Read Online Clay by Jennifer Blake - Free Book Online

luxury. For a long time, it had been too painful. Afterward, she’d been too busy, too determined to make a living for herself and her daughter, too dedicated to making certain that nothing ever hurt like that again.
    It hadn’t, either, not until Lainey got sick. Then nothing else mattered. Nothing.
    As the coffee finished dripping, Janna filled the mugs and added cream to one, then picked both up and started toward the spare room. She was almost to the door when she heard her daughter from inside as she spoke to Clay. Voice serious, she was saying, “Sharing is important. My mama says so.”
    “Absolutely,” Clay answered. “Mine always told me that only people with no heart refuse to share.”
    “My heart is all right.”
    “Yes, I know, punkin. It was nice of you to share your cookies.”
    “I was just wondering.”
    “What?”
    Clay’s voice sounded wary to Janna, which brought a crooked smile to her lips. It showed he was beginning to take the measure of her daughter. But then she stopped breathing as she heard what Lainey said next.
    “Would you mind sharing a kidney with me? I mean, I know I’m only little, but a grown-up kidney would be all right because the doctor said so. Mama would do it, but her blood is all wrong. I’d only need one, so you’d be okay and not get sick like me. We would both be fine and stay alive a long time. It wouldn’t hurt so much, really. We could even be in the same hospital room, if you wanted. When it was over, there’d be no more mean nurses and doctors who think they know how you feel but don’t, and no more weird machines.”
    Janna gripped the coffee mugs she held until her fingers hurt, but she scarcely felt it for the hard knot of tears in her throat and the squeezing sensation in her chest. She had kept little from Lainey about the progress of her disease, had always answered her questions as truthfully and completely as she was able. Still, she hadn’t realized exactly how much her daughter understood of what she’d been told.
    Now she knew.
    She also suspected that the plea hidden behind her daughter’s oh-so-reasonable words was destined to go unanswered, just as her own appeal to the Benedicts years ago had received no reply; it could be no other way. But Lainey’s mother would not fail her, not now, not ever. Standing there with her eyes pressed shut, Janna vowed to do whatever it took to save her daughter. And to hell with what it cost or who got hurt.
    In the spare room, Clay was quiet. Then he cleared his throat with a rasp. When he spoke, his voice was carefully neutral. “My blood might be all wrong, too.”
    “I know,” Lainey agreed, “but I thought it might be right because your eyes are like mine.”
    “I’m not sure that matters. And I’m not at all certain your mother would like this idea of yours.”
    “Yes, she would. I heard her tell Nona that she was desperate to find a kidney for me because she couldn’t stand to lose me.”
    “Nona?”
    “My grandma. She lives in Mississippi with my grandpa. She goes to church a lot and prays all the time. But she made Mama mad when she said that God would let me get well if that was what he wanted.”
    “What did your mama say to that?”
    “That God might expect her to do something to help instead of just sitting around wringing her hands. So Nona said she didn’t want a thing to do with it,and Mama said that was all right, that she’d handle it by herself.”
    “She’s a strong woman, your mama.”
    “I know. But sometimes she cries when she thinks I can’t see her.”
    It was a second before Clay answered, then he said, “Does she, punkin?”
    “She doesn’t have anybody now, and she gets tired. But mostly, she’s afraid.”
    “Me, too, sweet thing. I don’t like sticks much more than you do.”
    “You don’t?” Lainey was quiet a minute. “It would only be a few. When it was over, there wouldn’t be anymore, or at least not too many.”
    “I see.” Clay’s voice