Everything You Are(83)

It’s too late. She hears her father’s voice, and Phee’s.

She doesn’t know how to relate to her father without the defensive anger, and she feels shy and naked. But Phee has brought Celestine, and that makes everything easy.

“Is he allowed?” Allie asks, bending over to hug the dog while he tries to lick her face.

“No, he’s not,” her father says. “Phee snuck him in by way of the back stairs. I suggest we make a break for it before they catch him.”

“I think you’re supposed to sign me out first. The nurse said.”

“How about if I go to the desk and do that?” Braden says.

The dog, having thoroughly slobbered all over Allie’s face, turns to sniffing every interesting inch of the room. His tail connects with the water jug on the lowered bedside table, sending it careening onto the floor, then he turns around and starts lapping up the puddle.

“Celestine, settle down,” Phee says, but she’s distracted by something on her phone, tapping rapidly with both thumbs.

Allie just wants to go. The minute her father reappears, she asks, “Are we good? Can we go now?”

“They want you to go in a wheelchair,” he begins, but Allie is already walking.

“No way.”

She runs into a nurse at the door, who looks from her to the dog to Braden and Phee, frowning. “Dogs aren’t allowed. And it’s policy—”

“We don’t believe in policies,” Steph says with exaggerated dignity. “We are rebels.” She grabs Allie’s hand and yanks her past the nurse. Celestine follows, his paws scrabbling on the slippery linoleum.

They take the elevator, not the stairs. Most people’s faces light up at the sight of the big dog.

“Okay, little bird?” her father asks.

Her knees feel weak, her head a little light, but she nods at him. He puts an arm around her, as if he can see what she’s not saying, and she lets herself lean against him the rest of the way out into the parking lot.

“Maybe we should wait here while you bring the car around,” her father says to Phee.

“Actually, our ride is already waiting.” Phee waves at a black SUV parked at the curb. An old man, white haired but agile, gets out of the driver’s seat and walks over to meet them.

“You must be Allie,” he says, taking her hand. His eyes are very blue, both kind and perceptive.

“Hey, Len,” her father says. “What are you doing here?”

“Phee’s car didn’t exactly accommodate the whole crew.”

“What crew?”

One of the doors opens from the inside, and Allie sees that several of the seats are already occupied by a man, a woman, and a girl with facial jewelry pretty much anywhere it will fit and all of the makeup Steph isn’t wearing.

“Your chariot awaits,” Len says, leading her toward the vehicle. “Let me help you up.”

Allie finds herself sitting between Steph and the girl with the piercings. “Cool,” Steph is already saying. “I want ink, but my mom would have a fit. She already had an aneurysm over my nose ring. Your tattoos are totally awesome.”

“This is Katie,” Len says. “Back there we have Jean and Dennis. Everybody, meet Allie and Steph.”

“Nice to meet you,” the man says. He has a quiet voice and a smile that says maybe he understands how Allie feels. “Welcome aboard the adventure bus.”

The woman, Jean, huddled up inside her coat as if she’s trying to disappear, just smiles and nods.

“I don’t understand,” Allie hears her father saying outside the vehicle.

“This is your intervention,” Phee’s voice replies. “Get in.”





Chapter Thirty-Two

BRADEN

Braden shakes his head to clear it. “This is not a good time, Phee, for whatever this is. I thought you said next week.”

“We prioritized you, because of Allie. It’s a perfect time. We’re all going to help you watch her. You’ll see. Come on, Celestine.”

The dog bounds behind her around to the back of the SUV, stopping to snuffle at the back tires.

“Oscar couldn’t come,” Phee says as she loads up the dog. “He couldn’t get anybody to watch the shop on such short notice, and you can’t leave fish and birds alone even for a couple of days. But everybody else is here. We’ve bumped Dennis’s thing to later.”

Braden reminds himself to breathe. “Where are we going? I’m sure Allie would be much more comfortable at home.” He glances at his daughter for confirmation, surprised to see that her face looks animated, a spark of interest in her eyes.

“She doesn’t want to go home,” Steph says. “Too many memories and shit. Right, Al?”

He waits for Allie to protest, but she just shrugs, her eyes conveying some sort of message he can’t decipher.

“I packed some things for you,” Phee is saying. “And Steph packed for Allie. So no need to go back to the house at all.” She faces him head-on, looks into his eyes.

He ought to trust her by now. She’s been there for him and for Allie, and he feels guilty at his besetting doubts, but her face wears a wide-eyed, innocent expression, at odds with her usual directness. Cello music resonates in the air around them, and he has a presentiment that if he goes and looks in the cargo compartment, he’s going to find the cello buried under luggage and one very large dog.