Events moved quickly once Bernie and Serena were confirmed as a reliable match. Serena had already informed Henrik that AAU would be down both clinical leads if she could convince Bernie to agree to the procedure. After shuffling the winter schedules and calling in some expensive favours, Serena was able to convince Ric to stand in for the duration of their recuperative period until one of them was well enough to return to work.
The surgery was delayed a couple of days in deference to their respective workloads and to ensure Bernie was still healthy enough to undergo surgery. Her prior good health served her well and she was given the green light to proceed, not that she did so without objection. If it wasn't the matter of Christmas blowing in by the blizzard-full, it was work. If not work, then Elinor and Jason. Bernie was brimming with worries, not for herself but for Serena. Bernie had asked Serena more than once if she was sure about donating her kidney, to the point that Serena started glaring at her every time she sensed the question forming on Bernie's lips.
They spent little of their final shift before the surgery together. Despite the holiday cheer filling the halls, AAU was a busy ward in need of much preparation before the board kicked off its annual end-of-year efficiency assessments, and the trauma unit was likewise in need of a steady hand to keep it shipshape in preparation for its head's indefinite absence. Communication between Serena and Bernie on this day consisted of little more than glancing touches as they passed each other in the hallways and shared looks across the ward. Bernie's seemed to say more than usual, though they were no more comprehensible to Serena than they had been the week before.
They passed out of the Wyvern entrance on their way to their designated parking spots at the close of day, having braved a spate of collective well wishes from the staff on their way out. Bernie's shoulders were still hunched near her ears at being the caught at the centre of attention with her. They'd each left with a pile of gift-wrapped trinkets from Fletch and Raf and Lou. Sachets of home-baked Christmas biscuits. Christmas poppers from the lunchtime fete on Keller they'd been unable to attend. They had been thought of. Serena thought Bernie wasn't sure what to make of being at the heart of so many people's affection.
Snow descended in whirls from the dim sky, speckling them both in chilly flecks of ice. Serena, clad in her trusty fur hat was safe, whereas Bernie's hair glittered with snowflakes. Christmas music was being piped into the carpark over the PA system, lending Yuletide joy to the otherwise desolate space. Bernie hummed to Dean Martin off-key (Frank Sinatra, surely, she argued earlier, and been wrong). Their arms brushed as they walked. Serena's heart fluttered, a sensation she'd become accustomed to in the year she'd known Bernie. Bernie was the epitome of a heartthrob. Serena might have laughed if it were someone else's heart tripping over her.
They reached Serena's car first. This was where they'd say goodnight.
"Serena, are you su-"
Serena took Bernie's hand and with it the unlit cigarette trapped between her fingers. "I'm sure." I love you, I'm sure.
Bernie held herself taut for a moment before throwing herself at Serena in a passionate hug that took Serena by such surprise their cheeks collided. Bernie pulled back and smiled in her self-consciousness. "Sorry."
Serena held onto her. She could look at this face for the rest of her life. "Don't be." Never be. "Give my best to the kids?"
"And mine to Jason and Elinor." Bernie pulled her into another hug, this one less clumsy and longer-lasting, and intentionally bumped her temple against Serena's. Serena clutched her back, memorizing how Bernie felt in her arms in case she should ever lose her. "You're mad, you know that?" Bernie asked, her humid breath tickling Serena's ear.
"What's new about that?" She'd taken on an ex-army medic sent to usurp her and found a friend. More than a friend.
Bernie withdrew, brushed strands of blonde shed hair off Serena's black coat. "What are you doing, Serena? You already gave me half your ward."
"Yet almost none of the paperwork, I've noticed."
The sombre mood broke over them and Bernie laughed. She was searching Serena's face again.
Serena cut her off at the pass. "Don't ask me why."
"You sure you won't need that kidney for future booze cruises?"
"What's a bit less booze cruising when I could be complaining about getting old with you?"
Bernie's laughed a gain, a crackling, broken sound Serena couldn't decipher yet wanted to desperately. "That's the plan, is it? I've found you out."
"What can I say? When I make friends, they're struck with me."
"Friends," Bernie echoed in a nebulous tone. She dropped her hands from Serena's clothes in favour of her coat pockets. "I don't feel stuck. I feel fortunate and so lucky to have you as part of my life. I think I'd like to stick around a few decades more."
"That's the plan." She patted Bernie's shoulder when she'd rather kiss the uncertainty from her face. She couldn't do that. That wasn't the plan.
Bernie stepped out of the way to let Serena into her car and closed it securely behind her. She was dragging her feet. Bernie's parking spot was three down from Serena's, fifteen seconds' walk. Serena rolled down her window.
"What's bothering you?"
Bernie reached through to window to brush Serena's shoulder. More hair, perhaps, but Serena didn't see anything. She noticed Bernie seemed to working up the nerve to say something.
"Serena, I…you know how I feel about you, don't you?"
Serena tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. She knew what she wanted, none of which had any bearing on what was real.
"I mean, we're friends and…is that enough?"
Serena's muscles locked in their current position. She couldn't have fidgeted if she wished it, or run from this conversation as much as she might like to. She was here for the duration. Bernie was her friend and she loved her as a friend; the rest was stuff and nonsense. "If it's enough for you."
"Yeah, I mean, I just wanted us on the same page." Bernie hugged the folds of her coat around her. She shrugged, her expression tight, her eyes dark, on the wrong side of humourless. Reserved. Distant. Unreadable to the one woman who thought she had an inside line. Who thought wrong.
"The same page, I understand." Serena couldn't pull off a smile. Fuck. "I should get going."
"Right. See you in the morning?" Were it not for the cacophony of her pulse drumming in her ears, Serena would have thought she sounded doubtful. She chose to think otherwise.
"Can't wait. Good night, Bernie."
"Night."
Bernie exited the car park ahead of Serena while Serena pretended to check something on her mobile. Once she was sure she was alone, Serena blotted her cheeks with the back of her gloved hands and made the drive home, her hitched breathing disguised by the din of Christmas carols on the radio. Her children were waiting.
Dinner with her daughter and nephew was a balancing act of reassuring them she was fine and convincing herself. Not even the sight of their tree twinkling with holly and tinsel could raise her dampened spirits.
It took all her focus to hold up her end of this stilted conversation with Elinor and Jason. Jason was being perspicacious, per usual, asking as many questions about the transplant proceedings as he could fit between bites of lasagne while Elinor acted as though the entire affair was an inconvenience. Serena knew her daughter well enough to detect the fear colouring her distant behaviour; nevertheless, it would have been nice to be consoled for once instead offering the consolation. I can't even have wine. She could have murdered a cask of Shiraz on a night like tonight.
Sian was a late entrant to the proceedings. Fresh from court, she swanned into Chez Campbell using the key Serena had given her emergencies that had merely become an all-access pass for her oldest friend. All the better tonight since Serena wasn't feeling up to playing hostess.
Sian came bearing wine Serena wasn't allowed to drink and soul-fortifying hugs that were almost more than Serena could take in her present state.
Dinner continued at much as the same clip, except Sian filled the awkward silences with her commentary on the food, on work, on politics, on the university Elinor was attending for Drama—the alma mater of her second ex-husband. She knew the faculty well and, oh, the stories she could, and did, tell.
Jason had questions about that and Sian had very detailed answers. Serena missed her wine sorely, missed it less when Sian's borderline salacious bard routine made her children laugh so hard mulled cider spurted out of Elinor's nose and Jason gave himself hiccups. Her daughter shockingly hadn't minded her soiled blouse and Jason had leapt at the chance to look into the best way to eliminate hiccups. Water, it turned out in this instance, was the ticket.
Their meal wrapped up shortly thereafter and somehow Serena got away without having to talk about her strange mood or the events of the day with two of the four people most likely to worry about it.
Jason adjourned to his room to continue his research on the best methods for promoting recovery in organ donors. Elinor peeled away toward the guest room she'd shown little interest in until tonight. Serena didn't pretend she knew what her daughter would be getting into up there. She knew so little about the girl she'd raised that it only registered as a pebble thrown against her mountain of discontent.
Once they were left alone at the dinner table Sian switched to the seat nearest Serena, bringing with her undrinkable wine and sympathy.
"You look like hell. What happened?"
"Maybe you haven't heard I'm donating a kidney in the morning."
"You're supposed to look like hell afterward, not before."
"It's probably the withdrawal. I haven't had a drink in about a week." Since she'd been verified as a match, actually. She wanted to be ready whenever she got the okay from Bernie to proceed.
"There's a record. It must be serious."
"Please don't."
Sian read her expression carefully. "She doesn't feel the same." Sian had been the first person she told of her feelings for Bernie. Ric had been the second.
"She said she wants to be friends and wanted to make sure I was fine with that."
"Are you?"
I can be. She's one of the best friends I've ever had, Sian. I'm not going to throw that away over some poorly conceived crush." She folded her hands on the table to keep from fidgeting under Sian's close examination. "
"Right, if we're doing this, I'm drinking for two." Sian topped off her own glass and took a deep drink Serena envied. "Firstly, don't downgrade your feelings. We both know you're in love with her. I've seen you with crushes, I've seen you in love; you moon after her like you never have any other lover of any gender. Secondly, how did this conversation come about? This seems a mighty poor time to go breaking hearts. You could still back out."
"I wouldn't do that."
"No, because you're a good person with a highly developed—some would say overdeveloped—sense of responsibility. If I know that, I'm sure she does. Nothing you've told me leads me to think she'd hurt you intentionally."
"She didn't hurt me. She-"
"If you say 'set you straight,' I can't be held responsible for my actions."
"I think the horse has left the barn on 'straight,' I'm afraid."
"Rena, that horse has never met a barn."
Serena cut her eyes at her friend to find her giggling into her wine. Yes, Serena might have had the odd flirtation with female classmates in university, but none of her doe-eyed pashes had amounted to anything. Surely they didn't count. Surely?
"That got you thinking, has it?" Sian winked and gave her hand a pat. "Don't worry your head over it. There are plenty of eligible blondes in the Sainsbury's."
"I don't want just any blonde."
"I'll try not to be offended by that."
Serena swatted her with a cloth napkin, smiling despite herself. Sian knew all the shortcuts to Serena's laughter. Serena loved her for it.
"Oh, Rena, your poor heart. When will it catch a break?"
Serena got up to start the dishes. There wasn't any sense in her sitting here if she couldn't drink.
Sian followed after her, sympathetic. "Maybe you misunderstood."
"I don't think so." Serena braced herself on the sink and took a deep, cleansing breath. Inner peace. "It doesn't matter. I'm not doing this for the romantic comedy ending. I'm doing it because she needs it."
Sian hugged her from behind. "I love you. Jason loves you. Under all that youthful ennui, Ellie loves you. Your colleagues love you."
"I don't know about that."
"Of course you do, don't be ridiculous. They love you like a tyrant who forces them do their jobs—deeply and despite themselves."
Serena dropped her head in a slightly hysterical giggle.
"There, there. See, not to so bad. You're okay. You're loved all the way round. Don't forget that."
Serena rubbed her arm and sniffled, no tears. "I'll try not to."
After determining she was too sozzled to make the drive home, Sian stayed the night. She and Serena curled up under the covers of Serena's oversize bed and talked about everything except Serena's upcoming operation and Bernie's apparent rejection. They remained the camo-painted elephants in the room, of course, but Serena managed to laugh more than she thought she would with them lurking in back of her mind. Sian made it her mission to put a smile on Serena's face and she succeeded where most anyone else would have failed. Serena was lucky to have her, she knew. Very lucky.
The next morning came early for the Campbell household. Serena trudged from bed at Sian's prodding when her alarm sounded in the form of Bing Crosby's dulcet tones before the sun extended a single ray above the grey horizon. She stumbled through a bracingly hot shower and tottered through her morning toilette minus the time usually allotted for makeup and outfit selection. She dashed concealer under her eyes to disguise the dark circles and ran a brush through her hair so she didn't look a complete fright, but otherwise dressed like a woman going in for elective surgery—for comfort and convenience.
Clad in a warm jumper and smart but loose trousers over snow boots, Serena did a last circuit of the house to be sure everything would run in her absence. Alan would be coming over in the evenings to keep Jason company for the next couple of days. If her stay in hospital was extended for any reason, Jason would go to Alan's for the duration. Ellie had intimated she might be staying over without making a commitment one way or another. Serena had no illusions that her daughter would be on hand if she needed her, but she was grateful she'd come by last night and hadn't gone without saying goodbye in the morning.
Once Sian and the children, grown though they were, had consumed a quickly thrown-together breakfast of dry cereal and toast, they assembled at the entryway to start the day.
"Jason, you remember where you're meant to be meeting your supervisor?"
"At Pulses. We'll be taking the lift to the conference room together where the other porters will already be gathered. The training seminar is to last all day with short breaks for refreshments and lunch."
"Very good, Jason."
He nodded, accustomed to Serena offering him praise for being knowledgeable about his itinerary and other scheduling matters. "Should I go wait in the car?"
Serena rubbed her brow. In all her planning she'd forgotten she was usually the one to take Jason in to the hospital. She'd hoped to leave her car home to avoid a repeat of last year's car theft drama.
"Damn, I'd wanted to leave the car at home. Ellie, would you mind giving your cousin a ride to work?" She hated to resort to asking her daughter who tended to balk at the slightest inconvenience but Sian was surely due in court and Serena had scheduled a taxi to pick her up not long from now. Jason was unlikely to enjoy that experience without prior warning.
"I can take him," Elinor acquiesced, uncharacteristically mild in the face of what was admittedly Serena's oversight.
"You will?"
"If he doesn't mind coming with me," she added with an air of uncertainty. "My car's clean and safe, Jason. You can inspect it for yourself."
Serena regarded Jason carefully to see how he'd react to the unexpected alteration in his routine. He was in the process of scrutinizing Elinor's expression and body language. Though the cousins would likely never be close, they had tolerated each other well the night before, a process made all the simpler by her daughter's unexpected decision not to antagonize everyone in attendance.
"I would be amenable to that," Jason said at last. "Thank you."
Serena thanked them both for their cooperation. What she wouldn't give for more moments of peace like this.
"You're welcome, Auntie Serena."
"Of course, Mum." Elinor grabbed Serena in a vicelike embrace at the door. "Just come back, okay?"
Serena stroked her hair and rocked her gently side to side. They hadn't hugged like this in years. "I'm coming back. You'll see me later."
Elinor stood back to look at her. "Of course." She swung for teary-eyed bravado and hit it squarely. "I'll come visit after class. Love you, Mum."
"I love you, Ellie."
Elinor ducked out the front door, leaving Jason behind with Serena in the foyer. Sian pretended to take a call in the living room. Serena could hear her sniffling.
Jason held tightly to the strap of her messenger bag. She could see he was troubled by what was to come, by the odds, minimal though they were for a negative outcome. "There are risks."
"I know them."
"Auntie Serena, it would be troubling if something…." Jason eyes drifted down toward his plaid Wellies. "I would miss you. You are not my mother, I had a mother, but you have become vital to my routine. I would miss you like I miss my mother."
She wished she could hug him with the same fierceness she hugged Elinor; she certainly loved him with the same fierceness. She swiped at her eyes. She would be fine, she was sure, but having been in his shoes, she knew the pain of coming out on the wrong side of 'the odds.'
"I would miss you, too, Jason."
He cocked his head, a pensive frown stealing over his features. "I don't know if the dead miss anything. The science is unclear."
"I don't plan to die."
Jason nodded. "Please, don't."
"Everything will be fine."
More for him than herself, she wanted to be right.
Sian caught her in a one-armed hug once he'd disappeared out the front door to set off for work with Elinor. "I told you, Rena. Didn't I tell you you're loved? You'll have to start believing me eventually. You know I'm always right."
Serena hastily dried her face of the few tears that had escaped. "I guess that's my cue." She was due at the hospital by eight. It would have been at six but for transplants scheduled ahead of Bernie's.
"Wonderful, I'm driving you."
Serena checked her watch. Her taxi would be arriving inside the hour. "Since when?"
"Since I pretended to be drunk and spent the night." Sian had been a suspiciously coherent storyteller for someone who'd consumed two bottles on a single serving of lasagne and no garlic bread.
"Sian, nothing will go wrong."
"I don't care, I'm taking you. Get your bag."
Serena did as bid, retrieving her go-bag from the hall closet and gathering her coat. "Anything else, Nan?"
"Ungrateful brat that you are, your chariot awaits."
The drive over was composed of nonsense chatter about Sian's most ridiculous clients. The working mothers and the tyrant magnates, the eccentric, thriving shopkeepers and enterprising grandmothers that patronized Sian's firm in droves. She was never without a shocking tale to lighten Serena's burden.
"So she said, 'What he and his do with my lemon preserves is their business. I just don't want to hear about it!'"
"I can't fault her. That is not what 'external use only' means."
"Not nearly."
They both shuddered between peals of incredulous laughter.
Sian let her off at the patient-drop off point outside the hospital with a quick hug and a rub on the back. "You're going to do great."
"I will." Serena wasn't frightened. Anxious, not frightened.
"I'll swing by tonight. Knock 'em dead, gorgeous."
"Not looking like this."
"Always. Now shoo." Serena retrieved her bag and got out of the car. Sian left her with a backwards wave.
Today was the day. This was really happening.
Serena was being prepped for surgery within an hour of arriving at the hospital, just as planned.
She was shown to her cubicle by a nurse on Keller and presented with a gown to change into to wait for her surgeon. She was also informed there'd been a last minute change to her surgical team.
Once Serena had donned her gown, Ric entered her cubicle wearing Keller's customary plum scrubs.
"You're doing the surgery?"
"Try not to sound so shocked, I still know which end of the scalpel is up. You're a very important patient, only the best for our best this Christmas."
Serena was sceptical of the party line. "You're just afraid I'll try to sue the hospital again." Why else would the Deputy CEO be scrubbing in for what amounted to routine surgery?
"I'm covering for someone as a favour." He smirked. "But, the thought did cross my mind."
"All the waivers are signed, don't worry. I know I'm in capable hands."
"You're in friendly hands." She knew that and yet was still reassured. She hadn't undergone surgery since giving birth to Elinor by Caesarean twenty-one years ago and could admit she had a touch of nerves.
"Thank you."
The rest of prep proceeded quickly. The nurses hooked her up to the necessary IVs, and leads. Ric disappeared at some point, likely to meet with Bernie when she arrived at the hospital. Serena nodded off amid the monotony of waiting for things to get underway, lulled by the strains of Silent Night drifting over from the nurses station, only to wake when she caught Bernie's husky timbre just on the edge of hearing.
She would have liked things to be different between them, closer, more intimate, certainly with a great deal more kissing, but what they had was good. Being Bernie's friend and colleague was anything but a step down. Saving Bernie's life was a little bit like saving her own. That was more than enough to be getting on with.
Serena was taken into theatre first and it was there that one final, vital request came to mind. She brought a halt to the organ removal preparations just as she was about to be put under, while she still could. Ric signalled for the anaesthetist to pause administering the general anaesthetic to allow Serena time to make herself heard.
"Ric, promise you'll take care of Bernie for me." Aware as she was that he didn't need to hear it, she couldn't rest till she had his word. She wouldn't let him hear the end of it if he did anything less.
"We'll take care of both of you, Serena. I promise."
"That's all I ask. Okay, let's go."
His smile wasn't visible behind his mask, but it warmed his eyes and that eased Serena's admittedly irrational fears. Ric would handle it. She would have to trust him. "Count back from 100 for me. Can you do that?"
Serena nodded, difficult though it was to do from this position. "100…99…98…97…96…"
Darkness crept in softly, inexorable and then complete.