She isn’t quite smiling, but she’s beautiful.
There’s a quiet knock on my door, and I look up as it opens, surprised to see Marley’s mom standing in the doorway, not wearing a pair of scrubs. She gives me a long look before finally clearing her throat and speaking. “She told me what you did.”
My eyes flick to the calendar pinned to the wall under my TV, and I see it’s a Wednesday. She’s supposed to have off today.
Uh-oh.
She walks to my bed, her eyebrows jutting down in the same way Marley’s do when she’s upset.
“I’m sorry,” I say, sitting up. “I—”
“She told me,” she says, her voice breaking. “It’s been years… To hear her voice again… Thank you.”
She hugs me, and I feel a wave of relief that she isn’t here to tell me she is deathly allergic to dogs or to stay away from Marley with my dream nonsense. Mostly, though, I’m happy that Marley spoke to her. “Uh,” I say as she pulls away, wiping her tears. “Does that mean you’re not mad about the dog?”
She laughs, shaking her head. “It’d be pretty hard to be mad about something that cute.”
* * *
An hour later, the whole crew comes over, my mom, Kimberly, and Sam crashing into my room, bringing bagels from the shop near school. They sprawl out across every available inch of space, and it’s still not enough. Sam ducks out of the room, rolling back in a few seconds later on an unused office chair from the nurses’ station.
I’m just starting to dig into my everything bagel with cream cheese when there’s a knock on the door and Dr. Benefield strolls in. “Perfect. The gang’s all here,” she says, pushing her glasses up onto her head. “How do you feel about giving us back that bed? We can get you out of here in the next couple of days.”
I nearly break my neck nodding yes.
I glance to the side to see Kim practically bouncing from happiness. I’m nervous she’s excited enough to bust out an entire floor routine right here, right now.
“Wonderful! First things first, we need to plan a dinner. With Marley,” my mom says, already making plans. “And I’ll try to settle down. I won’t, you know, be myself. I don’t want to be too much too soon—”
I stop her, shaking my head. “Be yourself, Mom. You’re great.”
She gives me a big hug, kissing my head, just under the scar. Her face grows somber. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”
I grin at her, shrugging. “I probably wouldn’t have believed me either.”
My mom turns to Kimberly, beaming at her. “And you, you little sneak.”
“Smuggling a puppy into a hospital is pretty badass,” Sam says proudly, freezing when Dr. Benefield raises her eyebrows in surprise.
“I’m not going to ask,” she says as she turns her attention back to me, a knowing smile on her face. “It’s all anyone’s talking about this morning,” she says, nodding toward the door. “I guess dreams do come true.”
I smile back at her. They really do.
43
The next day, Sam swings by in the afternoon, and the two of us stroll through the courtyard. His normally long strides are only a little bit cut short by my limp as the two of us slowly make our way toward the oak tree.
I pause, snapping a picture of the yellow Doris Days, adding in a HELLO before sending it over to Marley.
“Oh my God, dude, you’ve got it so bad.”
I grin at him, shrugging. “I do. Don’t you?”
But Sam doesn’t take the bait. Instead he pretends to hold up a phone, mimicking my selfie face.
I shove him playfully as my cell phone buzzes noisily in my back pocket. I grab it, accepting the call, fending off Sam while he tries to get to the phone.
“Hello. Hi. Hey,” I say as I wrestle him away. “What are you doing?”
“I’m at the park,” Marley says, her voice coming in softly through the speaker. “Playing with Georgia.”
“Can I see?” I ask, elbowing Sam again before he can say something stupid into the phone.
“Uh…,” she says, hesitating.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to—”
“No, it’s fine,” she says, and the call switches to FaceTime, her face appearing in front of the tall trees and grass of the park. She went to the cemetery to talk to Laura this morning and she seems to be holding it together. I study her face as she tucks her hair behind her ear.
It looks like it went well. I want to ask her about it, but…
Sam.
His head pops into the frame and he grins at her, waving. I shove him out of the way, smiling. “Ignore Sam,” I say as Sam pouts, peering at the screen, comfortably out of view. “What’s she doing? Lemme see.”
Marley flips the camera to show a few kids playing with Georgia in the grass by the park path, the tiny pup chasing after a tennis ball that’s way too big for her mouth.
“They’re so sweet,” Marley says offscreen as one of the kids scoops it up and they begin to play monkey in the middle. Georgia’s tongue lolls out as she zooms back and forth between them.
“Look at her go,” I say, realizing how much I missed that little ball of energy. “Are you there by yourself?”
The camera turns and her face reappears, her hazel-green eyes glowing in the afternoon sun. “Mom’s here with me. She’s feeding the ducks,” she says, a small knowing look passing between us. “Popcorn,” we say at the same time.
“Speaking of moms,” I say, casually segueing into it. “Just something for you to start thinking about. No rush, of course,” I quickly clarify. I’m still not quite sure what’s too much too soon. “My mom really wants to have dinner with you and…”
I stop, watching as she looks quickly offscreen, her eyes widening in horror, but not over the dinner prospect.
“Georgia!” she says, and the phone drops from her face. I see for a fraction of a second the ball bouncing toward the road on the other side of the path and Georgia bolting after it. Marley sprints after her.
“Marley! What’re you doing?” I yell, the scenery blurring around her legs, the phone still in her hand as she runs.