I be preparing for the worst?”
“Well, now, I can’t—”
“Darling, don’t put Dr. Forbes on the spot,” her mom said, interrupting the doctor.
The door to the examining room had opened so silently, Miah blinked seeing her mother standing there. Lina Mohairbi crossed the elaborately appointed office in this exclusive section of Chicago on Lake Shore Drive, touched Miah’s shoulder with affection and settled her tiny frame on the neighboring chair.
As the doctor repeated for Lina what he’d told Miah, Miah considered the pair, thinking it odd that though this man held her well-being in his hands, her mom could not bring herself to call him by his first name, as though she believed keeping their relationship formal somehow preserved or increased his surgical skills.
But Miah knew Elias Forbes was just a doctor. A better doctor in every way than that cold-blooded jerk at the neighborhood clinic who had treated her mother like one of the mannequins she used to dress in Macy’s windows—before becoming too ill—instead of a living, breathing woman who deserved compassion along with a diagnosis.
Thank God, Fate had stepped in and given them the means to afford this doctor whose credentials were impeccable, who kept his patient load small these days in order to pursue other interests, professionally and privately, in his spare time. She’d been assured he was the best surgeon for the job. Lina’s best chance of surviving. Worth every cent he was costing. But she liked what she’d seen with her own eyes, in particular his concern for her mother and his attention to detail.
Miah shoved a thick lock of long ebony hair from her cheek. “I was trying to get the doctor to give us an idea of how much longer we should expect before a donor comes available.”
“Well, now—” The doctor started once again, tapping the pen with renewed vigor as though punctuating the point he hoped to make. “That’s just it. We could have one tomorrow. Or next week. Or—”
“Next month,” Lina added. “Or the month after that.”
The doctor winced, and Miah’s stomach dipped. His dour expression confirmed her worse fears. Her mom was rapidly running out of time. Miah wanted to scream. Instead, she gave herself a mental slap. Panic would serve nothing. Only depress her mother. Frighten her. Stress her out. Weaken her ailing heart more. Miah had to stay positive. Upbeat. No matter what.
“Miah, Dr. Forbes is giving you his best guess. That’s all he can do. We knew from the start that my rare blood type was a factor. But on the upside, it also puts me on a much shorter waiting list. So, we’re going to live for today. Enjoy every moment we have together and leave the donor up to God.”
“That’s the attitude, Lina,” the doctor said. “At all costs, continue to avoid stress.”
Avoid stress, Miah thought with bitter irony. Six months ago, the clinic doctor had prescribed that very medicine. And as though he’d been predicting disaster on the horizon, stress arrived on their doorstep within days of the warning—striking like a tornado. But with the tornado had come the wherewithal to secure this doctor, and his care had managed to keep her mom stable through all of the heartache and all of the joy; even too much good news could bring stress.
No more extremes, Miah determined. She would see that stress stayed far from her mom in the days ahead.
“Oh, one thing more, Doctor.” Lina scooted to the edge of her chair. “Will I be able to travel overseas at the end of the month?”
“No, no, no.” He glanced up from her chart, shaking his head. “It’s out of the question. Not only should you avoid flying, you need to be near the hospital should a donor become available.”
“Oh, of course.” Her mom looked chagrined, as though just remembering the doctor had already told her this a while ago.
Miah wondered if the heart problem was cutting off or short-circuiting some of the blood circulation in her mother’s brain, affecting her memory a bit.
“Don’t frown, Me-Oh-Miah,” her mom said, teasingly calling her by the pet name she’d used since as far back as Miah could remember. “I’m not happy about missing your coronation and the royal wedding in Nurul either, but that’s okay. It has been an incredible and lucky time for both of us, darling. It’s no good to be selfish. To want more.”
But Miah did want more. So much more. She wanted her mother’s heart healed, healthy. But if her mom wasn’t going to survive, wasn’t going to be lucky enough to find that special donor, Miah didn’t want whatever time they had left shadowed by negativity. She covered her mother’s tiny hand with her own much larger one, feeling these days as though she were the protector, the parent, and forced a grin.
“All right. I’m smiling. See?”
“That’s better, darling.”
As the doctor wrote something more in her mother’s chart, Miah and Lina sat in silence, holding hands. Miah wrestled with the inner struggle that consumed most of her days lately. Last winter, she and her mom had been getting by paycheck to paycheck. Then the tornado had swept in, picking up their lives and spinning everything around and around, then counterclockwise, so that when the dust settled, nothing looked the same.
The unpredictable winds of change had dumped on them a golden rainbow, a key to utopia. Wealth beyond their wildest imaginings. Of course, there were conditions attached, but experience had taught her early on that most things in this world came with conditions.
Miah could still taste the desperation she’d felt just before then, and recall the desperate bargaining with God. She’d have sold her soul to save her mom. Fortunately, the required conditions asked considerably less of her.
She touched her engagement ring—a white-gold band with a three-carat diamond surrounded by emeralds on one side and blue sapphires on the other. Her betrothed said the ring was an heirloom, passed from his grandmother to his mother to him. No, Miah didn’t regret the bargain she’d made. It had given her options she’d never dreamed possible.
Her first priority had been this doctor.
Lina smiled. “At least I’ll be able to give my daughter away at her wedding tomorrow.”
Miah squeezed her mom’s hand. The arranged marriage—the main condition attached to the golden rainbow—would bring her a royal title, her own wealth, the incredible and new sensation of everyone treating her as if she were special, making her feel special. On the other hand, she barely knew her groom-to-be, and that scared her. She had, however, kept this secret worry to herself.
She glanced lovingly at her mom. Lina seemed even smaller than usual, frail. Her lips a bit blue beneath her pink lipstick. Even her hair, which had always been thick and black like Miah’s own, was thinning, graying. Her mom didn’t need to know about Miah’s misgivings. Couldn’t deal with even one extra burden. She needed to smile as she was smiling now, a Mona Lisa glow in her brown eyes.
Lina stood. “I’ve been afraid, Dr. Forbes, that I’d finally be joining my darling Grant, leaving our daughter without either of her parents to see her married. Or that I’d be bedridden, in which case Miah would insist on the ceremony taking place in my hospital room.”
“I would do it, too.” Miah gathered her purse and rose.
“Yes, I know. But I’ll be grateful if a donor doesn’t show up tomorrow to spoil your wedding.” Lina’s smile widened as she joked. “Day after tomorrow would be fine, though, Dr. Forbes. See if you can arrange it.”
Laughing, she winked at Miah, and Miah allowed herself to embrace the joy she saw in her mother’s eyes, that she felt trickling through her worry. Life had held so little happiness in the past, she still struggled with accepting the good things that had befallen them these past six months. She’d wake up some nights in a cold sweat, certain it had all disappeared because she’d believed in it too much, enjoyed it too much.
“Go and enjoy yourself.” The doctor held the door