Then, unexpectedly, Marley’s arms wrap around her, too.
I look over at Sam, still collecting himself in the doorway. He ruefully shakes his head at me, giving me one of his lopsided smiles. “You really are the luckiest son of a bitch—”
“Sam!” my mom says, pulling away from Marley to scold him.
He flinches. “Sorry, Mrs. L.”
My mom stares him down for a long moment, then… Marley begins to laugh. It’s infectious, working its way around the room until we’re all doubled over, a new memory forming, real and wonderful.
42
Early the next morning, I look through my phone at the pictures I took yesterday. Georgia being cute as hell, running around all of us in the courtyard. Sam and Kim laughing as they sit at the edge of the fountain. And finally a picture of just Marley, the only one I have. A yellow rose is tucked behind her ear, little Georgia snoozing in her lap.
She isn’t quite smiling, but she’s beautiful.
There’s a quiet knock on my door, and I look up as it opens, surprised to see Marley’s mom standing in the doorway, not wearing a pair of scrubs. She gives me a long look before finally clearing her throat and speaking. “She told me what you did.”
My eyes flick to the calendar pinned to the wall under my TV, and I see it’s a Wednesday. She’s supposed to have off today.
Uh-oh.
She walks to my bed, her eyebrows jutting down in the same way Marley’s do when she’s upset.
“I’m sorry,” I say, sitting up. “I—”
“She told me,” she says, her voice breaking. “It’s been years… To hear her voice again… Thank you.”
She hugs me, and I feel a wave of relief that she isn’t here to tell me she is deathly allergic to dogs or to stay away from Marley with my dream nonsense. Mostly, though, I’m happy that Marley spoke to her. “Uh,” I say as she pulls away, wiping her tears. “Does that mean you’re not mad about the dog?”
She laughs, shaking her head. “It’d be pretty hard to be mad about something that cute.”
* * *
An hour later, the whole crew comes over, my mom, Kimberly, and Sam crashing into my room, bringing bagels from the shop near school. They sprawl out across every available inch of space, and it’s still not enough. Sam ducks out of the room, rolling back in a few seconds later on an unused office chair from the nurses’ station.
I’m just starting to dig into my everything bagel with cream cheese when there’s a knock on the door and Dr. Benefield strolls in. “Perfect. The gang’s all here,” she says, pushing her glasses up onto her head. “How do you feel about giving us back that bed? We can get you out of here in the next couple of days.”
I nearly break my neck nodding yes.
I glance to the side to see Kim practically bouncing from happiness. I’m nervous she’s excited enough to bust out an entire floor routine right here, right now.
“Wonderful! First things first, we need to plan a dinner. With Marley,” my mom says, already making plans. “And I’ll try to settle down. I won’t, you know, be myself. I don’t want to be too much too soon—”
I stop her, shaking my head. “Be yourself, Mom. You’re great.”
She gives me a big hug, kissing my head, just under the scar. Her face grows somber. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”
I grin at her, shrugging. “I probably wouldn’t have believed me either.”
My mom turns to Kimberly, beaming at her. “And you, you little sneak.”
“Smuggling a puppy into a hospital is pretty badass,” Sam says proudly, freezing when Dr. Benefield raises her eyebrows in surprise.
“I’m not going to ask,” she says as she turns her attention back to me, a knowing smile on her face. “It’s all anyone’s talking about this morning,” she says, nodding toward the door. “I guess dreams do come true.”
I smile back at her. They really do.
43
The next day, Sam swings by in the afternoon, and the two of us stroll through the courtyard. His normally long strides are only a little bit cut short by my limp as the two of us slowly make our way toward the oak tree.
I pause, snapping a picture of the yellow Doris Days, adding in a HELLO before sending it over to Marley.
“Oh my God, dude, you’ve got it so bad.”
I grin at him, shrugging. “I do. Don’t you?”
But Sam doesn’t take the bait. Instead he pretends to hold up a phone, mimicking my selfie face.