“That's my girl.” My heart flutters at his smile. It's better than any happy pill I could take. I know he's struggling with my emotions. I'm sorry for that, but there's nothing I can do. We're going to have to carry this together.

“I really need a toothbrush,” I say, running my tongue on my teeth. Yuck.

“I'll be right back,” he says, sliding through the door and coming back seconds later with a boosted toothbrush and toothpaste.

“Thanks, baby.”

“Anytime.”

Mom and Dad are laughing when Peter and I get back to the room. Flowers and cards are already arriving, and Aj called a couple of times, offering to come down. She says she's not coming until tomorrow, but I'm pretty sure she's on the way, judging by how distracted she was when I talked to her an hour ago, and the fact that I could hear highway noise.

“What's so funny?” I say, motioning for Peter to sit in the chair so I can sit in his lap. He does it, and I prop my feet on Mom's bed.

“Your father was just talking about our honeymoon. Did I ever tell you that on our honeymoon we got attacked by a family of raccoons?”

“Uh, no. Why haven't I heard this story?”

“Well, it was so stupid. We went out for a hike around the island and someone named your father forgot to close the door all the way. When we got back there were at least five raccoons tearing through all our food. I can't remember what you used to shoo them away.”

“It was that broken chair we had on the porch, remember?”

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“He was like a lion tamer, trying to get them to go out the back door. I'll never forget the way they hissed and ran around. Of course I was screaming one second and then laughing the next.” Mom starts to laugh again, and tears roll down her face. Dad gets up and does a reenactment for us, and I start giggling. Soon we're all laughing so hard we can't breathe. Well, except for Peter. He does make a really good effort. Gold star.

Dinner arrives for Mom, and Peter and I go down to the cafeteria to get some food. He helps me carry the trays back up and when we walk into the room, Tex and Viktor are there.

“Hey, we just thought we'd stop by and say hi.” They're holding hands and Tex has a strange look on her face. Like she's about ready to explode and shoot rainbows everywhere. Like she just saw a unicorn and got to pet it. I think I know what that look is for, but I really, really can't deal with that right now.

“I know how much you love your tulips, so I thought I'd bring your garden to you,” Tex says, gesturing to a bouquet of baby yellow tulips in a pink vase.

“Thank you, Tex. That was so thoughtful. Thank you for the card as well, and thank your parents for me.”

“I will,” she says, and her happy face falls for a second as she glances at all the tubes, wires and equipment Mom is strapped to. Tex doesn't do well with hospitals. They totally freak her out. I don't know why, because she's never had to stay in one and all her parents and grandparents are alive.

Viktor takes up most of the room. Today his wardrobe consists of black skinny jeans, which he somehow manages to make masculine, and a Pink Floyd t-shirt.

“It's nice to meet you, Viktor, although I wish it were under better circumstances. Still, I've heard so much about you and it's nice to put a face with a name,” Mom says.

“I have heard much about you as well, and I can see where Ava gets her beauty and her spirit from.” Mom blushes at the compliment. Yeah, he's that charming. Dad looks a little uncomfortable.

“Well, we don't want to intrude. I'll see you later, Ava. Nice to see you, Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan. I hope you get better soon. Bye.” Viktor echoes Tex’s sentiments and leaves.

Peter and I pull up another of the rolling trays, and we all settle in for a family dinner.

“I don't want to be rude, but are you adopted?” Dad asks.

“Yes, all my brothers are. My mother was unable to have children of her own.”

“Oh, I see. Was it difficult for her to adopt as a single mother?”

“She is a lawyer. She has ways of getting what she wants.” Okay, so the first part isn't true, but the second is.

“Are you sure you're not hungry? I'm sure there are plenty of gluten-free and lactose-free options.”

“I will eat when I get home. My mother is very strict about family meals.” Dad is clearly puzzled by the fact that Peter never eats with us, but he has other things on his mind.

“That fruit looks really nice.”

“I'm not that hungry,” Mom says. Understatement of the year. She's barely touched anything. She refuses to eat Jell-O, just like me. The texture of that stuff makes my gag reflex go crazy.

“Claire, you have to eat something.”

“I'll have some later.”

She puts her fork down and pushes the tray away. I glance at Dad, waiting for him to fight her on it, but he doesn't. He sits back and takes a bite of his burger. I munch my salad and Peter watches. We're quiet for the rest of dinner, and soon it's time for me to go home. Dad is going to stay until visiting hours are over for the night. I don't want to leave her, but I'm not going to have a hissy fit. It's juvenile and Mom doesn't need that. So I kiss her on the cheek and say I'll be back in the morning. She tells me to get some sleep and that she loves me.

“Love you more,” I say.

“Not possible,” she says.

I watch her face until we leave the room. I think I'm going to break again, but Peter is there to hold me up and keep me together.

“You're my glue,” I say when we get in my car. He puts me in the passenger seat without even consulting me. I should be angry, but I like this take-charge Peter much more than mean Peter or just-say-no Peter.

When we get to the house, Aj's car is already there. I walk in the door on tiptoes and flash the lights. “The good silver is in the china cabinet. Take it and go.”

“You know that silver is fake, right?” she says, coming out from the kitchen.

“How did you get in?”

“I can't imagine. Could it be the hide-a-key under that fake rock in the garden?”

I narrow my eyes. “How did you know about that? It's supposed to be a secret.”

“I have my ways,” she says, pretending to twirl a mustache. “I see you've got your shadow with you.”

“Yeah, we're pretty much a packaged deal. Right, baby?”

“Right.”

“I never thought I'd see the day when my independent niece would go crazy for a boy. You must be pretty special to keep this one in line.”

“He is,” I say.




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