Tasha stood up from behind her desk in her study. She had wanted to grade some papers, but she just couldn’t get to it. It had already been six weeks since she had tested negative for Tyson’s bone marrow match. Her parents and siblings had done the test, too. They all came back negative and there was no hope in sight with the donation registry.
“God, what is going on?” She dropped her pen and slumped against the back of her seat. “This is so frustrating…I don’t want to lose my only child!” She muttered to herself.
Tears rolled down her cheeks as a deep sense of exasperation and vulnerability engulfed her. She was just about to lose it.
“What am I going to do?”
“You know…” her conscience pricked her. “That seems to be the only way out.”
She checked the time on the wall clock. It was six in the evening already. She decided to go make dinner and not order in as she had been doing all week. She needed to calm her nerves. The clatter of pots and pans always served therapeutic for her whenever her thoughts got muddled up.
She left the room and checked on Tyson, who was napping in his room. Her mom too, who hadn’t returned to Sandville since she came for the test, was napping in the guestroom.
He was still sleeping peacefully. She closed the door gently and went downstairs to the kitchen.
Tasha started opening the cupboards and fridge to bring out all she needed to make dinner.
She wanted to make one of Tyson’s favorites, Shepard pie. Tears welled up in her eyes again as she chopped the carrots.
A few minutes later, her mom walked downstairs and stopped in her tracks seeing what Tasha was doing. The older woman watched her daughter with her brows puckering with worry.
“Honey,” she finally said, and walked into the kitchen. “You are going to hurt yourself if you keep stabbing the carrots like that.” She laid a gentle hand on her daughter’s arm.
Tasha continued to hack the onion, not minding what her mom said.
“Mrs. Harrison watched her for another two minutes, her brows before saying, “you don’t have to cook if you are not up to it.”
She dropped the knife. “I want to. If I can’t get a donor for my child, I can at least feed him homemade food!” She retorted angrily.
“It’s okay,” her mom said kindly, with understanding. “Just relax.” She pulled her into her arms.
“I…I can’t help my boy,” she said against her mother’s shoulder and burst into fresh tears.
“Tasha, I know you love Tyson so much,” Mrs. Harrison started gently. “Why don’t you put aside your anger and call Blake? He’s the only solution to this problem; don’t you think so?”
“Mom…,” she moved away from her mother, sniffing. “I don’t know, how…how can I look into his face after all these years and tell him we have a child together?”
“You must do it,” her mother patted her hand. “You are a mother. A mother has to do everything, no matter how uncomfortable it is, to save the life of her child.”
*******
“And Tyson too,” she sat down dejectedly at the kitchen table. “How can I tell him I have been lying to him all his life?
“Trust me,” she looked into Tasha’s eyes perceptively. “That would be the sweetest thing you could tell him now; the truth.”
“What if he refuses to do it?” She gave her mom a wry smile and shrugged. “I mean, he has every right not to want help.” Her voice trembled with anxiety.
“Why don’t you leave that decision for him to make?” Mrs. Harrison laid a hand on Tasha’s back. “Even if he refuses, you would have done what a good mother should do.”
They both stayed in silence for a long time, before she stood up and announced, “I will make the call now. I saved the phone number he called me with the other time. ”
Tasha ran out of the kitchen. She didn’t want to develop cold feet later.
Tasha went to her study and picked up her phone from her desk. She started scrolling through her contacts. Tasha was so happy that she listened to Grant that insisted that she save Blake’s phone number the other time he called when she and Grant just started their relationship.
She saw the number and dialed. Tasha perched on the edge of her desk while she waited for him to pick up with bated breath.
He answered after the second dial. He must have saved her number too, because he knew she was the one.
“Hey Dr. Tasha,” his excited voice floated into the phone. “How are you doing?”
“I’m good,” she replied, her pulse pulsating with more anxiety.
“Blake, I need to see you,” she went straight to the point. “It’s urgent.”
“Urgent, is everything okay, Tasha?” “Ye-, yes, Blake,” she replied. “Can I come on Friday?”
“Is it that urgent?” It surprised him she would want to see him for anything. “And you don’t want to tell me over the phone?”
“No, Blake,” she tried to swallow the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. “I would prefer we talk in person.”
“That’s okay,” he said with confusion. “When should I be expecting you?”
“I will try to leave with the first flight,” she responded. “So give or take, I should be there by 2pm.”
“That’s fine. Would you want me to plans for your accommodation and a car to pick you up at the airport?”
“No, no, no,” it surprised her he offered, though. “I will make my arrangements. You don’t have to bother.”
“Okay, if you say so.”
“I will let you know when my flight is by tomorrow evening.” She told him.
“That’s alright,” he said. “I’ll be expecting your call.”
“Goodnight Blake,” she whispered.
“Goodnight, Tasha,” he responded and cut off this line.
“Wow.” Tasha heaved a sigh of relief. The first leg went better than she expected.
“I still have to carry out the second leg tonight,” she thought to herself as she left the room. She knew she had to tell Tyson the truth about his father before leaving for New York on Friday.