Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Callie

They say before you die, your life flashes before your eyes, but what about when it's your child? What if it's a child you've missed out on so much with because you couldn't get your life on track?

I slide down the wall, facing his room. The doctors made me leave, and I'm now holding the phone to my ear as I watch the door, hoping and praying he's okay. What if he isn't okay?

"What if he isn't okay, Eddie? I can't breathe?—"

"Just breathe, listen to the sound of my voice, and I will be there soon," he reassures me. I breathe in slowly as I listen to his voice. "Do you know the Counting Crows?"

I can't answer—the words refuse to form, and my throat feels like it's closed. He must understand and softly starts singing "Mr Jones". He keeps singing and my breathing evens out. I'm not sure how many songs he sings before he's standing in front of me—it's hard to miss his boots. He doesn't speak, he simply sits beside me, taking my phone and pulling me into his body. I want to believe the way it feels in his arms, how all my fears melt away —until my brain catches up and reminds me why we are sitting here.

Dane arrives at some point, and I hear the vibration from Eddie's chest as he talks, but the words are lost to me. My body hurts as my addiction tries to claw its way through my skin. It's not a feeling you would know unless you've ever been addicted to something—almost as if it's crawling through my veins.

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

The clock on the wall keeps ticking away. Time keeps moving on, yet I feel like I'm frozen in the moment and maybe none of this is real. The doctor walks into the waiting room and asks for Dane and me to follow him to his office. It must be bad when they take you somewhere private to tell you the news, so you don't break down in front of everyone. Like a robot, I follow behind the men, one leg in front of the other.

Step, lift, step, lift.

"Please, take a seat," he says, gesturing towards the chairs. His office is cold, almost as if he only comes here to tell people bitter news.

"Please, just tell me how my son is?" I beg. Dane takes my hand and squeezes it.

"Beau had a blood clot move to his brain and has suffered a major stroke. We've done everything we can, but he's now on life support and awaiting further testing." My heart sinks.

"He'll be okay, though, right?" Dane asks, and I stare at the doctor, devoid of all emotions.

"At this stage, it's too early to tell. We have the best doctors here, and we'll give you answers as soon as we have them."

"No, it's not true. He was fine—we were just talking. He can't be on life support. How does this happen?" I blurt out.

"Doc, just give it to us straight. What are the possibilities here?" Dane asks.

"He's in a coma, so now we test for brain activity and go from there. We hope everything will go back to normal. He could have slight brain damage or there might be nothing more we can do. It's really too early to say. I'm sorry I haven't been more help."

"Thank you. We'll see ourselves out."

I remember little from the last four days—except the doctors saying Beau had a blood clot in his brain. Now he's hooked up to all these tubes, and doctors have been coming and going as they run more tests. Eddie hasn't left my side, and being in his arms is the smallest amount of relief my body can get. I'm grateful he's here, because my first urge when I was told was to get a drink—that just one drink would make it all disappear.

How can everything be fine one minute, and then turn to shit? This is all my fault. He wouldn't be in this situation if I'd been a more stable influence in his life. I look at Eddie, with his head resting on my shoulder, and tuck his hair behind his ear. Even when he sleeps, his demons show on his face.

"Sorry," he says, sitting up.

"Don't be. You should get some sleep. I'll still be here when you get back."

"I won't be going anywhere. If you're here, so am I. You know I meant it when I said I want to show you how serious I am about being a better man, a man you deserve."

"You are a good man, and I'm lucky to have you. Few men would stick around, especially famous rock stars," I say, trying to lighten the mood a little.

"I'm famous?" he says. "Shit, does anyone else know?" He looks around the room. I slap him in the chest, and he laughs at me. Even though he smiles, it doesn't mask the pain—we both know it.

"What will I do if he doesn't wake up? I don't know if I can come back from that."

"I'll hold your head above the water, I promise," he says, and while I know he's being sincere, I don't know if he can.

"Callie, Beau's doctor is here to talk to us," Dane says, walking into the room. He's followed by the doctor, who closes the door behind them.

"I'll wait outside," Eddie says, standing from the seat.

"Stay, please?" I say, pulling his arm down so he sits again.

"As you know, we've run numerous tests and had other doctors here to give a second opinion," the doctor says.

"Second opinion?" I ask.

"Yes, Mr Diamond requested we fly the best in for another opinion on our findings before we spoke to you. He ran it past Mr Hart first."

"You did that for us?" I ask Eddie.

"I would do anything for you, and I didn't want Beau to have to wait for the best care. It wasn't to brag, but I have money and would spend it all right now to get you answers," he says.

"Their findings were the same as ours, and I'm truly sorry, but he has no brain activity..."

Everything goes blurry and my throat closes over—I can't listen to this. I run from the room, needing air. I don't know how I find my way outside, but even the fresh air doesn't help me catch my breath.

"Why him? Why not me? Surely, I've done enough bad things in my life that you should take me first!" I yell, looking towards the sky. I'm not religious, but why not me? Twice, I've defied death. Twice.

"Callie," Eddie says, touching my shoulder.

"Why didn't he take me?" I sob.

"I don't know. I wish I had some answers for you," he says, taking me in his arms and squeezing me as I cry.

"They have to be wrong. He's still in there somewhere."

"I had the best flown in. The doctors say all that you can do now is say goodbye."

"I don't want to say goodbye. I can't say goodbye."

How do you say goodbye to someone who can't say it back? How do you say goodbye to your baby forever? It's not "Goodbye, I'll see you in a few days," this is permanent.

Eddie walks with me back up to Beau's room. Dane is crying and Jaynie is just blank, expressionless. I stand beside Beau's bed and look at him. He looks like he's sleeping. I close my eyes tight and take a deep breath. Maybe, just maybe, if I try hard enough, I'll wake up from this horrible dream. But when I slowly open them, he's still there.

"What happens now?" I ask Dane.

"When we're ready, they will take him."

"Take him? Where will they take him?" I ask.

"To donate his organs," Jaynie says. "Beau had it all planned out for a while. He recorded his wishes for you both," she says, taking a laptop from her backpack. "You can watch it when you're ready."

"His wishes, what wishes?" I ask. I feel like I've been left in the dark and I'm lost.

"He's always been set on the fact that he would die. A few months ago, he started acting weird. As you know, he had tests done, and when he came back healthy, he knew he'd be gone suddenly. He has all his funeral plans done, and he wishes to donate his organs. Everything is in the video," she says. That's when I realise she's the only one who believed him. She isn't freaking out like Dane and me because she's had time to come to terms with this.

"I want to see it now," I say.

"Are you sure?" Dane asks.

I can see the worry on his face. He knows and so do I. Without Beau, I won't survive. He lived through my downfall, and I can see the relief in his eyes that this time he doesn't have to be in the crossfire. I don't blame him. Jaynie sets up the laptop and Beau's face appears on the screen.

"Hi Mum, Dad. I know that if you're watching this, I'm dead."

"Beau, say it in a nicer way, your passing isn't a joke," Jaynie chastises him in the background.

"Sorry, I've passed away. How do I even explain this? I know everyone thought I was crazy, but I want to make sure everyone knows my wishes. I have all my funeral details done and I've kept it all low cost, as I don't want anything fancy. If you speak to Larry at the funeral home just out of town, he knows what I want. Jaynie can explain why I want to use them. That way, in your time of grief— Well, at least I hope you're grieving me..."

"Beau, stop it," Jaynie says again from behind the camera. "Of course everyone will be grieving your loss."

"Sorry, Mum. I'd like my organs donated as soon as I pass. I don't want to be left hooked up to machines. If the doctors tell you I'm gone, please know that is what I want. I want people to have life because of me, a gift to another mother so her child gets to live."

"Turn it off," I sob, and Jaynie closes the laptop.

How can this be fair? Call me selfish, but he's my baby and I don't want to let him go. Though I feel bad for those other parents, he is mine and I can be selfish.

I walk over to Beau and hold his lifeless hand. I squeeze it, praying for him to squeeze back. "Please, Beau. Please squeeze," I whisper into his ear. "I can't let you go, not now. I need to tell you I love you, how proud I am to be your mum. Please..."

Eddie puts his hand on my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Callie. Dane and Jaynie have gone for a walk to give you some privacy. I'll wait outside until you need me," he says.

"Don't leave me, I can't have anyone else leave me right now," I cry.

He knows why I need him to stay. He doesn't say anything, he just sits in the big chair beside Beau's machines as I slip into the bed beside him and hug my boy. This will be the last time I get to hold him, the last time I can stroke his head, or kiss his forehead like I did when he was little. For a split second, I'm angry—why my son when there are so many bad people in the world who deserve this fate? I'm jealous another mother can take her child home because my son gave them their life back, and that makes me feel terrible. Am I allowed to feel those emotions?

I look over at Eddie and watch the way he looks at me. He doesn't look at the Callie everyone else sees, he looks right through my exterior and I feel understood. As weird as it seems, I feel like he can communicate with me with only a glance. The comfort I see in his eyes gives me a small amount of strength to say goodbye. I can only do this once, and I know that when I leave this room, it will not be pretty. I hope Eddie is as strong as he thinks he is, because I'm afraid he will see me at my worst.

There's a knock on the door and Dane slowly walks inside. He tries to give me a reassuring smile, but even he can't muster the strength to pull it off.

"Could I talk to Callie alone?" he asks, and Eddie nods. I watch as he stands and walks my way. The confidence he usually radiates has left his body, and his eyes are now full of sadness and fear. He leans over and kisses my forehead.

"I'll be waiting outside," he says, leaving Dane and me alone.

"We need to talk. I don't want to rush you, or push this, but Beau was very passionate about donating his organs?—"

"Can't this wait?" I say through my tears. His organs will still be there tomorrow; however, he won't be.

"That's the thing—a young man, not much older than Beau, needs a heart. Although the hospital can't give me any personal details, apparently Beau made all the doctors and staff aware that this young man is to have his heart. No one knows how he knew this kid would be a match, but he is, and he doesn't have another day. I want to honour his wishes."

I don't know what to say. If I say no and spend a few more hours with my son—who will not wake up—another mother loses her child, but if I say yes, my child won't be here for me to touch or hold for a few more hours. Isn't that what everyone always says they want when a loved one dies, just a few more hours? That's when it hits me like a freight train—how would I feel if Beau needed a heart?

"Tell them I'm ready to say goodbye," I say, my whisper barely audible.

"He would be happy you're letting him go, Cal. Beau really was the most caring and selfless person I've ever met besides you. It's where he got it from."

"I'm far from selfless—just look at my history."

"That wasn't you; it was your addiction. You really are a good person. Look at what you've done for Mr Rock Star, even though I know you didn't want to risk your sobriety."

"Can you do one last thing for me?" I ask.

"Anything."

"Come lie with us, just for a few minutes." It may seem like an odd request, but I need us to say goodbye in our own way before the rest of our families come and say theirs.

He manoeuvres his way onto the other side of Beau and takes my hand in his. "We will always be a family, we will always be his parents, and no one can take that away from our hearts," he says.

"In life, he was our son. In death, he is someone's saviour," I whisper.

Our boy will live on in all the people, his organs helping them, and knowing that gives me a sense of hope. Someone else will get to experience Beau's heart because that is the best part of him.