“He’s handsome. And devoted. I think you did well when you caught his eye.”
She hoped Dylan hadn’t said anything about Levi’s past. She didn’t want Gail or Simon or anyone else who didn’t already know to find out about the fight he’d had with those two officers. She knew he felt bad about it. He’d said as much yesterday while her parents were at lunch and they’d had a few minutes to themselves.
Fortunately, she sensed that her friends were willing to let his past go, at least for the time being. As a matter of fact, everyone was acting as if Dylan had never told them he’d recognized Levi. Even Kyle hadn’t mentioned it.
“I love him,” she said.
Gail squeezed her arm. “I can tell. Joe thinks he’s great, too. Wants him to come work at the Gas-N-Go when you’re all better.”
Callie imagined moving back to the farm and taking up where they’d left off. They’d been so happy during those two weeks. It was that vision that kept her clinging to life. “Nice of him.”
“Joe told me he’s never seen a more talented mechanic,” Simon added. “I guess he fixed some BMW Joe was having trouble with.”
“So it was...the main computer?”
Callie must’ve spoken too softly. Gail leaned toward her. “What?”
The comment wasn’t important enough to repeat. “Never...mind.”
Her parents joined them next. “Where’s Levi?” Diana asked, sounding slightly disappointed that he wasn’t in the room.
Callie took a breath. “Showering.”
Diana wedged her wheelchair into a spot at the foot of the bed. “He’s such a nice young man. Don’t you think so, Gail?”
Gail nodded. “I was just telling Callie the same thing.”
They continued to talk—about Simon’s next movie, more improvements to Baxter’s Victorian and Gail’s new PR clients. Callie listened to what she could. But it wasn’t long before she had to give up and rest. She wanted to speak, especially when she heard her father murmur something to Simon, and Simon responded with, “No word yet.” She worried that they were doing exactly what she’d told Baxter she didn’t want them to—using Simon’s power and influence to put her ahead of everyone else who needed a liver transplant.
But there was nothing she could do about it, even if they were. At the moment, she was too weak to say a word.
* * *
The farm wasn’t the same without Callie. Levi showered and ate and slept there when he wasn’t at the hospital. He also fed and cared for Rifle, since her parents weren’t up to it. But he wanted her back home, wanted another chance at what they’d had. He certainly had other problems to work through, but he couldn’t address them, or anything else, until he knew what was going to happen to Callie.
“Hey, boy.” Sitting down on the porch with Rifle, he stared at the damaged barn. He wanted to rebuild it. He wanted to paint the chicken coop, too. There was so much to do here. Her garden was getting ruined since he hadn’t been around to care for it. He hated the thought of that, especially because she’d put so much work into it.
“I don’t know if she’s going to survive,” he confided to the dog.
It was such a hot day. Rifle seemed to be feeling the heat. He panted as he rested his muzzle on Levi’s lap.
“She’s getting worse,” Levi told him. “I can see it every day, almost every hour.” He squinted into the distance, not wanting to face the truth but unable to escape it. “The doctors are doing everything they can, but it’s not enough.”
Rifle whined, and Levi toyed with his ears, wondering what would happen to him and the dog when this was all over. Callie provided the foundation they both needed, somehow brought sense and order to their worlds.
They shared a few minutes of commiseration. Then Callie’s cell phone went off. Her parents had insisted Levi take it so they could stay in touch.
His heart in his throat, Levi dug the phone out of his pocket. Even Rifle seemed agitated. He sat up and barked as Levi frowned at the display. It was her parents, all right. The screen read Daddy and had a picture of her father.
Although they’d asked him to carry her phone, they’d never actually tried to reach him on it. They wouldn’t be calling him now unless something had changed. That meant one of two things.
Levi feared he knew which one it had to be. Callie’s doctor hadn’t given them much hope.
Closing his eyes, he said a brief prayer. He’d never been a religious man, but he’d said a lot of prayers in the past few days. Then, standing, he punched the talk button. “Hello?”
Her father was crying. He could barely talk.
Was Callie gone?
Levi’s stomach twisted at the sound of Boone’s broken words. Until they began to make sense....
“They have a liver,” he said. “It’s on its way to the hospital from Southern California. Get over here as soon as possible. They’ll be taking her into surgery the moment it arrives.”
28
When the surgery had lasted fourteen hours, Levi grew so anxious he could only pace. The doctor had said it would take ten to twelve, so he’d been expecting a lengthy wait, but the extra time frightened him, made him wonder if something had gone wrong. Had the liver been damaged in transport? Was Callie holding up? What was taking so damn long?
The doctor hadn’t had a chance to explain the procedure to him in detail. By the time he arrived, they were well into getting her prepped. But her parents knew all about it. They told him and her other friends that the doctor would make an incision in her abdomen, detach her liver from the blood vessels and common bile duct and clamp them off. Then they’d remove her liver and attach the donor liver. If necessary, they’d also put in a few temporary tubes to drain blood and excess fluids and check bile production. Provided all went well, she’d go to the anesthesia recovery area after surgery and then back to intensive care until she stabilized. After that they’d take out her breathing tube and catheter and, although she’d be carefully monitored to make sure her body didn’t reject the new liver, she’d likely get to recover in a regular hospital room. After a week or so, if all went well, she’d be released.
“Do you think we should be worried?” Diana murmured to Boone. There’d been a lot of talking at first. Callie had a huge crowd waiting to hear how the surgery went. But in the past hour they’d all fallen silent. Of course, it was after six in the morning. Most of them, including Levi, had been up for twenty-four hours. That meant the doctor had been up a long time, too....