Megan. After some hesitation, Keely told her about the nurse at the hospital giving away Tripp's secret. “He had a heart transplant and never told me.”
“How exciting,” Megan squealed. “And romantic. He loves you with all his new heart.” Megan sighed dramatically. “Not to mention mysterious. I saw a transplant on Murder, She Wrote once.” A huge Jessica Fletcher fan, Megan knew every episode of the former TV show by heart. “This nurse's brother was waiting in the hospital for a heart, and when a patient died who’d signed to be an organ donor, the police thought she was responsible. But his heart and her brother's weren't compatible and that proved—”
“What makes hearts compatible?” Keely, gazing at the net heart over her dresser, wondered if she and Mark's were compatible or mismatched the way Megan thought.
“Blood type, size, and age are important, and as a nurse in critical cardiac care, this woman knew that, so she wouldn't have had any reason to let him die. So Jessica began to look for another—”
“Tripp couldn't have a two-year-old's heart then?” Keely didn't want to hear a rundown of the whole show. “Nor that of a seventy-year-old woman's?”
“Right. And Jessica discovered—”
“I wonder whose heart he has.”
“Would you let me finish a sentence, please?” Megan sighed dramatically. “I thought mystery was my bag and yours was romance.”
“It is.” Keely, laying her hand over her chest, looked at Mark's heart again. It was a faded reminder of the past, and it was time to live in the present. “That's why I wonder whose heart Tripp has.”
“It's his heart now, silly.”
Was it? Or did he love her with someone else's heart? Love. Keely became so engrossed in spinning daydreams, she barely noticed when Megan hung up.
*****
It was one of those lazy, hazy days of summer when Keely, Tripp, Devon, and Megan set out on Brookville Lake with her family's pontoon. Devon, with Megan's assistance, steered them to a quiet inlet where they planned to sun, swim, and snack until time to eat the picnic lunch they'd brought.
Keely took off her terry cloth cover-up and sat down on her oversized beach towel. Tripp, sitting on a bath towel he brought from Evelyn's cast a hesitant look at her before peeling off his tee shirt. A zipper-like scar stood out on his pale chest. He bent his knees and wrapped his arms around them. She understood now why he'd worn his shirt last time. “It's not bad,” she said softly.
He smiled and shrugged. “It will fade some with time.”
“Do you ever wonder whose heart you have?” Her question popped out.
Tripp’s face totally lost its color. “It's not something I like to talk about.”
“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked.” Keely slathered suntan lotion over her body, then offered it to him. “Your chest might burn.”
He shook his head. “I'll put my T-shirt back on in a little while.”
She lay down on her back, stretched her arms over her head, and sighed contentedly. Her two piece navy swimsuit stayed put when she moved. She'd wanted something skimpier but watching Megan's constant tugging to keep her bikini top up and bottom down, Keely was glad her mom put her foot down. She closed her eyes and listened to the gentle slap of the water against the boat. Today was perfect. If she had to die today, she would want her heart to go to Rosa. Keely fantasized a romantic day for Rosa lying on a pontoon deck, sorry her donor died, but grateful to live. “Do doctors ever tell patients who their hearts came from? If I were you, I'd be curious.”
“I thought romance was your thing, and mystery was mine.”
He sounded just like Megan, but to prove a point, she took his hand and batting her eyelashes, kissed it.
Tripp grinned. “That's more like it, and the answer is 'no'—they usually don't. Now, I think this Stephen King fan needs to cool off.” Seconds later, she heard the splash as he hit the water, and another as
“How exciting,” Megan squealed. “And romantic. He loves you with all his new heart.” Megan sighed dramatically. “Not to mention mysterious. I saw a transplant on Murder, She Wrote once.” A huge Jessica Fletcher fan, Megan knew every episode of the former TV show by heart. “This nurse's brother was waiting in the hospital for a heart, and when a patient died who’d signed to be an organ donor, the police thought she was responsible. But his heart and her brother's weren't compatible and that proved—”
“What makes hearts compatible?” Keely, gazing at the net heart over her dresser, wondered if she and Mark's were compatible or mismatched the way Megan thought.
“Blood type, size, and age are important, and as a nurse in critical cardiac care, this woman knew that, so she wouldn't have had any reason to let him die. So Jessica began to look for another—”
“Tripp couldn't have a two-year-old's heart then?” Keely didn't want to hear a rundown of the whole show. “Nor that of a seventy-year-old woman's?”
“Right. And Jessica discovered—”
“I wonder whose heart he has.”
“Would you let me finish a sentence, please?” Megan sighed dramatically. “I thought mystery was my bag and yours was romance.”
“It is.” Keely, laying her hand over her chest, looked at Mark's heart again. It was a faded reminder of the past, and it was time to live in the present. “That's why I wonder whose heart Tripp has.”
“It's his heart now, silly.”
Was it? Or did he love her with someone else's heart? Love. Keely became so engrossed in spinning daydreams, she barely noticed when Megan hung up.
*****
It was one of those lazy, hazy days of summer when Keely, Tripp, Devon, and Megan set out on Brookville Lake with her family's pontoon. Devon, with Megan's assistance, steered them to a quiet inlet where they planned to sun, swim, and snack until time to eat the picnic lunch they'd brought.
Keely took off her terry cloth cover-up and sat down on her oversized beach towel. Tripp, sitting on a bath towel he brought from Evelyn's cast a hesitant look at her before peeling off his tee shirt. A zipper-like scar stood out on his pale chest. He bent his knees and wrapped his arms around them. She understood now why he'd worn his shirt last time. “It's not bad,” she said softly.
He smiled and shrugged. “It will fade some with time.”
“Do you ever wonder whose heart you have?” Her question popped out.
Tripp’s face totally lost its color. “It's not something I like to talk about.”
“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked.” Keely slathered suntan lotion over her body, then offered it to him. “Your chest might burn.”
He shook his head. “I'll put my T-shirt back on in a little while.”
She lay down on her back, stretched her arms over her head, and sighed contentedly. Her two piece navy swimsuit stayed put when she moved. She'd wanted something skimpier but watching Megan's constant tugging to keep her bikini top up and bottom down, Keely was glad her mom put her foot down. She closed her eyes and listened to the gentle slap of the water against the boat. Today was perfect. If she had to die today, she would want her heart to go to Rosa. Keely fantasized a romantic day for Rosa lying on a pontoon deck, sorry her donor died, but grateful to live. “Do doctors ever tell patients who their hearts came from? If I were you, I'd be curious.”
“I thought romance was your thing, and mystery was mine.”
He sounded just like Megan, but to prove a point, she took his hand and batting her eyelashes, kissed it.
Tripp grinned. “That's more like it, and the answer is 'no'—they usually don't. Now, I think this Stephen King fan needs to cool off.” Seconds later, she heard the splash as he hit the water, and another as
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