Hugo asked the question she’d been avoiding thinking about. “Do you know how bad it is?”
“Bad,” Lucy said, shuddering. “She has maybe three months. Four months if she’s lucky. God, we wasted so much time.”
He said nothing, only took her hand and squeezed it.
The elevator stopped, the doors opened. Lucy found room 3010.
“I’ll be right here,” Hugo said. Lucy took a deep breath.
“It’s so unfair,” she whispered. “I just got her back. But you know that better than anyone.”
“I know.” Hugo kissed her forehead.
Lucy took another steadying breath and went into the room.
“Angie?” she said as she pushed aside the floral curtain that hung around the bed.
Angie was sitting up in a chair, a pretty paisley scarf on her head, a blue blanket on her lap, her iPad in hand.
“Lucy,” Angie said with a tired, happy smile. She set the iPad on the side table. “When did you get in?”
She wanted to hug Angie, but she had an IV catheter or some sort of port in her arm and was afraid to touch her. But Angie held out her free arm and Lucy took her hand. Her skin was cool and her hand too thin, but she gave Lucy a strong squeeze.
“Twenty minutes ago.”
Angie’s eyes widened. She pointed at the door. “Go. Now. Go away and come back tomorrow. I’ll still be here.”
Lucy ignored the marching orders and instead sat down on a spare chair in the room. “You have to stay the night?”
“With my medical history, they’re being overcautious,” Angie said with a shrug. “It is what it is. Now you go away right now and come back later.”
“I just wanted you to know we made it. You want me to give you a ride home tomorrow or feed the cats tonight or something?”
“The cats are with my neighbor. And I have a ride. What I want you to do is go out that door, get your son, and take him to Clock Island. And I want you to take videos and pictures and then send them all to me. And then I want to see you tomorrow and Christopher later this week when I’m home. Okay? Now go before I get really mad. You’re interrupting my reading.” She picked up her iPad again.
“I’m going.” Lucy raised her hands in surrender. “If you’re gonna be grumpy.”
Angie laughed but the laugh didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thanks for coming, sis.”
Lucy took her sister’s hand again. “I used to get so mad when they wouldn’t let me visit you in the hospital.”
“Lucky you. Now you’re old enough. It’s fun, right?”
“The funnest.” Lucy tried to smile, but couldn’t quite pull it off. “You okay?”
“I’m at peace.” She smiled tiredly. “So go. Shoo. I’ll see you soon. Please hug my nephew for me.”
“Will do.” Lucy started for the door, then remembered something. “Oh, Christopher gave me something last night to give to you. It’s weird, but he really wanted you to have it.”
“Then I really want to have it.”
Lucy opened her bag and pulled out a wad of blue tissue paper tied up with a shoelace. “As you can see, he also wrapped it himself.”
Angie took the gift from her, grinning as she untied the shoelace and tore off the paper. Under all that wrapping was a hammerhead shark toy, the same one Lucy had given him.
“He loves sharks,” Lucy said. “You should be honored. That hammerhead is his favorite.”
Angie held the plastic shark in her hand as if it were a priceless antique. Then she wrapped her fingers around the sleek shark’s small body and held it against her chest, at her heart. And right then and there, without any fanfare or ceremony or fireworks or tears, Lucy forgave Angie, and they were sisters, real sisters, for the first time in their lives.
Angie said, “Tell him I am honored.”
When Lucy went into the hallway, Hugo was still waiting for her. He stood up out of the chair and held out his arms. She went to him, and he held her close and tight.
“Don’t tell me it’ll be all right,” she said.
“Never,” he said. “I know better.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go home.”
By the time they got back to the car, Lucy had dried her tears. There would be plenty of time to cry, but not today. Today was Christopher’s day, not hers. As a mother now, she had to put her own feelings aside.
Twenty minutes later, they were at the ferry terminal.
“Ready?” Jack asked Christopher.
Christopher replied in a voice about ten decibels louder than necessary, “Ready!”
The air was warm and the sun bright, and the sky bluer than Lucy had ever seen it as the ferry carried them toward the island. Christopher and Jack stood side by side in the bow. Jack would point out something. Then Christopher would. When Jack put his hand up to shield his eyes to see a bird flying overhead, so did Christopher.
Hanging back with Hugo, Lucy had to laugh. “They look like grandfather and grandson.”
“They are.” Hugo smiled at her. “Have you and Jack decided what you’re going to do as his official sidekick?”
“We have big plans,” she said. “First off, we’re going to start a nonprofit to provide free books, backpacks, and school supplies to kids in foster care. Care packages postmarked from Clock Island. What do you think?”
“I think that’s one of the best ideas I’ve ever heard.”
“I think we’re going to call it—”
Hugo suddenly looked toward the front of the boat and held up his hand.
Lucy froze, whispered, “What?”
“Christopher, come here,” Hugo ordered. Christopher turned and ran to him. “Look.”
Hugo pointed out at the water where a single gray triangle cut through a wave before it vanished under the water again.
“Shark?” Christopher breathed.
“We have lots of them around here,” he said. “Never go swimming with a steak sandwich in your pocket.”
The ferry made its slow, steady way around the southern edge of Clock Island. Six o’clock, five o’clock, four o’clock.
Lucy pulled out her phone and started recording. Angie wanted pictures and videos. She would get them.
Finally, there it was, shining in the sun. The house on Clock Island.
“Home sweet home,” Jack said to Christopher.
“What? That’s our house?” Christopher said. He looked at Hugo, at Lucy, awestruck.
“That’s it,” she said. “Like it?”
The ferry reached the dock. The captain cut the engine.
“Tick-tock,” Jack said. “Welcome to the Clock.”
Christopher’s grin was wider than the sky.
Hugo got off the boat first and helped Lucy, who helped Christopher. All three of them helped Jack.
* * *
—
Christopher was amazed at the sight of the sharks painted on the walls and the ocean, of course, right outside his window. Then, while Jack was teaching Christopher how to type on a manual typewriter and feed walnuts to Thurl Ravenscroft, Hugo motioned Lucy out into the hallway.
“What?” she whispered.
He looked left. He looked right. He had one hand behind his back, which Lucy found highly suspicious. “Don’t tell anyone I gave you this. Jack’s publisher would drag me through the streets by my ear.” Hugo brought his hand out from behind his back.
A book. Not just any book.