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“Yes, you did. You were brave and—”
“Stop saying that,” I cry. “I wasn’t brave. Please, Mo. Please, take me to see him.”
“Claire.” She watches me cautiously, the same way my mother did minutes ago. “I don’t know what’s going through that head of yours, but you didn’t put anyone’s life in danger. That fire wasn’t your fault, and if it weren’t for you, who knows what would’ve happened to those boys. As for Trevor, fighting fires is what he does. It’s his job.”
“I understand that, but—” My words cut off with another sob. I need to keep my mouth shut. There’s no way Mo or Mom will understand. They didn’t hesitate. They don’t owe my father the way I do.
“But what? What were you going to say?”
?
??Nothing,” I whisper, fisting my hand against the blanket.
“I heard your mom talking to the doctor in the hallway. They’re going to release you sometime tomorrow,” she says, a spark of relief in her eyes. “Trevor has to stay a few more days, but as soon as you get released, I’ll take you to his room, okay?”
I nod and blow my nose. The Kleenex in my hand is frayed and tattered, much like my heart. “Please.”
“I promise. You’re going to get through this. And you can tell me anything. You know that, right? If you need to talk or vent—whatever, I’m here for you.”
Dropping my forehead to her shoulder, I sniff. “I know.”
Except I can’t. I can’t tell her like I can’t tell Mom, because what would they think of me?
13
Trevor
“You’re hovering.” I glare at my mom, giving her the look that makes most men cower, but she’s completely unaffected.
“I’m not hovering. You’re my baby boy, and I just want to make sure you don’t need anything. Are you comfortable?” Mom flits around my room, arranging and rearranging the various flowers and balloons that have trickled in over the last few days.
“Yes, I’m comfortable. I’m also full and tired, thanks to you.”
“Better get used to it, bro,” Rhett says, dropping onto a chair. He props an ankle on his knee and reclines. “When I was in the hospital, she did the same thing. Didn’t stop until I got released, and then she still sent me daily texts to make sure I was feeling okay.”
Mom scoffs and kisses my forehead. “One of these days, when you have your own children, you’ll understand.”
“Sorry, Ma. I imagine you’ll have lots of grandchildren someday, but they probably won’t come from me,” I scoff.
“You just wait. You’ll change your tune when you decide to go after your girl,” she says, picking up her purse.
“My girl? There is no girl, Mom.”
She looks at me as though she’s privy to some huge secret I know nothing about. I glance to Rhett for help, but he just shrugs.
“There’s a girl, but your head and your heart have to be ready for her, and when they are, you’ll see her,” she says.
“You mean I’ll find her.”
“No, you’ll see her. You’re obviously not there yet, and when you are, you’ll realize you don’t have to look far because she’s been right in front of you this whole time.” With a final wave, Mom bustles out of the room.
“Did any of that make sense to you?”
Rhett shakes his head. “Not a word.”
“Good. I thought maybe the pain meds screwed with my head.”
“Speaking of pain meds, how are you feeling?” Rhett asks, standing up. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he moves closer to my bed, looking at one of the bags hanging from the IV pole.
