I burst out laughing. “What does that even mean?” I asked as he shoved the phone back in his pocket, ignoring the text completely.
“I’ve learned not to ask with Henry,” he replied, using a hand at the small of my back to usher me out the door.
“Levee!” Morgan squealed when I walked into her hospital room.
“Hey there, pretty girl. How have you been?” I replied as my heart wrenched in my chest.
Little wires still dangled off her body, but her nasal cannula was gone and her color seemed somewhat better.
Her mother stood from a chair tucked away in the corner and extended her hand for a shake. I hugged her instead.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I was thinking about Miss Morgan tonight.” I squeezed her blanket-covered foot. “So I decided to come up here and see how things were going before I head out of town for a while.”
“Wow. That’s so sweet of you. We weren’t expecting to see you again. I’m glad you came though. Morgan’s been wanting to say thank you for all of the Henry Alexander stuff you left at the nurses’ station.”
“Aww. That was no problem. Henry was happy to do it. I promise I’ll drag him up here one day. He’s not big on hospitals, something about the nurses not letting him eat all the red Jell-O,” I teased.
Morgan rewarded me with a giggle. “I made Henry a thank-you card. Could you…maybe…give it to him for me?” she asked nervously.
“Of course! He’ll love it.”
I laughed as she all but clapped in celebration.
“Mom! Get the card!”
“On it!” Her mom, whose name my frazzled brain couldn’t remember, smiled as she moved to the other side of the bed. “Where’d you put it, sweetheart?”
“I put it between two books on my shelf to keep the glitter from falling out.”
“Ohhhhh, Henry loves glitter,” I exaggerated with wide eyes.
That time, she actually did clap.
Her mother laughed as she walked to the other side of the room. My eyes found her destination even before she did.
A familiar hollowed-out guitar filled with books leaned against the wall.
“Where… How…” I gasped as my heart pounded in my chest. “Is that a guitar bookshelf?” I asked as if it were an oasis in the desert that only I could see.
“Yep,” Morgan chirped from her bed behind me.
I stood frozen in the middle of the room, but for the way my chest ached, I might as well have been transported back to the top of the bridge.
“Oh God,” I breathed.
“Pretty cool, huh. My uncle Sam made it for me,” Morgan prattled on, oblivious to my impending emotional breakdown.
“Levee,” her mother called, forcing me to drag my attention away from the guitar. “Everything okay?”
“Did…um…Sam Rivers happen to make that?”
“Yeah. Jeez. That little punk must be doing better than I thought for you to recognize one of his pieces.”
“Actually…I know him. He showed me a picture of that bookcase on his phone once.” I cleared my throat to keep the quiver out of my voice.
“You know Uncle Sam?”
“Seriously?”
They gasped in unison.
I laughed to tamp down the tears I feared I wouldn’t be able to hold back any longer. Turning back to face Morgan, I pasted on a smile. “We’re… We used to be friends.”
“Cool!” Morgan exclaimed.
When my gaze shifted to her mother, her face was soft in understanding. “So…” I paused sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I’m about to sound really rude, but I don’t remember your name.”
“Oh, that’s okay. It’s Meg.”
“Sorry. I’m really forgetful sometimes.”
“No need to apologize.” She leaned in and whispered, “I’d way rather you remember Morgan’s anyway.”
“So, Meg, is Sam your brother?”
“Oh, God, no. He’s my little brother Ryan’s best friend. I guess we kinda grew up together. I’ve known that kid since he was a pimple-faced geek.”
I couldn’t imagine Sam ever looking anything but gorgeous, and disbelief must have read on my face.