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“But you’re going to.” Hope glimmered inside and grew as Amy’s expression softened.
Amy eyed him, then sighed. “Only because I like you and she’s not the only one who’s going to miss you.”
He’d swear she’d just sniffled.
Jack hugged her. “You’ll see me again next summer at Rockin’ Tyme. Same time, same place. You know the drill.”
She nodded. “Maybe sooner if I can convince Greg to move here.”
Jack smiled, hoping things worked out for his friends. “Maybe so.”
With care to be as quiet as possible, he pushed Taylor’s bedroom door open and made his way to stand beside her bed.
She looked pale, fragile. But he kn
ew better. Knew she was strong and would be okay. Better than okay. Nothing about her was mediocre. Taylor was a butterfly emerging from a lifelong cocoon and was only just beginning to use her wings. He was humbled he’d gotten to be a small part of her learning to take flight, to soar.
“Bye, Taylor. It’s been fun,” he whispered, so low he doubted it was even audible.
Unable to resist, he stroked his fingers over her hair.
Her eyes opened.
He should feel bad he’d woken her up. She was sick. But he couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to her and knew he’d hoped she’d awaken at his touch.
“Shh,” he warned. “If Amy finds out I’ve woken you, she’ll skin me alive.”
Although obviously still ill, Taylor gave a small semblance of a smile.
“Feeling any better?”
“A little.” She glanced toward the night table where Amy had put a cup of ginger ale with a straw. “Please.”
Jack held the cup out to her, positioning it so she could sip while he held the cup. She didn’t take in much, but at least it was something.
Seeing her so weak, so unlike her normal vibrant self, threatened to undo him. How could he leave until she was back on her feet?
“I’ll stay if you need me to. I’ll call Duffy and tell him you’re sick. He’ll understand.”
Face pale, she shook her head. “You shouldn’t be anywhere near me. I’m contagious.”
He took her hand in his, marveling at how fragile she felt. “You’re not the first contagious patient I’ve been around, Taylor.”
She nodded almost imperceptibly.
“Is there anything I can get you?”
She shook her head. “I just feel tired. I want to go to sleep.”
Which he’d woken her from.
“I didn’t picture our goodbye quite this way.” He hesitated, studying her hand within his. “If you ever need me, Taylor, for anything, a new adventure, whatever, you know how to get in touch with me. Always.”
But he wasn’t sure she heard him, because her eyes had closed, and her breathing evened out in sleep.
“Goodbye,” he whispered, marveling at just how much he wanted to stay but knowing he’d stayed in Warrenville longer than he should have already.
It was past time for him to move on to his next adventure. So why was it so hard?
