle into the Holding Room, into one of six curtained bays. Only one other curtain was drawn. Miracle wondered if behind it lay the person donating a kidney to her. She would never know. The person had asked to remain anonymous, for legal purposes. Miracle wasn’t about to argue with someone who was basically saving her life.
Another nurse came from behind the curtain and rushed to collaborate with the nurse who’d brought Miracle. Then, syringes and tubes trailing from their hands, they descended upon her.
They put oxygen on her and had her open her mouth as wide as she could. They confirmed her name and her allergies and what procedure she was having. They hooked up more tubing and squirted more medications. They inspected her belly and made notes in her chart.
When they were finished, they left, the second nurse telling her it wouldn’t be long. Then she pulled the curtain and left her alone. Miracle didn’t know how much time had elapsed when she heard his voice, but whoever he was, his words started a flurry of activity. Then someone drew back her curtain and unlocked her bed.
“It’s almost time, but I’m going to wheel you down here for a few minutes before we take you into the surgical suite, okay sweetie?”
Miracle just nodded. She had no idea what normal protocol was. If they’d left her sitting in the hall for two hours, she probably wouldn’t have questioned them. She just wished they’d let Hardy stay longer.
The nurse pushed Miracle’s stretcher down to the end of the room and pulled her alongside the very last stall, the only other one with a closed curtain. Miracle was a little uncomfortable, not wanting to go against the wishes of her donor.
“Um, excuse me, but I don’t think I’m supposed to see the person in there,” Miracle whispered to the nurse as she pointed to the next stall.
The nurse simply smiled and stepped on the lock at the foot of Miracle’s bed. When she walked off, never addressing Miracle’s concern, Miracle looked hesitantly at the concealed bay beside her. She was debating what to do about it when she heard the hooks slide along their track. The curtain was opening.
Miracle watched, wide-eyed and terrified, as her donor was revealed to her.
And then she became confused.
Hardy lay in the bed across from her, smiling devilishly, his brown hair covered with a blue surgical hat and his slate blue eyes twinkling in delight.
“What are you doing in here?”
Miracle thought it was a joke at first.
“I’m going with you,” he declared. “Well, sorta.”
“What do you mean? I don’t understand.”
“I’m gonna be a part of you whether you like it or not.”
Miracle’s fuzzy brain struggled to comprehend what he was getting at. “Where is the person who is donating the kidney? I don’t understand.”
“Miracle,” Hardy began tolerantly. “You’re going to be getting my kidney. I’m the donor.”
“But…how?”
“I’m a perfect match. How cool is that?” When Miracle continued to stare blankly at him, Hardy continued. “I bet you didn’t think I was literally perfect for you, did you?”
“Do you mean you’re actually a match for my kidney? Seriously?”
“Yep, that’s what I mean. We’re destined to be together. There’s just no denying it.”
Hardy knew the instant Miracle truly understood what was going on. She began to cry.
“No, Hardy,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head. “No, no, no, no.”
Hardy reached out and grabbed Miracle’s hand. “Miracle stop! I want to do it. I told you I would do anything for you. And I meant it.”
