Chapter 1 No Longer Waiting

Piper was curled up in my arms, her little hands clutching the collar of my shirt.

Sawyer stood in the hallway, talking on the phone. I could hear every word through the door.

"We got the initial screening results. Several markers matched, and the doctor says we can move on to the next step."

It was Juliet on the other end. "Sawyer, you have to save Tatum. He's only eight years old."

I carried Piper toward the door.

As I passed Sawyer, he reached out to stop me. "Don't leave yet. The doctor says they need to do one more test to confirm the match."

"When did you take her in for the blood test?"

His eyes flickered. "Last Wednesday, during her school checkup."

Last Wednesday.

That day, Piper had come home saying her arm hurt. I had assumed it was from having blood drawn during her checkup.

She had pulled off the Band-Aid and shown me the bruise around the needle mark. I rubbed her arm for a long time.

"Mommy, the other kids only got poked once, but it took so long for me."

I had thought the nurse was just bad at drawing blood.

"You went behind my back."

"Would you have agreed if I'd told you?" he asked, sounding as though he had every right to do it.

"Tatum doesn't have time to wait. We've searched every donor registry we could find, but no suitable match has turned up. Piper is our best hope."

"She's your daughter, not a collection of spare parts."

"I know she's my daughter." He lowered his voice. "That's exactly why she should do this. Tatum calls me Daddy, too. He's been doing it for seven years."

Seven years.

…

Seven years ago, Juliet had shown up on our doorstep with Tatum, who had just turned one. She had cried and told us her ex-husband had abused her and she had nowhere to go with her baby.

Sawyer had let her stay for a week. A week turned into a month. A month turned into a year.

When Tatum learned to talk, the first person he called Daddy was Sawyer. Juliet never corrected him. Neither did Sawyer.

By the time Piper turned two and learned to call him Daddy, Sawyer was usually busy playing with Tatum instead.

Eventually, Piper hardly called him Daddy anymore.

On Piper's third birthday, Sawyer had promised to help her blow out her candles. The cake was on the table, and the candles were lit.

Then, Juliet called to say Tatum had a fever. Sawyer grabbed his jacket and left.

The candles burned out, and the frosting flowers on the cake slumped, leaving cream all over the table.

Piper sat in her high chair and sang "Happy Birthday" alone.

When she was four, her preschool held a family field day. Sawyer went to Tatum's school instead and joined his team for a three-person relay.

Piper stood alone at the starting line. When her teacher asked where her daddy was, she said, "He went to Tatum's school."

When she was five, she had a fever of 102.2°F. I called Sawyer, but he was at Tatum's birthday party.

"You're there with her, aren't you? Just give her some fever medicine. She'll be fine tomorrow."

When she was six, Tatum took the watercolor pens she had spent two months saving up for. She tried to get them back, but Tatum fell and started crying.

Sawyer slapped her.

After that, Piper never fought with Tatum over anything again.

…

Now, she was seven.

Her daddy had suddenly started picking her up from school, remembering that she would not eat cilantro, and reading her favorite fairy tales to her before bed.

She had been so happy.

She had worn her new hairpin and told everyone she met that her daddy finally loved her, but she had never been the one he loved.

I carried Piper to the car.

She asked, "Mommy, aren't we waiting for Daddy?"

"No. We're not waiting anymore."