The Old Man in the Club (33 page)

“Anyway, my point is: Don't live with regrets. Live your life.
Carpe diem.
You know what that means? It means: seize the day. Seize it. Take it. Own it. Make it yours and get the most out of it.

“Nothing is promised. Yeah, you've heard this before. We all have. But we go about a day as if it's no big deal to make the most of it because we can do it the next day. Or the next. That's not the right approach. I'm thirty-six. I got this disease from bad luck. If I knew it was coming, I would have done a lot of things I planned to do later. You and I have done a lot together and been as close as two friends could be, so I can say this to you without you getting offended: Get off your ass and live your life.”

Maya got it then. The fear and hope left her. Reality settled in. She knew, at that point, I was done. No amount of radiation, chemo, surgery, Tylenol or anything else could help me. My days had been finalized. It had to be about what I did with those days that mattered.

“Daddy, what can I do to help you?” she asked.

“Love me, baby,” I said. “Your love means everything to me. And pray for me. Pray that I'm able to make my last days here meaningful and fun and that I live them as if I'm alive, not waiting for death.”

My daughter cried. “I can do that, Daddy,” she said softly while hugging me.

We corralled our emotions after a while and I walked her to her car. “I feel so much better,” I told her, and it was the truth. I didn't realize how much of a burden it was not having had that conversation with her. I finally was prepared to live my final days, to “seize” them as my friend Kevin said I should.

Problem was, I didn't know how or where to begin. I actually did not have lofty dreams of travel or glory. I didn't have a “Bucket List.” I was an ordinary man with few extraordinary ambitions. I didn't like to travel much because I didn't like to fly and riding too long in a vehicle made me car sick.

I ate when necessary, but did not have exotic tastes. I had plenty of friends, but only Kevin whom I spent much time enjoying. I had but one vice: golf.

My first thought was just to play golf every day…until I collapsed on a lush fairway. Kevin would appreciate that. He and I were so close that we had become like brothers. For sure, we had a connection that is rare among people: I carried his kidney in my body.

When one of mine was damaged in a bad car crash and I needed a new one to avoid a life of dialysis, I was amazed by two things: Kevin was willing, without hesitation, to go through tests to see if we were compatible; and that he
was
a match. I had no siblings and my father's kidneys were not healthy enough to share.

If Kevin had any reservations about doing it, I never saw them. If there was any fear, I never felt it. And he never expressed any ambivalence about donating an organ to his friend.

For all I had done with and for him in the twenty-eight years we had known each other, there was nothing I could do to repay Kevin for his deed to me. And as I read his letter as I had each day, something occurred to me the way an idea comes to a prolific author: As a way of honoring Kevin, I would live out some of the things he never got to do based on what he wrote me in that letter and shared with me in conversations.

That was the least I could do, considering the kidney transplant allowed me to live fifteen years past when I was told I would die without a new one. Kevin saved my life. Doing things he wanted to do would extend my life, even if just for a little while.

ALSO BY CURTIS BUNN

The Truth is in the Wine

Homecoming Weekend

A Cold Piece of Work

Strebor Books

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

© 2014 by Curtis Bunn

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means whatsoever. For information address Strebor Books, P.O. Box 6505, Largo, MD 20792.

ISBN 978-1-59309-572-7

ISBN 978-1-4767-5871-8 (ebook)

LCCN 2014931185

First Strebor Books trade paperback edition June 2014

Cover design:
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Cover photograph: © Keith Saunders Photos

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