Tanya/Mary

“It was me.” The criminal delivered her confession with unwavering clarity. Her voice was resolute, manner calm and posture steady. “I did it while you were drinking coffee in the other room. Punish me.”

The detective eyed the crime scene. Three drawers pulled out to make a staircase. Someone had been climbing. The kid was too smart for that trick. She was covering for someone. Someone standing right next to her. “Tell me, if you did it, then why is your face clean, and his covered in crumbs?”

“I cleaned myself up.”

“Tanya!”

Tanya finally cracked. “Don’t punish him!” Drawing her little brother to her side, she wrapped her arms around him. “He’s just a baby!”

“He’s old enough to steal cookies,” said Gloria. Tanya stuck out her lower lip. “Tanya, I know you love him, but you can’t lie to protect Toby.”

“In my day, you both would’ve been taken out behind the woodshed.” Gloria scowled. Her mother-in-law, Connie, was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping coffee that had gone lukewarm. She tsk-ed as if she were observing the scandal of the century, instead of two preschoolers. “Children that lie and steal…”

“What’s a woodshed?” asked Tanya.

“Never mind,” Gloria said. “Why don’t you take Toby and go play in the backyard? I’ll be out there in a minute, okay?”

“What about the cookies?”

“Don’t worry about the cookies.” Gloria ran a gentle hand over the top of Tanya’s head. Tanya, her darling little girl. Chestnut red hair, eyes like a misty sea, a smile that still shone with innocence. All in a fragile little body that was dying every second it was alive. It’ll be all right, Gloria told herself. Everything will work out. Any minute they’ll call and…

“You spoil that girl too much,” said Connie.

Gloria had forgotten she was there. “I’m not spanking her for protecting her brother,” she said. “Her body doesn’t need the extra stress.”

Connie stared at the wall as if she hadn’t heard her. “Where is my son?” she said. “Why isn’t he home yet?”

I have questions too, Connie, Gloria thought sourly. Why do you always come over while Lewis is at work? Why don’t you ever have anything nice to say? Why was my kid born with polycystic kidney disease?

The cellphone in her cardigan pocket suddenly felt brick-heavy. When are they going to call?

The bedroom curtains were drawn, afternoon sun stealing around the edges. At the bed, Gloria pulled the cloud patterned blanket up to Tanya’s chin. “Now you have a nice nap, and in an hour I’ll-”

“What’s a kidney?”

Gloria nearly dropped the blanket. “What’s that?”

Tanya looked at her, sweet simplicity on her face. “What’s a kidney?”

Gloria always knew this conversation would come one day. She’d rehearsed it over and over again in her mind. That didn’t make it any easier. “A kidney is a special part inside of you that looks like a big bean. It makes your blood clean.”

“And mine’s broken?” said Tanya.

“I’m afraid so, Sweetie.”

“Is that why you gotta give me yours?”

“If the doctors say it’s okay, then yes.” How long can one blood test take? Gloria thought. It’s been four days.

“Can I ask Santa to bring you a new one after you give me your kidney?” At that moment, Gloria wanted nothing more than to scoop her up and never let go. “Don’t worry about my kidney. I’ll be fine.”

“Why is my kidney broken?” Tanya asked. “Did I break it?”

Now Gloria really did scoop Tanya up. She buried her cheek into the reddish hair, inhaling the clean, waxy scent of her No Tears Shampoo. “Sometimes kids get sicknesses from their parents.”

“Like when we all had the flu?”

“No, not exactly.” How to explain genetics and transference to a four-year-old? “When your aunt Libby was little, she had the sickness too. Daddy never had the sickness, but it was hiding deep inside of him, so when you were born you got it.”

“It’s a bad sickness.”

“It is,” Gloria agreed. “But the doctors are going to fix it.” She laid Tanya back down. As she stood over the bed, she imagined the monster inside of her daughter. Bloody, blistering sacs drowning her tiny kidney in their poison.

Dear God, I can’t imagine life without her. Please let the hospital call with the answer soon. Please…

The phone in her cardigan shook. Gloria snatched it out of her pocket. “Hello?” she breathed as she rushed out of Tanya’s room.

“Mrs. Seidel? This is the Saint Marina Hospital with the lab results.”

All of Gloria’s emotions, anger, anxiety, fear, came crashing out. “It’s been four days! You said you’d have it back in twenty-four hours!” She knew she shouldn’t be snapping at this kid. He was probably just a tech, fresh out of school. But the monster, with all its bloody sacs, was breathing down her neck.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Seidel, but there was a complication.”

“Complication?” Gloria moved away from Tanya’s door. “What complication?”

“You’re not a match. I’m sorry, Mrs. Seidel.”

It was as if the world around her shattered. “That’s not possible,” she whispered. “I’m her mother.”

“According to the blood test, Tanya is AB negative. You’re B positive.”

“But I’m her mother,” Gloria said again. How could this be happening? They had to take her kidney! She’d cut it out herself! Just take the damn thing and save her daughter’s life! Wait, Lewis! “What about her father’s blood test? Surely he-”

“Also B positive.” said the tech. “Neither of you are eligible to donate your kidney to Tanya.”

Lewis returned home from work at his usual hour. In the living room, he found Gloria splayed across the sofa. One foot nestled in a fuzzy sock rested on the back cushion. “Gloria, what the hell are you doing?”

She gave him a crooked smile. “Wastin’ away in Margaritaville…” she sang, lifting her glass in a mock toast.

“You are wasted,” Lewis said, gently lifting her up. “For one thing, you’re drinking a martini. Where are the kids?”

“Your sister’s house.” Gloria swayed. “Some people say there’s a woman to blame, but I know it’s my own…” A sob escaped her throat. Burying her face, she slid back down to the sofa.

Lewis sat beside her. “What happened?”

“You know why I’m drinking?” she said. “Because no one wants my kidney. I can do anything I want to it. So bottom’s up!” She started to take a sip, but Lewis slid his hand across the top.

“You’re not a match for Tanya?”

“I’m not a match…” She pushed on his chest. “You’re not a match. We’re perfectly matched by being matchless.”

“What did the hospital say?”

“Blood types all wrong,” said Gloria. “I’m B positive, you’re B positive, and she’s not.”

“Okay, I’m going to take this,” Lewis pulled the martini glass away from Gloria. “And get you some ice water.”

“Skip the water, keep the ice, and bring me some gin.”

“No.”

At some point, she fell asleep, face pushed into the linen cushion. Dimly, she was aware of Lewis holding her, guiding her up the stairs, then her world darkened again.

When Gloria finally awoke, she was on her bed. The nightstand lamps were switched on, casting long shadows across the room. Lewis sat beside her, his skinny legs pulled up as he scrolled through his phone. In university, when he had played midfield, the other players with their thick thighs and toned calves had nicknamed him “Ostrich.” It fit.

“We’re both B positive,” Lewis said as she rolled over. “According to this chart, Tanya’s blood type should also be B positive.”

“AB negative,” mumbled Gloria.

“That’s impossible,” said Lewis. “One of us would have to be…”

Despite the cottony sensation swathing her brain, Gloria lifted her head off the pillow. “She’s your daughter.”

“I know that,” said Lewis. “How could she not be? How many other redheaded PKD carriers do you know?”

“Just your sister.”

Lewis stared at the phone, flummoxed. “And yet…”

Gloria placed her hand over his. “What are we going to do, Lewis?”

“We’ll just wait on the donor list,” Lewis said. “Someone will-”

“There’s no time!”

A voice sang out from downstairs. “Hello? Where are you guys?”

“Libby’s here.” Uneasily, Gloria hoisted herself upright. She felt like she was floating in a small dinghy and a hurricane was a-comin’. “I told her to bring the kids back by eight.”

“Well then,” said Lewis. “Let’s put on smiles and go say hi.”

As Gloria walked down the stairs, gripping the railing as if her life depended on it, she could see Tanya near the front door. She had already dumped her Sesame Street backpack on the floor looking for something, small fingers combing through toys and stray crayons. Libby’s daughter, Mary, was beside her. Where Tanya was vibrant and chatty, Mary was shy and quiet. She was the same age as Tanya but already had glasses that took up most of her face. Right now, she was crouched down, sorting Tanya’s mess into clean piles.

Libby handed a sleeping Toby to Lewis, then embraced her. “How are you holding up?” she whispered.

“I’m not,” Gloria whispered back. “Do I stink?”

“Yes, but this is a judgement free zone. Stink away.”

She had known Libby before she knew Lewis. Libby had been her first real college friend, the popular yin to Gloria’s nerdy yang. Lewis, big man on campus, had only seen Gloria as another one of his little sister’s pals. At least for the first two years.

“Aunt Libby says you don’t feel well,” Tanya said. “So Mary and I made you this!” She held up a paper plate, bottom snipped off and sloppy with blue and pink paint. Someone had glued a googly eye on it and attached a tail. “It’s a whale!”

“Thank you, Girls! He’s wonderful!” Gloria accepted the whale with a smile, but inside her heart bled. She was worried about me, she realized. It’s all wrong. I’m the one who needs to worry about you. I have to stay strong. I can’t let you see me fall apart…

Tanya was looking up at her with those gray-green eyes. “Can I see Mary tomorrow? Please, please, please?”

“It’s a Saturday. We’ve got no plans,” said Libby. “We’d love to come over and hang.” Her face creased into a frown. “Unless you need some time to…”

Gloria squeezed Tanya’s shoulders. She should have as many happy days with her family as she can. Who knows how many days she has-

The thought was interrupted by a scream. Her own silent inner scream.

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” said Gloria. “We’ll make a fun family day of it.”

Mary suddenly tugged on Gloria’s cardigan. “I hope you feel better,” she whispered. “Maybe Uncle Lewis can sing to you, like Mommy does for me.”

“Maybe he can.” Mary didn’t say a lot, but she was sweet. Of course, I was pretty quiet too growing up. Quiet and shy…

Mary had run back to Libby. Sprinted, more like it. For a four-year-old, she sure moved fast. And…familiar? A memory popped into Gloria’s head, fuzzy and dim and hidden behind shadows that she couldn’t see past. Something…something about that gait…

“What’s Mary’s blood type?” she suddenly asked.

Libby pressed her lips together, thinking. “B something. I’ve got it written down in her records at home.”

From the open door, Gloria watched as Libby led Mary, hand in small hand, to her parked car. “Ostrich…”

Lewis had finished putting Toby in his bed, and now he stood behind Gloria. “What was that?”

“Have you ever noticed,” said Gloria. “That Mary has skinny legs like yours?”

Gloria tossed and turned all night, which was nothing new for her. She had been tossing and turning since Tanya’s diagnosis. But now, new intrusive thoughts disturbed her nocturnal anxieties.

She had been so focused on her family, on keeping Tanya alive, that she’d never seen it. Tanya was a redhead, like Lewis. Like Libby. Mary, shy little Mary, had soft brown hair, like her. Four years ago, she had held her newborn daughter and sworn to love her until her dying breath. Who was that baby?

“You’re out of your mind,” said Lewis. It was the next day, brunch hour, and they were in the kitchen prepping a charcuterie board. His knife whacked the cutting board as he sliced strawberries. “You really think my sister would switch our babies?”

“No, not on purpose,” said Gloria. From the window, she could see the children in the backyard. Toby was playing with one of his trucks. Tanya was dancing and Mary was trying to keep up. Connie was seated in the lounge chair like a queen. She had barged in earlier behind Libby and Buck. “Elizabeth said you were having a family day. I’m family.”

“Maybe it was a mistake,” said Gloria. “They’re only a week apart, you know.”

“Ridiculous,” said Lewis. “Tanya looks just like me.”

“And Libby looks like your twin,” said Gloria. “Lewis, the blood test. It would explain-”

“She’s our daughter.”

Gloria held his arm. “We need to know,” she said. “Her life depends on it, Lewis.”

The knife stopped slicing. “You’re right,” he finally said. “But she’s our daughter.”

Libby and Buck were enjoying sparkling grape juice when Gloria put the charcuterie on the table. Buck helped himself to a few rye crisps, which looked ridiculously small in his massive hand. Everything about Buck was massive. If someone had told Gloria he was the reincarnation of Paul Bunyan, she would’ve believed it.

Buck was big, but he was also quiet and gentle, like Mary. Maybe it was Buck that Mary took after. Maybe I’m making a mistake, thought Gloria. Maybe I’m just being an egotist thinking Mary’s like me and I’m about to blow up our family for nothing.

No, the blood test. The blood test doesn’t lie.

Libby smiled sympathetically. “You look better this morning.”

“I can’t believe neither of you are a match,” said Buck. “The lab must’ve made a mistake.”

“Actually, we wanted to talk to you about that…” Gloria looked at Lewis. His lips were tight. This was your idea, his face said. You do it. “Libby, what do you remember about the week the girls were born?”

She was eating a strawberry. “It’s mostly a blur. I was on so many painkillers, I could’ve had a conversation with Zendaya and I wouldn’t remember.”

“So,” Gloria spoke carefully now. “It’s possible then…”

“That I had a conversation with Zendaya?”

“That our girls were…”

Libby narrowed her eyes. “What are you saying, Gloria?”

“That neither Lewis or I are a blood match to Tanya. Biologically, she can’t be our daughter.”

Libby shot out of her chair, spilling the charcuterie. “YOU’RE INSANE!”

Buck tried to pull her back down. “Easy, easy!”

“Libby, I don’t think you did anything on purpose!” said Gloria. “But Tanya’s life is on the line! We need to find a donor now!”

“Fuck, Gloria!” Libby screamed. “You really think I mixed up our kids! You had a nice easy delivery! They cut mine out of me! I was so out of it that week, I could barely get out of bed! Mom had to-”

“Elizabeth!” Connie stood between the open terrace doors. “Why are you screaming?”

Looking at her mother-in-law, Gloria felt a bolt of electricity shoot up her spine. Suddenly she knew. “It was you…”

“What?”

Lewis stood, color draining from his face. “What did you do?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Libby was across the room like a bullet. She grabbed Connie by the shoulders. “Did you switch the girls?”

“Elizabeth, control yourself!”

“You tell me the truth!”

“I…” Connie’s steely gaze fissured. “I did it for you.”

Gloria’s knees buckled. Down she went to the floor.

“You’re my precious girl! I would do anything for you!” Connie tried to put a hand on Libby’s cheek, who flinched away. “First I watched that horrible disease take your father, then it tried to take you! I couldn’t let you live what I lived through, not with your own daughter! You have no idea what it’s like!”

“But I do!” said Gloria. “Thanks to you, I’m the one who’s been living it!” She stood. “Get out of my house!”

Connie looked at Gloria as though she were nothing but a gnat. “It’s Lewis’s-”

“Get out of my house!” Gloria yelled.

“You betrayed us all, Mom,” said Lewis. “Get out. Don’t ever come back.”

Connie sobbed, a snivelly, throaty sob as she shuffled out of the dining room. “I did it for you…”

Gloria thought she might actually faint now. Tanya, her precious Tanya, wasn’t hers at all. But Mary…

Suddenly Libby was holding onto her. “What are we going to do?” she sobbed. “What are we going to do?”

“We can’t tell them,” Gloria said. “Not now. The stress could kill Tanya.”

“What’s her blood type?” Libby whispered.

“AB negative.”

“It’s me.” Buck stood up and as he did, he towered over them like an oak. “I’m AB negative. I’ll take the test and if it’s a match…”

“Buck, you would?” Hot tears spilled down Gloria’s face. “You would give Tanya your kidney?”

“Why not?” He stuck his hands in his jeans pockets. “I am her…” He didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, silence hung over the room.

“Are we the betrayers now?” said Lewis. “Not telling them?”

“This is so fucked up,” said Libby, rubbing her eye.

“We’ll tell them,” said Gloria, moving to the terrace door. “When they’re older. When they can decide.” She could see Tanya and Mary in the backyard, hands clasped as they spun.

“Ring Around the Rosie!”

“Not so fast!”

At least for now, thought Gloria, she has the chance to BE older. Connie is sick, but we have one thing in common. I also would do anything for my daughter.