The Transplant ✔️

17. Healing Hands

Jolie's POV:

"No, no, absolutely not. I will not go to therapy alone!" For once a month for the past few months, my mother and I would attend therapy at Kay View Hospital, due to my doctor's recommendation. Recurring outpatients all attended the same meeting. The outpatients ranged from severe to minor illnesses, but we all had one goal in mind: to get better, and therapy was the doctor's way of keeping our spirits and our hopes up. I didn't much like therapy. Being in the hospital, even just for therapy, continued to remind me of my disease, so I didn't see the meetings to be therapeutic.

When I was told by my mom that she couldn't come with me, after always having her support, I was less than pleased.

"Jolie, I'm seeing a client and I cannot reschedule. I've already rescheduled last week for your dialysis."

"Maybe Emeric will come with me." I sat on the side of my mother's bed, watching her adjust her earrings as she prepared for work.

"Emeric has gone off to work with his band and won't be back until the evening. I've already made plans for someone to take you." She dug around on the floor for her suitcase, then stormed out of her room without telling me who was taking me.

I filled my mother out of her room to find out what she wasn't telling me.

"Who is taking me, then?" I wondered.

"Jobe Boston."

"Are you kidding me? Why did you ask him to do this for me?" My mother has gone completely mental! How did she even get his number in the first place?

"Jolie, I knew you wouldn't go if you didn't have someone to go with. I also called Candy, but the voice mail answered. You and Jobe are becoming friends, right, so there's no reason to be so upset."

"But I don't need you setting up play dates for me, Mom. That's a sure fire way to make me lose a friend." Mom abruptly stopped walking, knocking into me. That's what I get for walking so close to her.

"I'm sorry, honey. You know I'd love to be there with you, but I did the next best thing to what I thought was best. I can't stand being away from you when you go through things like this, but I have to make money at some point. Jobe is a good guy, and I really do believe he'll make today better for you." Wow, she has a really high opinion of Jobe without knowing much about him. Mom always had that wonderous nack for reading people, something I wish I had been gifted.

"Fine, I'm only going just this once without you. Next time, I'd like to know ahead of time if you can't make it that way I can find an excuse not to go." I was only joking...halfway.

Mom kissed the side of my cheek and clicked her heels on the floor as she walked to the foyer.

"Bye, bye. Don't forget to lock up before you leave for therapy. I left some cab money on the kitchen cabinet."

**

I hate to say I was trying to impress, but I found myself wearing the outfit Candy had picked out for me at the mall. It was a simple black top that clung just above my naval, and although this may seem normal to some girls, it wasn't for me. I felt like wrapping my body in a cardigan, but resisted the urge. I also paired the top with black skinny jeans and red heels, a definite outfit that would be of Candy's approval.

I was a fool to try to impress others, especially an egotist like Jobe. I was never one to put much work into my appearance, so being so conscientious was certainly new to me. Worrying so much about my education, and my illness, had left minimal time for working on my outer self.

"What are you daydreaming about?" A husky voice called out behind me.

I stepped away from the column I had been leaning on and turned to face Jobe Boston, my hair flipping in my face as I did so. I had waited for a maximum of two minutes and was happy that he made it on time. I was expecting to have waited for a lifetime.

"Jobe, you didn't have to come. Please, this is so stupid and I apologize for my mother. She had no right to call you." I walked over to Jobe, as well as I could in these heels, so that we could talk without the interference of others.

Jobe was apoplectic, his eyes trained on me as I faced him. He swallowed hard, and he went to speak, but it was as of some unknown force awakened and put a spell on him.

"What's wrong?" Why was he acting so weird? Score one for me if he really liked my apparel.

I had never gotten such approval of my looks, so maybe Candy could help after all!

Jobe also didn't look half-shabby, with his combed back hair and his five o'clock shadow on his pointed chin. He wore a plain white button-uo, but even such a bland shirt looked superb on him.

"Nothing, sorry, you were talking about your mom. I'm not going to lie; your overprotective mom calling me in the morning sucks, and the idea of sitting in therapy on those hard ass chairs from the hospital doesn't sound awesome either, but I'm here now. I'm not going to act excited about this, but I figured I might as well save you the misery of doing this alone. I know it has to suck for you."

I admit, his answer was a little harsh, knowing he hated being here, but I was happy he was being honest with me. He could have lied and told me he was excited, or worse, he could have lied and made an excuse to leave. Honesty was worth more than gold in my book.

"It does suck. The chairs are actually cushiony in the therapy room, but it is really hot in there. The air conditioner unit is broken." I told him as we went on our way.

"Yeah? Is that why you're, uhm, dressed like that?" He cleared his throat, looking down with a silly grin.

My cheeks flushed with mortification.

"I felt like wearing it, that's all. Anything wrong?" I licked my lips.

I dare him to call me ugly; I will slap a boy right here.

"No, it's nice. But sweatpants are also just as nice." He winked.

I know it was an innocent wink, but it could have started fires in my soul.

I was glad there wasn't enough time for a reply because we had entered to meeting area. The meeting had already begun, and all eyes didn't fail to land on us as we went in.

We took our seats in the back in a brisk fashion, not wanting to draw any more attention.

We listened as the speaker introduced the group.

"I thought you've been to meetings before. Why are they introducing themselves?" Jobe couldn't help but whisper during the session, which didn't surprise me. Mom usually had a fit of the mouth too while she was here.

"It's like this at every meeting. We introduce ourselves every time, then we discuss our illnesses and the process of healing." I rolled my eyes at my own words. Jobe and I had to hold back our laughs at how ridiculous this sounded.

"And you never skip a meeting? Doesn't it get boring? There's no way if I were sick, I'd be sitting in here feeling miserable." He whispered.

"Mom wants me to come to every meeting, and it makes her feel better that I want to participate instead of moping around. I don't like to disappoint." I said.

"But you have to worry about yourself sometimes. This place is awful." He grunted.

"You can leave if it's boring you. It's not like I have anywhere else to go." I continued to face the front and not dare look at Jobe. I didn't want to get kicked out for speaking while others were speaking.

"It's not like that; it's not about me, if that's what you think. I can tell this place is boring you. If you want to stay here, I'll stay here too and won't say another word. But I do have somewhere else we can go other than here, if you're interested. Don't worry about what your mom wants for once and tell me if you want to do something that won't disappoint you. No one will even notice we left."

I should stay here and continue my therapy and be a good girl. Yes, that's what I will choose.

"What do you have in mind?"