All This Time(74)

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.

I shove him playfully as my cell phone buzzes noisily in my back pocket. I grab it, accepting the call, fending off Sam while he tries to get to the phone.

“Hello. Hi. Hey,” I say as I wrestle him away. “What are you doing?”

“I’m at the park,” Marley says, her voice coming in softly through the speaker. “Playing with Georgia.”

“Can I see?” I ask, elbowing Sam again before he can say something stupid into the phone.

“Uh…,” she says, hesitating.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to—”

“No, it’s fine,” she says, and the call switches to FaceTime, her face appearing in front of the tall trees and grass of the park. She went to the cemetery to talk to Laura this morning and she seems to be holding it together. I study her face as she tucks her hair behind her ear.

It looks like it went well. I want to ask her about it, but…

Sam.

His head pops into the frame and he grins at her, waving. I shove him out of the way, smiling. “Ignore Sam,” I say as Sam pouts, peering at the screen, comfortably out of view. “What’s she doing? Lemme see.”

Marley flips the camera to show a few kids playing with Georgia in the grass by the park path, the tiny pup chasing after a tennis ball that’s way too big for her mouth.

“They’re so sweet,” Marley says offscreen as one of the kids scoops it up and they begin to play monkey in the middle. Georgia’s tongue lolls out as she zooms back and forth between them.

“Look at her go,” I say, realizing how much I missed that little ball of energy. “Are you there by yourself?”

The camera turns and her face reappears, her hazel-green eyes glowing in the afternoon sun. “Mom’s here with me. She’s feeding the ducks,” she says, a small knowing look passing between us. “Popcorn,” we say at the same time.

“Speaking of moms,” I say, casually segueing into it. “Just something for you to start thinking about. No rush, of course,” I quickly clarify. I’m still not quite sure what’s too much too soon. “My mom really wants to have dinner with you and…”

I stop, watching as she looks quickly offscreen, her eyes widening in horror, but not over the dinner prospect.

“Georgia!” she says, and the phone drops from her face. I see for a fraction of a second the ball bouncing toward the road on the other side of the path and Georgia bolting after it. Marley sprints after her.

“Marley! What’re you doing?” I yell, the scenery blurring around her legs, the phone still in her hand as she runs.

A familiar icy panic courses through my veins.

Then, abruptly, the motion stops and the camera swings up to show Marley at the edge of the path, the street behind her, Georgia tucked safely in her arms. “I got her. We almost lost our girl—”

But behind her, I see the ball in the middle of the road and a little kid running toward it.

“Joey, look out!” a voice screams from somewhere out of view.

Marley’s head whips around to look behind her at the little boy. Her eyes turn back to me for a fraction of a second, the look in them filling me with dread.

I know exactly what she’s going to do before she does it.

“No!” I shout, trying to stop her. “Mar—”

The phone falls from her hands, and the screen fills completely with green as it tumbles into the grass. I hear the squeal of tires, then the sound of screams from the kids.

“Marley!” I scream, feeling helpless. “Marley!”

I hobble back inside as quickly as I can, hating this slow fucking leg. Sam’s already run ahead of me. As soon as I get inside, I’m forced into a wheelchair. Sam leans over me, right in my face. “Stop yelling, Kyle.” Am I yelling? My throat feels hoarse. Dry. Yes, I’m definitely yelling. But I can’t stop. Marley needs help. I need to get help. I fight the hands that keep me in the chair, but before I can push myself up again, I feel the prick of a needle and everything goes dark.





44


I jolt awake in my hospital bed, still screaming her name. “No! Marley—”

Hands grab on to my arms, and I look up to see Kimberly, my mom, Sam, all of them blocking my path.

“Kyle,” Kimberly says, trying to stop me from getting out of bed, but I slip out of her grip, struggling to walk, my leg aching. “Hold on. Wait. Kyle.”

I have to get to her. I have to get to Marley. No more waiting. Not again.

I slide past Kim as my mom runs to the door, calling for help. Sam kicks a chair out of my way a split second before I crash into it. I’ve almost made it into the hallway when a nurse steps inside, blocking my way, a syringe in her hand.