“Which makes sense because Todd and Ray are buddies.” Bennie couldn’t put it together. She felt like they were on the right track, but missing too much information. “Do you think that Simon knows that Todd is friendly with Ray’s brother-in-law? That they play golf?”
“Probably. Simon is a family guy. He cares about families.”
“Then we’re reinventing the wheel, discovering information that Simon can supply. I know he’s at the hospital, but we need him in the loop. We don’t want to waste any time.”
“Right.” Mary frowned. “But I doubt we can get him here today. He can’t leave Rachel.”
“Then there’s only one solution.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“This way.” Mary led Bennie down the hospital hallway to the lounge, then went inside to find Feet sitting slumped in a chair, alone. His head was buried in his hands, and his back hunched over. “Feet?”
“Yo.” Feet looked up, his eyes glistening with fresh tears behind his Mr. Potatohead glasses.
“What’s the matter? Is Rachel okay?” Mary sat down beside him, followed by Bennie.
Feet heaved a hoarse sigh. “We lost the donor. She dropped out.”
“Oh no. What do you mean?”
“The donor who was going to give the marrow. They say she got in some kind of accident. I think she changed her mind.” Feet blinked his hooded eyes clear. His scraggly eyebrows sloped down, and his parched lips formed a heartbroken line. “I bet she got cold feet on account of, it hurts. The docs said it’s like getting kicked by a horse.”
“So what happens to Rachel now?”
“The docs gotta find another donor.”
“She stays here in the hospital, right?”
“Yes. But we go back to square one. They gotta make sureshe stays in remission.” Feet lifted his glasses to wipe his eyes from underneath, using his clubby fingers. “The longer it takes, the worse it gets. Every day she gets weaker.”
“Don’t worry, Feet.” Mary patted his arm. “They know what they’re doing. They’ll take care of her. This is the best hospital in the country.”
“I know.” Feet recovered, sniffling. “Your father and them went to get take-out. The cousins were sick of the cafeteria. You know how real Italians are about food. Simon’s with Rachel. Does he know you’re comin’?”
“Yes, I texted him.” Mary gestured to Bennie. “Feet, you remember Bennie, don’t you?”
“Sure, hi, Bennie.” Feet smoothed down his white shirt, extending a hand knobby with arthritis. “Nice to see you again.”
“You too.” Bennie smiled.
“Hey,” said a weary voice from the door, and they all turned as Simon entered the lounge, letting his expression show the anguish he must be feeling, as if he’d slipped off a mask. His clothes looked lived in and his face grizzled, as if he hadn’t shaved this morning. He pulled over a soft chair and flopped into it with a heavy sigh. “So you heard the bad news?”
Mary patted his arm as he sat down. “Yes, I’m so sorry.”
“What a setback. God, as if she hasn’t gone through enough. Now we have to start all over again.”
“The poor thing. What does she understand?”
“Not much, luckily. She can’t follow the countdown. She knows the date of her Transplant Day. You get a blue T-shirt and everything. But she’ll forget by then.” Simon rubbed his face, as stressed as Mary had ever seen him. “They’re trying to find another donor. We have to keep her on track. We don’t want to lose more time or our eligibility status.”
“You mean she has to stay in remission.”
“Right, and the chemo protocol is tough, she has to keep her strength up. Finding a new donor is prolonging the agony, literally.” Simon tried to shake it off, shifting his attention to Bennie, and Mary realized they hadn’t met.
“Oh, Simon, this is Bennie Rosato.”
“Your partner?” Simon blinked, confused. “I thought you were—”
