“Can’t wait,” Sam said.
Mo was thrilled they were on board but their willingness was very confusing. It was so much easier than she had predicted.
“Did something happen that I’m not aware of?” she asked. “Did you guys already make up without me? Because an hour ago none of us were even speaking and you just agreed to stay friends forever.”
“Yup,” Topher said. “Just now on the pier, actually.”
“We happened to be in the same place at the same time,” Joey said.
“Yeah, we didn’t exclude you or anything,” Sam said.
Mo nodded approvingly and wiped away her tears. She had prepared an additional half-hour-long speech about why they needed to save their friendship, but she clearly didn’t even need it.
“Well… great,” she said. “I wish someone had mentioned that when I threatened to jump out a window, but I’m glad we’re all back together again! Now come help me off this ledge and give me a hug!”
Her friends happily obeyed. Just as they concluded their obnoxious group hug, a series of explosions came from outside the window and took them completely by surprise.
“What’s that?” Topher asked. “This is a good neighborhood, right?”
“It’s the Fourth of July, dummy!” Sam reminded him. “They must be launching fireworks over the pier! Come on, let’s go watch them together!”
The reunited friends joined a massive crowd on the Santa Monica Pier to watch the colorful show together. They had a lot more to celebrate than just their country’s independence. Their new devotion to one another suddenly made the future seem brighter than it had ever been. No matter what life threw their way, they knew they’d have one another to help them through it.
Halfway through the fireworks Topher felt another buzz in his pocket. He looked down at his phone and saw a new notification from CashCarter.com:
Wanted you to know I’m in Phoenix getting help. Hoping you guys can stop by on your way back. Said some things I really regret. 778 S. Grant Street. —CC
Chapter Twenty-Two
PROMISES
On Wednesday, July 5, the Downers Grove gang awoke early to begin their two-thousand-mile journey back home. After a very long and tiresome discussion, Topher persuaded his friends to add an extra hundred miles to their return route so they could visit Cash Carter in Phoenix, Arizona.
Seven hours later, the station wagon arrived in Phoenix and pulled into the parking lot of the Sunny Skies Care Center located at 778 S. Grant Street. Topher got out of the car and walked a few yards toward the care center when he realized he was alone.
“Are you guys coming?” Topher asked.
“We agreed to come to Phoenix, but we never said any of us were going to see him,” Mo said.
“He wants to apologize,” Topher said.
“Then he can send us a letter,” Sam said. “I don’t want to see him.”
“But he broke down the barriers between us, remember?” Topher said.
“He still betrayed us,” Joey said. “If you want to feel like a Good Samaritan, that’s great, but none of us feel inclined to do him any favors.”
Topher didn’t argue any further. The only reason Topher was compelled to see the actor was because he, too, had said some things he regretted. Getting a chance to apologize would be a relief for them both.
“All right, all right,” he said. “Here, take my keys and keep the engine running so you don’t overheat. I’ll try to make this quick.”
Topher left his friends in the car and walked up a stone path to the Sunny Skies Care Center. The lobby was very clean and decorated in light, relaxing colors. Topher spoke to a nurse at the front desk.
“Hi, I’m here to see Cash Carter,” Topher said.
The nurse typed a few words into her computer but nothing came up.
“I’m sorry, there are no patients here by that name,” she said.
“My mistake, he’s probably under Thomas Hanks,” he said.
“Oh yes, he’s in room 828,” the nurse said. “I’ll buzz you in.”
She hit a button on the counter and a large glass door gradually opened behind her. Topher’s eyes wandered around the lobby as he waited for the door. He noticed a large family sitting together in the corner with a priest. They were all crying about something and the priest seemed to be counseling them. On the other side of the lobby was another family who sat with a very old man in a wheelchair. They tried to talk with him, but the old man just stared off silently like he was stricken with Alzheimer’s.
“Excuse me?” Topher asked the nurse. “What kind of rehab is this?”
“This isn’t a rehab, it’s a hospice facility,” she said. “Now, you’re going to go through this door and make a left at the end of the hall and the room will be on your right-hand side.”