“Savvy?” It was Megan, sounding pitifully frail, but talking at last.
Savannah wanted to laugh aloud. It was one of those days. “Meg! Oh, Meg, it’s good to hear your voice. How are you feeling?”
“I’m sorry, Savvy.” The words were little more than a tormented whisper. “God, I’m sorry.”
“Shhh. You have nothing to apologize for.”
There was a pause, then the same wrenching murmur. “I’ve made a royal mess of things.”
“Are you kidding? You’ve been the victim of a vicious crime. You have nothing,nothingto apologize for.”
There was another pause. “You had such high hopes for me.”
“I still do. You’ll heal, Meggie. You’ll work all this out and put it behind you. I know that sounds simplistic, but life goes on. You’re a fighter. You’ve fought things in the past, and you’ll fight this, too.”
“You don’t know.”
“No one does. No one knows what you’ve been through but someone who’s been through the same thing. You’ll be able to talk with some of those people, honey. There are support groups—”
“No!”
“They’ll help.”
“They won’t. You don’t know. You just don’t know—” Her voice broke off, swallowed up by a thick silence. Then Savannah heard the first slow, soft sobs.
On the one hand, the sound was wonderful. Up to that point, Megan had been unable to release the anguish she felt. Crying was critical to her recovery. It was also a painful thing to hear.
For the first time that day, Savannah felt a weight on her shoulders. “Ahhh, Meggie,” she soothed, wishing she was there, “it’s okay. It’s okay.”
“I just wanted—I wanted—it’s your birthday.”
Tears came to Savannah’s eyes. That Megan remembered the day, after all she’d been through, touched her deeply. “Another birthday. I’m beginning to wish they wouldn’t come.”
“You should celebrate—not waste time—thinking of me.”
“Thinking of you is never a waste of time. You’re a very special friend. You always will be.”
It was another minute of soft crying before Megan said, “I don’t deserve you.”
“Nuh-uh. You’ve got that backwards. I don’t deserveyou.” And she meant it. Megan had always had a way of putting things in perspective for Savannah, and it was no different now. “Listen, I’m at Susan’s. As soon as she’s finished dressing, we’re coming by the hospital to—”
“No!”
“Just to say hi?”
“No!”
“But that would make our birthday complete.”
“God, no—tell Susan—I love you both—”
“Listen, we’re going up to Boston, but we could come by the hospital on the way back—”
“Savannah, it’s me,” Will interrupted distractedly. More distantly, he said, “Shhh. Okay, sweetheart.” Then he came back to Savannah. “I’ve got to go.” He hung up the phone.
Stunned and more than a little concerned, Savannah held the dead receiver suspended in midair before finally returning it to its cradle.
“I take it she’s beginning to come out of it?”
