Read Online Here for You by Skylar M. Cates - Free Book Online Page B

little about his parents. They’d been talking politics, and Brendan had shared that his father was ultraconservative. “He’ll offend all your liberal sensibilities,” Brendan had said, which was why Ian had pictured Archie Bunker in his head, instead of a smooth-faced, handsome father barely older than Ian himself.
    “And your mom?”
    “Homosexuality is a sin.”
    “Pope Francis says he doesn’t judge us, and I’d say he’s up there on authority for the Church. Doesn’t your mom know that?” Ian argued, but Brendan only shrugged.
    If there was a God and he did have a divine plan, Ian wanted to question it, because none of why this happened to poor Brendan made a bit of sense. Still, lapsed and doubtful Episcopalian that he was, Ian had gone to the hospital chapel earlier, sat on the hard wooden bench, and prayed with all his might for Brendan. He was a good person, a kind person. Ian had seen his share of nasty, bitter people, moving around like cockroaches, spreading misery, and yet it was Brendan, not them, fighting for his life.
    Another thing that made no sense to Ian was having parents who barely spoke to you, like Brendan’s, being allowed to decide everything. How he wished Brendan had a living will, something, to document what he would have wanted to do, but Brendan was so young, and like most young people, he believed time was on his side. Guilt washed over Ian. He was the lawyer here; he should have brought this up to Brendan, at least once. Ian had left the chapel, hands jammed in his pockets, trying to rack his brain for something, anything he could do for Brendan.
    As soon as the surgeon came into the waiting room, he spoke only to Brendan’s parents as expected, ignoring Brendan’s worried, frantic housemates. Perfectly normal procedure, perfectly understandable—yet it bothered him. It looked too late to be more than a spectator to the tragedy that was unfolding, and Ian felt clammy, sick.
    Cole had risen to his feet, like a fighter after too many blows, and Tomas had rushed up to the doctor, but the doctor continued addressing Brendan’s father.
    “I removed part of the skull. I treated what hematomas I could, but the damage was extensive, even worse than I feared. The parietal lobe is irreparable, even the frontal lobe….” He trailed off.
    “What does all this mean? What can you do next for him?” River interrupted, at last coming out of the numb trance he’d been in for hours and confronting the doctor.
    Tomas, who Ian knew studied nursing, turned away from them, shuddering with silent sobs. Marc, seeing Tomas, made a sound of agony low in his throat.
    “Yes, what does it mean?” Brendan’s father asked.
    “I’m sorry.” The neurosurgeon took a long breath. “I’m afraid it means we can’t help him. Once he stabilizes from the surgery, we will confirm it is brain death, but—”
    At that, Brendan’s mother made a keening sound, covering her mouth. She turned into her husband’s arms.
    “Can we see him?” his father said in a shaking voice.
    “Yes, I’ll send the nurse as soon as he’s in ICU. We will need you to sign papers to terminate the machines too. I’m sorry to mention this now, but you need to also consider if Brendan would want to donate his organs?” The surgeon paused, fingering his scrubs. “I’m sorry.”
    “No, I can’t.” Brendan’s mother shook her head adamantly. “I can’t decide all this!” She ran out.
    For the next few hours, she and her husband clearly argued and prayed and argued. She spent time alone in Brendan’s room. When she came out, she looked beaten. She linked her hand in her husband’s.
    “We are taking him off the machines.” Brendan’s father’s voice sounded firm, but exhausted too.
    “I’ll inform the staff,” the doctor said.
    “We’re putting it in God’s hands,” his mother said softly, tears in her eyes.
    “But no to organ donation. We don’t want our boy—” his father stopped. “We don’t want