The nurse at the front desk looks up, her eyes sharp. “You will keep your voice down and watch your language. People are trying to heal in this unit.”
Brett blusters for a moment, then goes to step around Dane. Dane shifts to the side, blocking his path, and for a second, I think he’s going to hit the man. Dane’s talked about it, after the fucker, even accidentally, hit his daughter, saying it would be a fair trade.
But Dane doesn’t draw back. Instead, he holds out his hand. “Mr. Sullivan, I’m Dane Rourke. I am in love with your daughter, and she’s in love with me. With the three of us. I’d like to get to know you. If there’s anything I can do to facilitate your understanding, I will. She doesn’t deserve to be cut off from her siblings simply for who she loves, and how she chooses to love them.”
He blinks at Dane, and I’m sure that last bit doesn’t land right. Brett Sullivan doesn’t seem like the kind of man who responds well tolove is lovemessaging.
For a long moment, it’s a stalemate. Angela stares at her husband, Nico and I stare at Dane. The two teens behind Lucy’s father take in the scene like it’s from one of those reality TV shows Lucy likes.
Then, improbably, Brett relaxes almost imperceptibly. Slowly, skittish like a wild animal, he reaches out and takes Dane’s hand in his. Brett’s voice is rough, low, approaching with caution. “…you sent the helicopter?”
“Yes. Lucy loves Auggie very much,” Dane says, shaking the other man’s hand a little too hard. “And we love Lucy.”
Therese lets out a little giggle, and her brother gives her wide,shut upeyes.
Angela starts to cry harder, and the teens move in to hug her. Brett, to his credit, moves to hug her as well. Then, reluctantly, he shakes both mine and Nico’s hands, too.
He’s relenting, but not fully. Not admitting his fault before, but perhaps ready to move forward. It’s something.
Good job, punk. I blink at the sound of Claire’s voice in my head and realize it’s the first time she’s come as praise, and not direction. It’s the first time I’ve heard her voice in a few days, actually. Now, she comes less and less frequently.
Which causes a mild sense of panic, but also… relief? Like, maybe she deserves to rest now, if I can let her go.
I did this of my own volition. I stepped in and started us on the path to resolution. Somehow, some way, I was ahead of both Dane and Nico in doing the best thing, socially.
The realization makes me feel at once gratified and also drained.
“Where is Augustus now?” Brett harrumphs, uncrossing his arms and turning to peer down the long, white hallway behind us. Gentle beeping crowds the space like the various stretchers, carts, and computers.
Surely, there’s no way she could have heard her father, but Lucy comes bouncing out of the room, her face streaked with tears, but happy.
“He’s—Auggie is awake!” she cries through a smile. Lucy bounces on her heels once, then turns and disappears back into the room.
And, completely ignoring the four-person rule, the rest of us hurry down the hallway, joining her.
Chapter 47
Lucy
“No, but seriously,” Auggie tosses a mini basketball from hand to hand. We’re in his bedroom, which is an eclectic mix of dirty laundry and sports memorabilia. One week out of the hospital, and he doesn’t look any worse for the wear. The only sign anything is different is his computer screen black, his phone turned off to keep him from getting on it, making the concussion worse. “Were you like, super scared?”
I push his shoulder, lowering my voice so our parents don’t hear, “Fuckoff,Auggie.” Then, a beat later, “Of course I was scared.”
A grin spreads across his face that looks so much like mine. He’s gratified by my answer, despite the fact that I know he was scared, too. He’d told me that on the court, then in the helicopter, he kept coming in and out of consciousness. And though he’d said it casually, I know it bothered him. That he thought, distantly, maybe he would die.
Something no fifteen-year-old should have to go through.
“Lucy!” my mother calls up the stairs. “Are you two ready yet?”
Auggie smiles again and stands from his chair, and I can’t stop myself from reaching out for him, worrying that he might just topple over. He looks fine, but hearingbrain bleedterrified me. Auggie feels fragile to me now, no matter how much he hates that I see him that way.
“Relax.” He rolls his eyes, sets the basketball on the desk, and turns, heading for the stairs. Which only makes me more nervous.
I come down the stairs, hopping one-two, one-two behind my brother, like I did growing up, then turn into the kitchen.
And the sight takes my breath away, just like the first time I saw it.
Dane, Cole, and Nico, in my childhood home. Cole is the only one who doesn’t lookcompletelyout of place, though there is a sense to him that he’s elevated from this shabby Midwestern house.
