His Perfect Match. Elaine Overton

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      Liz simple watched the antics, trying to suppress her own grin. “And such a graceful winner at that.” She knew in her heart that she would gladly lose a million chess games for that laughter. Although, there was no need to try to lose. Marc was exceptionally good at the game.

      Ignoring her words, he poked his thumbs at his chest. “Winner.” Then pointed both index fingers at his mother sitting across the board from him. “Loser!”

      “You shouldn’t call your mother a loser, Marc.” A gravelly voice came from across the room.

      “Hi, Aunt Dee,” Marc was still grinning as his great-aunt came to the bed and wrapped him in a hug. “Mom lost—again. You’d think she would’ve learned by now.”

      “Learned what exactly?” Liz asked folding her arms across her chest, and accepting a light kiss on the cheek from her aunt.

      “I’m the master! You’ll never beat me.”

      “Marc.” Delia frowned down at her nephew. “Your tone is disrespectful.”

      “That’s okay, Aunt Dee.” Liz smiled deviously. “There’s more than one way to skin a cat—or a chess master.”

      Marc’s playful smile disappeared. “Meaning?”

      “Meaning, if your Xbox 360 ever goes missing—” Liz widened her eyes in a poor attempt to look innocent “—I don’t know what happened to it.”

      “You wouldn’t.”

      He looked so stricken Liz reached across the board and hugged him. “Of course not, I just wanted to bring you down a peg or two.” She leaned back and looked at him. “Did it work?”

      “Yes.”

      “Good.” She stood up beside the bed. “You need to know that in the chess game of life…Mom always wins.”

      “That’s because she cheats.”

      Just then a nurse appeared in the doorway. “Okay, Marc, the doctor’s released you. See you Thursday,” she said as she removed the needle from his arm and pushed the dialysis machine aside.

      “Thanks!” With a leap Marc was out of bed and headed across the room to the chair that held his shoes and coat.

      “Slow down, tiger.” Liz rushed over to help him into his coat, ever mindful of his thin arms that she knew were sore where the needles for his dialysis were inserted twice a week, leaving them visibly bruised.

      Marc crawled into the chair and waited patiently while his mother tied his sneakers. “Can we play in the snow when we get home?”

      Liz’s eyes widened as she glanced up at her aunt who only shook her head in response. Given the draining procedure he’d just endured Liz could not imagine where he got the energy to want to play in the snow.

      “Not today, sweetie.” She stood and pulled on her heavy winter coat. “How about we rent a movie on the way home, instead?”

      “No way,” he called over his shoulder already headed for the doorway. “Tonight’s wrestling night, right, Aunt Dee?”

      “You got that right,” Dee agreed, as the trio headed for the elevators.

      “Alright, Aunt Dee, I’ll meet you downstairs.” Liz glanced down an adjoining hall.

      She turned and headed down the hall, pulling on her winter knit cap as she spoke to the nurses she passed in the hall, realizing she knew them all by name. And why wouldn’t she, considering how much time Marc spent in this ward?

      Her bright, beautiful boy had spent over half his short life in and out of hospitals, and yet he managed to remain upbeat and optimistic. Most of the time. Sometimes the pain from the dialysis needles was so intense, even the most spirited people were brought to their knees. And Liz spent every treatment holding his hand and praying that God would somehow transfer the pain into her body instead of his.

      As she approached the end of the hall she passed through a set of double doors leading to the intensive care unit. She paused at the last room and lifted her hand to knock on the open door announcing herself, but the scene that greeted her caused her to pause.

      In the bed lay a girl not much older than Marc whose kidney’s had completely failed. The only thing standing between the child and death were the various machines that did the work her failing body could not. The mother sat in a chair, her head resting on the side of the bed, and across the room the father and older sister stood looking out the window. No one noticed her standing in the door. They were all distracted by their own fears and concern. They were on a death watch.

      Liz turned and quietly walked away without them ever knowing she’d been there. She had met the family through her juvenile diabetes support group, and knew of their daughter’s recent change in condition. She’d wanted to offer some words of encouragement. To tell them it would be all right. But she knew in her heart it would not be. Their child was dying and there was nothing they could do about it.

      There but for the grace of God go I. Liz felt a chill run down her spine as she approached the elevators once more. So far the dialysis treatments were working for Marc, but she knew all too well how quickly that could change.

      Of course he was on the waiting list for a match, but so were thousands of others, many of whom had more common blood types than Marc’s rare AB negative. They really only had one hope, one prayer and no idea of how or even if it would be answered.

      As she stepped off the elevators on the ground level there were Marc and Dee on the other side of the large open entry in front of the glass revolving doors talking to Pete the security guard.

      Even from across the lobby Liz could see Marc’s wide smile as he chatted happily and knew he was bragging about his recent chess win against her.

      She smiled to herself, remembering Marc’s laughter when he realized he’d won. Her only child was spoiled rotten, a poor loser, and she adored every inch of him. He was the sun in the sky, the axis of her world—and he knew it.

      In her most ridiculous moments she wondered if maybe she loved him too much. She could not even imagine a world in which he did not exist and yet, thanks to his disease, such a world was a real possibility. She shook her head to remove the morbid thoughts.

      “Hey, sexy lady,” Pete said as she approached, and grinned, revealing several gaping holes between his teeth. He has as many teeth missing as he has in his mouth, Liz thought, but she would never say it aloud.

      For all his useless flirting, Pete Daniels was a good guy and she would never intentionally hurt his feelings. Which is why she put up with his insistent come ons. They both knew he didn’t stand a chance in hell, and yet he didn’t let reality slow him down a bit.

      “Hey, Pete, how are you?”

      “Better now that I’ve seen you.” He winked.

      “I was just telling Pete about our game,” Marc said with a smug smile.

      “I bet you were,” Liz answered.

      Pete chuckled. “I’m surprised I didn’t СКАЧАТЬ