She rested her head on his shoulder. “He’s mine. Enough said.”
* * *
—
The past three months had been wild, the best three months of Lucy’s life. She’d arrived back in Redwood to a hero’s welcome from the kids at school. While she was gone, Jack had sent three hundred complete sets of Clock Island books—one set for each child at Redwood Elementary. Lucy spent the weekend doing interviews with national and local TV. Then on Monday morning, because school was out, she met with a local family law attorney who worked in conjunction with Ms. Hyde. It took two weeks—renting a small house in a safe neighborhood, filling it with furniture, leasing a car—but then Christopher was hers. She’d finally been approved to foster him.
Every day this summer, they’d gone on bike rides or to the library or for walks. Even roller-skating. And all the while, she and Ms. Vargas, the family law attorney, were working on Lucy’s adoption application. Every penny of it was bankrolled by Jack Masterson.
And Hugo thought money couldn’t buy happiness.
But the best part, though it was hard, was the first time Christopher had a tantrum over something Lucy asked him to do. She’d been waiting for that moment, the moment Christopher misbehaved with her. It meant he knew he was really her son, that she was really his mother, that he knew Lucy wasn’t going anywhere, even if he whined about putting his breakfast dishes in the dishwasher or refused to brush his teeth or pick up his LEGOs, which were literally strewn all over the entire house. Talk about a messy roommate.
“He’s driving me nuts today,” Lucy had told Theresa on a particularly rough evening.
“Congratulations,” Theresa had said, laughing. “Now you’re a real mama.”
There were harder times, nights when Christopher woke up sweating from old nightmares and crying for his parents. And there was nothing she could do then but hold him tight and talk to him or read to him until he fell asleep. Strangely, it was those hard heartbreaking nights when she felt most like a mother.
When the time came for Lucy to adopt Christopher officially, not only did Ms. Theresa and her whole family come, but Christopher’s teachers and his entire second-grade class attended. Even Mrs. Costa, the social worker, brought balloons for Lucy that said, It’s a boy. Lucy was happy to see her there. She’d been right, after all. It did take a village to raise a child. And Lucy was getting a brand-new village. Because that evening, Hugo stood before them in their rented living room and announced that, as a duly appointed representative of the Enchanted Kingdom of Clock Island, he was inviting Lucy and Christopher to become official citizens.
“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?”