“For what?”
“For not just telling me everything’s going to be all right.”
Eve paused in the act of fixing her lipstick. “Are you kidding me? It’s
As they left the bathroom, they saw Michael and Shane in the hallway, and Claire’s mother, and a doctor in a white lab coat with his name embroidered over the pocket. Claire hurried to join them, and Eve joined just a few seconds later.
“Dad?” Claire blurted out. Her mother took her hand.
“Your father is alive,” the doctor said. “He’s got a serious issue with his heart, and I’ve already spoken with Oliver to tell him we don’t feel we can give him the care he needs here. I’d like to transfer him to a facility in Dallas. They’ve got the best possible specialists and facilities to treat him there.”
“But . . . is he going to be—”
The doctor—not one she was familiar with, from her various stays and visits here—was older, tall, with a long, mournful face and graying hair. He wasn’t especially warm. “I can’t give you a good estimate of his chances, Ms. Danvers. I can only say that they’re worse if he stays here.”
Claire’s mom, who’d been taking it all in silently, said, “When are you transferring him?”
“Early morning. You’re welcome to ride with him.”
“I will. I have to . . . go home and pack some things. Claire—”
“Mom, if you want me to come with you . . .” Of course, Oliver hadn’t said
“No, honey, it wouldn’t be safe for you to try; we both know that. I’ll let you know as soon as we arrive, and I’ll call every day. As soon as we can, we’ll be back here. All right?” Her mother kissed her forehead and smoothed her hair back. “Stay here. Stay safe, with your friends. He’s stable right now, and I’ll let you know if you need to come up and see him. There’s no telling how long all this will take.”
“Can I see him? Before you take him?” Claire asked the doctor. He nodded.
“He’s awake, but ten minutes only. Don’t tire him out. He needs rest.”
“Want me to . . . ?” Shane asked. Claire hesitated, but shook her head. She didn’t think Shane would be especially restful for her dad, much as he meant well.
Her dad’s room was quiet and very white, even though they’d tried to make it more cheerful with pictures on the walls. He was lying propped up on the bed, playing with a remote control, and he looked better. Not well, but better. “Hey, sweetheart. Sorry I gave you such a scare.”
Claire laughed, but it tasted wrong in her mouth. “You’re apologizing? Next thing, you’ll be telling Mom you’re sorry for messing up the carpet by falling on it.”
He acknowledged that with a wry little twist of his mouth. “So, they’re taking us to Dallas tomorrow. I hear they’ve told us we don’t have to come back.” Her dad always seemed to see too much, Claire thought. Like he could see right through her. “But you’re going to stay here, aren’t you?”
“I don’t think they’ll let me leave, Dad.”
Her father took her hand. His fingers were warm and strong, and she was so glad to feel that, after holding his limp, cool hand when he was lying on the floor. “I want you out of here, Claire. I want you safe. I want you to get on with your life like you’d planned, go to MIT. It’s my fault you came here at all, you know; your mother and I wanted you to stay close, and . . . this is what happened.” He took in a deep breath. “You’re meant for something better. That’s what I was trying to tell you before. It’s what I told Shane, too.”
“You mean better than him,” Claire said.
Her father looked away. “I know you think the world of him, but he’s not the kind of boy who’s right for you, sweetheart. I know he’s got a good heart; I see it every time he looks at you. But he’s going to hurt you in the end, because he’s not the kind of boy who stays. I don’t want to see that happen. And I don’t want you to stay here for him and destroy your chances.”
Claire raised her chin. “I’m not, Dad. If I stay, it’s not about Shane.” Well, it was, partly, but she wasn’t going to say that
“Claire—”
“Dad, you’re supposed to rest.” She put her head down, her chin on their clasped hands. “Please. I need you to rest, and I need you to get better. I can do this. I know what I’m doing now, and I know it’s not what other people might think is right, or popular. But it’s right for me. I can make a difference. I can’t just run away. I want you and Mom out of here, and safe, and trust me, someday I’ll do all that stuff you talked about.”
He gazed at her for a long, long moment, and then sighed. “That’s my stubborn girl,” he said. “Come see me in Dallas. Promise.”
“I promise,” she said. It felt like good-bye, and she hated it, but she knew she couldn’t leave Morganville now. Even if Amelie wigged out and let her go . . . she couldn’t just
The time was up sooner than she expected, but a nurse came in and stood there, clearly waiting to hustle her out. Claire stood up and kissed her dad. “I love you, Daddy. Please—”
“I heard you, you know,” he said. “When you were talking to me, on the floor. You said,
“No, you’ll be one phone call away,” she said. “That’s not leaving. That’s just . . . transposition.”
She kissed him again, and then the nurse’s glare sent the message that her time was definitely, completely up.
She left the room feeling lighter, somehow; he’d looked better, and he’d sounded clear.
He was going to be okay. She could feel it, deep inside.
They were all waiting for her, all her friends. Her mom went in, after a silent hug and kiss, to sit with her dad.
Shane looked at her with those warm eyes that—like her dad’s—saw maybe a little too deeply. “You okay?” he asked her quietly, as he took her hand.
“I’m okay,” she said, and took a deep, trembling breath. “My parents are going to leave Morganville. That’s what I wanted—to keep them safe.” The euphoria she’d felt on leaving her dad’s room was fading now, and she felt shaky again. “It’s funny, but I didn’t think . . . I didn’t think I’d miss them at all if they left. Is that awful? But I will. As much as I wanted them to go . . . Maybe I should ask Amelie if I can go with them.”
“You already know what she’ll say. Look, if I thought you could leave, I’d be the first one stuffing you in the car and telling you to have a nice life,” Shane said. “But I think we both know it’s not that simple anymore.”
Nothing was, Claire thought. How had the world gotten so complicated?
EIGHT
Eventually, they all went home. Or at least homeward . . . Shane announced that he was starving, and Eve agreed, and Michael steered his car to one of Morganville’s two all-night diners. This one was Shane’s favorite, Marjo’s, although Claire guessed that Marjo herself—the rudest waitress
The food, though, was delicious. Juicy burgers, crisp fries, milk shakes to die for, although Michael skipped that and ordered something in a covered to-go cup that Claire thought was probably not ice cream. The diner was packed with late-nighters . . . college students, although they were pushing the curfew, as well as lots of quiet, pale people who sat in groups and, when they looked at the humans, had a special glitter in their eyes.
Marjo’s, like Oliver’s Common Grounds, was a place where the two halves of Morganville had a kind of unofficial truce. Besides, who didn’t like hamburgers? Vegetarians, Claire supposed. But she didn’t think there were
