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I fall in step beside Kenzi. She links her arm in mine, and this feels weirdly comfortable. The four of us on a family outing. We walk through a tunnel that’s built in the middle of a tank. On either side of us and above us, through the Plexiglas, small sharks and stingrays and multicolored fish jet back and forth.
“I guess the sharks were on the nice list,” Kenzi remarks, pointing to a faux Christmas tree installed in the bottom of the tank.
I groan. “I hate the holidays.”
Kenzi slips her hand over my chest. My body is unaccustomed to things like gentle touches, and instinctively I feel myself recoil.
“What’re you doing?”
“Checking to make sure you still have a heart.”
“You’re wasting your time. I took that out with my appendix. Just another useless organ holding me back.”
She knits her eyebrows. “You’re joking.”
“Yes. I’m joking. I still have my appendix.”
“No…” She stops us suddenly and stands in front of me, forcing my gaze to meet hers. “I mean…the Donovan I knew only wore black and was cynical, sure, but he had a big heart.”
I press my lips together. “Yeah, well. When you grow up as the island punching bag, you either give up and roll over, or you grow fangs.”
She frowns at that, then moves her hands to my face. She pushes my upper lip back, exposing the gums. “Hold still, vampire. Checking your teeth.”
“All the better to eat you with, my dear.”
52
Kenzi
At least Donovan is smiling again, so that’s progress.
It does worry me, the coal black of his eyes. The years have hardened him.
And who could blame him? I remember how terrible the kids were to him growing up. But still, he didn’t leave. He stayed here and stuck it out.
I understand the impulse to turn your heart to stone before someone breaks it again.
But, for a minute, we’re kids, playing around the aquarium. I’m baring his teeth, he’s struggling to get away from me, when we hear, “—Dr. Donovan?”
I take my hands away from his face, and we both turn to see a woman behind us. She’s wearing a ripped band shirt and long dangling earrings.
“Hey,” Donovan says, and his smile is genuine. Donovan is a man who reserves his affection only for the deserving, so when he takes her in a light hug, I already know that she’s a good person. He peels back and turns to me, motioning to her. “Kenzi, this is Maria. She lives on the island.”
“I’m a frequent flyer at the hospital,” she says. “Dr. Donovan has saved my life more times than I can count.”
“You’re a good patient,” Donovan says.
“Two years in remission,” she says.
“And counting.”
She motions to a boy who has his nose flat against the glass. “That’s my little monster, Diego. He gets mad when he doesn’t get to come with me to the hospital.” She tightens her hands into little fists, playing the part of a small child. “Oooh, but I want to see Dr. Donovan!”
“He doesn’t say that,” Donovan counters. But he’s smiling.
It’s nice to see Donovan like this. Caring. Compassionate. Kind.
Maybe he doesn’t have a heart of stone, after all.
