The Wishing Game(87)

“He’s asking us if we want to move to Clock Island,” Lucy whispered into Christopher’s ear. “You think we should?”

He said yes. He said yes ten thousand times in a row.

The next day, feeling stronger than she’d ever felt in her life, Lucy called Sean and managed to have a short but civil conversation with him. She told him about her miscarriage, apologized for not telling him sooner, then politely said, “Never,” when he asked her if she wanted to talk it over in person next time she was in Portland. And that was that. Sean. Her parents. Her failures. Lucy had put her past and all its ghosts, real and imagined, behind her.

Almost all of them.



* * *



—

“Here we are, Lucy,” Jack said from the front seat.

“Thanks,” Lucy said. “I promise I won’t be long. Just a quick visit.”

Jack reached over the seat to gently grip her arm. He met her eyes.

“Take all the time you need,” Jack said.

“Can I go?” Christopher asked.

“Not yet. But soon, I promise,” Lucy said. “Stay with Jack and Hugo.”

“No,” Hugo said. “I’m going too. I’ll wait in the hall.”

Lucy could tell from Hugo’s tone there was no point arguing. She gave Christopher a reassuring smile, and she and Hugo got out of the car. They went through the revolving glass doors of the cancer care center.

“Where to?” Hugo asked as they reached the elevator.

“Third floor,” she said, stomach tight, voice small. A sign by the elevator read, No children under eighteen are allowed to visit patients.

Hugo hit the button. The elevator went up.

“You didn’t have to come—”

“Yes, I did,” he said. “Does she know you’re coming?”

“I told her I’d see her this week, but she texted back that she’d been admitted for some tests today.”

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.