Текст книги "Heart Block"

Автор книги: Melissa Brayden

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

“Grace had a fainting spell today,” the nurse explained calmly. “She lost consciousness for less than a minute, but given her circumstances and condition, we thought it best you came.”

“I’m fine, Mom. I feel normal, I promise. It wasn’t as bad as last time. Can I please go back to camp now?” Grace looked up at her and the desperate hope Sarah saw there tugged at her.

Mr. Ingersol cleared his throat. “Miss Kathy, would you take Grace to get a refill on her juice so we can speak with her mother?”

“Of course I will. Come on, kiddo.”

Grace shot Sarah a worried glance over her shoulder as she walked quietly from the room with Miss Kathy. Sarah nodded in encouragement and smiled back.

Once the door closed, Sarah turned to Mr. Ingersol and the nurse expectantly. “Tell me the truth. Is she okay? What exactly happened?”

“She was playing volleyball with the other kids and she just went over. Kathy checked in with her throughout the day, and Grace said she felt fine. It’s a sand court, so luckily her fall was cushioned. She was out for maybe thirty seconds, and by the time I arrived on the court, she was sitting up and telling everyone not to worry. She’s a brave little girl.”

“Yes, she is,” Sarah said, but only halfheartedly. The fact that this had happened a second time in only two months had her shaken. Without a reoccurrence and with Grace’s cardiologist sounding so encouraging, it was easy to slip back into normal life. Today was an unfortunate wake-up call.

“Ms. Matamoros, I think this is something we need to discuss from a safety perspective,” Mr. Ingersol said. Sarah tensed, hoping against the worst. “I have very real concerns about our ability to provide Grace with what she needs. I hate to have to do this, but for her own benefit, I think it would be best if Grace did not finish the summer with us.”

Sarah felt as if she’d been punched squarely in the stomach. “You’re kicking her out for having a heart condition? Can you do that?”

“I’m so sorry, but it’s for her own safety. This is a very active camp, and based on what we know of Grace’s very recent diagnosis, I’m not confident this is a safe environment for her. There are plenty of camps that cater to children with special needs. Perhaps in the future, you could look into one of them.”

“Can we come to some sort of compromise? Maybe limit her participation in the more strenuous activities. Let her watch but still get the chance to be around her friends. It would kill her to not be able to finish.”

“I’m sorry, but from a legal perspective, we can’t have her return. I had concerns when we agreed to admit her, given her recent medical history, but after consulting briefly with our attorney, this is the best course of action for everyone involved. We’ll offer a partial refund, of course, for the remaining two weeks.”

“Thank you,” Sarah said with icy calm. “If you could just locate her backpack for me, we’ll be out of your way.”

“Of course. And again, we wish nothing but the best for Grace.”

“Clearly.”

As they walked to the car, hand in hand, Sarah struggled with how she would possibly explain to Grace that she was no longer allowed to attend camp. Grace loved this place and had blossomed so much that summer with all the new activities she’d been exposed to, not to mention the new group of friends she’d made. The idea alone broke her heart.

“Mama, why can’t I stay? I feel fine.”

“Well, because I want to make sure you’re okay. The doctor said this would happen if you overexert yourself, and so you probably need to rest a little. Lay low.”

“But this afternoon we’re supposed to do water balloons, and I don’t want to miss it. Angela and Brianna asked me to be on their team.”

“That sounds like it would have been fun, but don’t you think it’s more important to make sure you’re okay?”

Grace thought on this for a moment. “I guess so. If that’s what you want. Maybe they’ll have water balloons tomorrow too.”

Sarah took a deep breath as they climbed into the car, and then stared at the leather pattern on the steering wheel, hating what she was about to say. “Mija, I have some not so good news.”

“What?” Grace’s large eyes, already filled with fear, made it even more difficult to deliver what she knew would be a horrible blow.

“We’re not coming back to camp anymore. You see, Mr. Ingersol also wants to make sure you’re feeling well, and he’s afraid that the activities at camp are not good for your heart condition.”

“He said I can’t come back?” Grace asked in a horrified whisper.

Sarah nodded solemnly. “You know what, though?” She forced herself to brighten. “I think you’re going to have more fun this way. Papi was just saying that he didn’t get to do enough cool stuff with you this summer. And since I still have to work in the daytime, I have a feeling you two will get into all kinds of trouble together.”

Grace nodded almost imperceptibly and stared out the window.

“Sweetheart?” When Grace turned back to her there were tears streaming down her face. At the sight, Sarah felt them spring into her own eyes.

“I want to go back to camp tomorrow,” she managed to gulp out. “This is all my fault.”

“Of course it’s not your fault.” Sarah brushed the tears gently from her cheek. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I didn’t tell anyone I was feeling tired when I was. I just wanted to keep playing. Our team was winning the volleyball tournament, and I was going to get to serve next. I should have said something.” She managed to take a deep, shuddering breath in the midst of her sobs.

“You’re right, you should have said something. We’ve talked about this. But it’s not your fault you can’t come back to camp. It’s not your fault that your heart gets sick sometimes. It’s just the way things are, baby. But promise me you won’t keep how you’re feeling a secret ever again. This is so very important. Do you understand?”

Grace, still crying openly, nodded. “I promise.”

Sarah placed her hand gently under Grace’s chin and turned her face fully so she could look directly into her eyes. “I love you more than the moon and back, and I know that this must be so hard for you. But things are going to get better. School’s about to start and you’re going to see all your friends again. Mindy didn’t get to go to summer camp at all. Think how she must feel. She’ll be so excited to see you again.”

“Yeah,” Grace said. Her crying was now subsiding into sniffles.

“I have an idea. Why don’t we pick up a couple of double chocolate milkshakes, veg out on the couch together, and watch a movie?”

“Don’t you have to go back to work?”

“I’d rather spend today with you. You’re my favorite.”

“Okay, I guess.”

Well, that was at least something. They could spend the afternoon together, and she could try her best to make Grace forget about camp. Show her a good time. She absolutely could not stand to see her so dejected, so heartbroken. It was tearing her up inside. What she really wanted to do was punch that Mr. Ingersol square in the face.

When they arrived home, Sarah opened the cabinet next to the television and began listing off potential movies they could watch to Grace, who hadn’t moved very far from the entryway. “What about The Princess Diaries? You love that one.”

Grace took a sip from her milkshake and then placed it on the end table. “I think I’d rather just go to my room for a little while.”

“You don’t want to watch a movie?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Okay, baby. Is there anything I can get you?” Sarah plastered a cheerful smile on her face. “Do you want me to sit with you?”

Grace shook her head wordlessly and headed quietly down the hall to her room. Before she turned the corner, Sarah caught a glimpse of fresh tears welling up in Grace’s eyes. At the sound of her bedroom door closing, Sarah allowed herself to collapse onto the couch. She covered her face with her hands and realized how completely and utterly helpless she felt. She couldn’t overrule nature and take away Grace’s heart block, she couldn’t protect Grace from the harshness of the outside world, and she couldn’t even so much as cheer her up on such a difficult day. What kind of mother was she?

She remained on the couch for the next half hour, sinking further and further into a powerless state. She needed perspective, she realized. She needed to talk this out. She thought briefly of calling Carmen, knowing she would sympathize with her from a mother’s point of view, but that wasn’t what she needed. Sarah pulled her phone from her back pocket. Emory didn’t answer until the fourth ring, but when she did, just the sound of her voice was enough to calm Sarah in a way she wouldn’t have thought possible.

“Hey, you.”

“Hi,” Sarah answered, already finding her footing. “Are you busy?”

“That’s a relative question. Not too busy for you. What’s up? How are you?”

“Grace and I have had a bit of a bad day. I guess I just need to talk to someone. I thought of you. Is that crazy?”

“I’d be upset if you didn’t. What happened?”

“Are you sure you have time, I mean, I can call you later if you have a lot on your plate.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

The offer alone stopped Sarah short. “No, absolutely not. It’s the middle of your work day.”

“Like I said, everything is relative. Tell me what happened.”

Sarah sighed and recounted the story to Emory, starting in May with the first diagnosis and concluding with Grace’s seclusion in her room. She found herself including even the small details, needing Emory to hear all of it. When she finished, she felt somewhat relieved.

Emory didn’t answer for a moment. “Sarah, I had no idea. That’s a lot for you to deal with. I mean, we sat on the back patio discussing life in detail and you never said a word.”

“I don’t think I was ready to let you that far in. You were a client and we became friends, but it’s different now. At least I think it is.”

“It is.”

“I don’t know what to do for her, Emory. I have a call in to her cardiologist about today, but it’s not just her health. Her spirit has really taken a hit. I’ve never seen her so desolate.”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “Didn’t you say she likes to swim?”

“Yeah, it’s her passion du jour.”

“Why don’t you guys come to my place in a couple of hours? I can move some things around here and meet you. Grace can swim, I can whip us up something to eat, and we can see if we can’t get both of you in better shape.”

Sarah blinked several times, considering the idea. She could definitely use someone in her corner today, and seeing Emory would probably be a nice diversion for Grace. She’d asked about visiting Emory endlessly since they initially met. “That might be nice, but I’m not sure that swimming is such a good idea. She should probably take it easy today.”

“What if there was no actual swimming? Would she go for floating around in the pool on a raft?”

“Chances are good.”

“Great. I’ll give you directions.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind because—”

“Do you have a pen?”

“Right here.”

*

“Where are we going?” Grace sighed in annoyance. Her mood had apparently shifted from sad to angry in the span of two hours.

“I thought it might be fun to get out of the house. Do you remember Emory from the great big house we went to?” At the mention of Emory’s name, Grace snapped to attention. Aha, now she had her.

“Yeah, she’s the artist.”

“Right. Well, she invited us to come over for a swim at her house and then dinner afterward. I told her you’d need to take it easy in the pool, but she has some fancy rafts that might be fun to float around on. Game?”

She answered with noticeably more energy. “Game.” Grace turned her attention back to the window but was unable to hide the small smile that crept onto her face. Sarah reached for the radio controls and turned up the volume, catching Grace bobbing her head to the beat of the music. It seemed this had been a good idea after all.

Sarah pulled into the short driveway, parking her car behind the familiar Jaguar, her signal that she had in fact located the correct house. She leaned across the steering wheel and stared up at the two-story, medium sized home in front of her. When Emory informed her that she lived on Mission Beach, it had surprised her. All along, she’d pictured Emory living in more of a hoity-toity neighborhood, more akin to Banning Street, in a large formal home. This funky beach scene, while still high-end, was a much more appealing choice.

“Remember your manners today,” she instructed Grace as they made their way from the car. “Please and thank you.”

“Thank you for reminding me,” Grace said.

“That’s my girl.”

Emory opened the door just moments after the bell chimed and smiled brightly at them. “Hi, you two, come on in. Um, I can take your bag, Grace.” Grace gratefully handed her backpack to Emory as she passed. “What have you guys been up to today?”

“Nothing until now. Can I see your pool?” Grace asked.

“Sure, right this way.”

Sarah followed Emory from the two-story entryway through a small hallway that opened them up into the living room. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight before her. The interior of the house was damn impressive. Shiny hardwood floors, streamlined bookcases, and hip steel lighting fixtures worked together to give the place an entirely modern look and feel. If the outside was unassuming, the inside of Emory’s house was downright stunning. The entire back wall of the house was floor to ceiling windows, with the most beautiful view of the beach Sarah could possibly conceive of. The room itself was very open with a sleek little bar and four tall chairs separating the living room from the contemporary kitchen. Sarah didn’t see a lot of places to throw yourself down and lounge comfortably, as the light blue sculpted sectional was a far cry from the worn in, cuddly couch at her own apartment. While it wasn’t exactly her style, she had to admit the place was breathtaking.

“How long have you lived here?” Sarah asked, doing her best to mask her amazement.

“Two years. The house was built in eighty-three, and when I bought it I decided to upgrade a few things.”

“It’s beautiful. This view alone is…wow.”

“Thanks, I like it too. I just wish I got to enjoy it a little more. It’s nice having company though.” Emory must have picked up on Grace’s puppy dog eyes as she sat patiently through their conversation. “I have a feeling that the miniature person is ready to get in the pool. Tell you what, Grace, why don’t you go get your suit on right through there and I’ll open this place up a little bit.”

Grace eagerly snatched the backpack from Emory’s hands and hurried into the bathroom pointed out to her. Emory moved to a small console in the kitchen and pushed a code into the keypad. The glass wall that separated the kitchen from the outdoors rose upward, completely opening up the room to the refreshing breeze moving in from the beach.

Sarah gaped. “Okay, you just made a wall disappear. What else can you do?”

“Be patient. You never know.”

“Will there be a fireworks display later?”

Emory smiled wisely. “Fireworks are strictly for Tuesdays.”

“Got it. Presumptuous of me. May I ask if you plan to swim with us?”

“Mhmm. Already set. See?” Emory tugged a red bathing suit strap from underneath her T-shirt. “What about you? Do you need to change?”

“I do.” Sarah placed a hand on her bag. “Is there somewhere I can…”

“You can change in my room,” Emory offered. “It’s the first door on the left, at the top of the stairs.”

Sarah followed the lazy spiral staircase that snaked its way to the second story and easily located Emory’s bedroom, which seemed to be one of three in the house. The room itself wasn’t overly large, but the two glass walls looking over the expanse of the ocean made it feel so much bigger. The elevated second story offered a more expansive view of the Pacific, and she took a moment to watch the waves roll in from as far as the eye could see. A soft beige love seat faced out, overlooking the ocean. Something about this room seemed a little bit more personable, warm. Sarah imagined Emory cuddled up on the small sofa, reading a book, and watching the surf.

Shaking herself from the coziness of her daydream, she undressed and put on her sky blue one piece and surveyed herself in the mirror of the master bathroom. Somehow in these new surroundings, her bathing suit seemed to pale in comparison. So plain. And there it was again. That sinking feeling of doubt. She decided to shake it off. Because, you know what? She wasn’t in the fourth grade anymore, struggling to measure up. She was an accomplished single mother who had every reason to hold her head high. At least, that’s what she would keep telling herself.

The living room was seemingly empty when she returned so Sarah drifted into the kitchen, pulled along by the wafting aroma of something surely sent from baby Jesus. She peeked in the small oven window and her mouth watered at the sight of bubbling lasagna. Unable to stop herself, she opened the heavy oven door so she could fully appreciate the amazingness of what was before her.

“Freeze, grifter. Back away from the lasagna.”

Sarah smiled, stood upright at the sound of Emory’s voice, and turned around innocently to plead her case. However, what she found herself faced with was enough to make her mouth water a second time. Emory was standing just beyond the interior of the house clad in a red bikini that complimented her toned physique and, well, curves to complete perfection. She’d taken her blond hair out of the ponytail she’d been wearing earlier and it fell haphazardly around her shoulders. Her very tan shoulders. Sarah tried to swallow and recapture the witty comeback that had been on the tip of her tongue just a moment before, but her brain wasn’t exactly cooperating at the moment.

“What is it?” Emory looked at her with concern. When Sarah’s only answer was a guilty smile and a sheepish shrug, Emory’s expression took on understanding. There was a liquid heat to the gaze they now exchanged, and even though Emory was fifteen feet away, she affected her all over. Immediate warmth started in her stomach and moved rapidly downward. Intensely, achingly so.

“For another time,” Sarah offered quietly and inclined her head in Grace’s direction.

Emory took a deep breath, blinked several times, and nodded finally as if coming to. “Follow me. Grace is waiting for us.”

The pool was grotto style and formed a languid, wandering shape capped off with a small waterfall, originating from a grouping of large boulder styled rocks. Just beyond the pool was a half wall that separated the deck from the beach itself. Grace sat at the edge of the pool, allowing her feet to dangle. Though she’d taken swimming lessons, she’d been taught at an early age to never enter the water unless an adult was present, and Sarah was grateful that she’d always been one to listen. There were two rafts already floating in the pool and a pitcher of lemonade sat enticingly on a small table on the deck.

“Can you believe she lives right next to the beach, Mom? I mean you just step over this little brick wall and you’re there, like shazam.”

Emory laughed at the description. “That’s what I say when I climb over too. Shazam.”

“She’s pretty lucky, huh?” Sarah said. “It was nice of Emory to invite us over. Did you happen to remember to say thank you?”

“Not yet. Thank you, Emory. I like your house a lot. It’s pretty cool.”

“You’re welcome and that’s nice of you to say. Cool is absolutely what I was going for. Ready to get in?”

“Definitely.”

“Okay, it may be a little cold at first, but I turned the heater on a tad so it should get more comfortable in about ten minutes.”

Grace eagerly made her way down the stairs into the four feet of water and Emory slipped in after her, showing her how the raft worked and all the little features it had attached to it, like a built-in radio. Sarah could tell that Emory was a tad nervous around Grace, but she hid it well. She appreciated the effort Emory was making and enjoyed watching them interact.

Once they settled on a station, Emory took it upon herself to move Grace and the raft around the pool, chatting with her the whole time about the fun she’d had at camp, the start of school in just two weeks, and of course how she’d put Emory’s art tips to use as of late. With Grace taking the reins and dominating most of the conversation, Emory seemed to relax.

Throughout her playful conversation with Grace, Emory kept one eye on Sarah. She couldn’t help it. Never in her life could she imagine a one-piece bathing suit could be so alluring. Perhaps it was the fact that the suit only offered a glimpse of the body underneath that teased her so mercilessly, but the visual was quite simply doing her in.

She and Grace chatted for a good part of a half hour, while Sarah listened from the far end of the pool, chiming in occasionally. When she did, this generally prompted an embarrassed glance from Grace, which amused Emory. The dynamic between Sarah and Grace was so informal, so everyday, it was intriguing. So different from what she was used to.

But in a surprise turn of events, Emory was having fun, more fun than she thought possible with an eight-year-old. Who knew they could be this smart or this funny? Maybe kids didn’t deserve the hard rap she’d given them all these years, or then again, maybe it was just Grace. “So what should we do now, kiddo?”

“Ever played twenty questions?”

“Are you kidding? I’m like the Jedi of twenty questions. Am I guessing or are you?”

Grace thought for a minute. “You.”

Seventeen questions later, and Emory was finding her stride. “So the individual in question is a living female government official over the age of fifty. Hmmm. Is she a congresswoman?”

“No, two questions left.”

“Has she ever gone to jail?”

“No! One question.”

“Is she funny?”

“Yes. What’s your guess?”

“Easy. Judge Judy.”

Grace stared at her in utter mystification. “How did you do that? How did you know?”

“Well, let’s think about it. You’re eight. You probably watch TV. We ruled out the legislative branch of the government and no woman has ever been president. What woman judge would you find funny? And there you have it.”

Grace couldn’t contain her admiration as she stared at Emory as if she’d just cured cancer. Sarah shook her head. She had to hand it to Emory. She was good, and damn it, so incredibly good-looking. Watching Emory move about the pool in her swimsuit like it was made specifically for her body left her feeling a combination of supreme jealousy and plain desire all rolled into one. What a complicated situation this liking another woman thing was. So many new angles to examine.

They’d been in the pool for a little over an hour and the sun was beginning its final descent over the ocean. Emory glanced at the clock on the deck. “Dinner should be ready in just a few minutes. Should we head in?”

“I think so. Grace, why don’t you go ahead and get changed? It’s getting a little chilly out here.”

“Yes, ma’am.” As Grace scampered inside, Sarah found herself alone with Emory, who smiled at her from the other side of the pool.

“You’re great with her, Emory. She’s a different kid from earlier today.”

Emory swam the short distance that separated them. “Really? Sometimes I don’t know what I should say, what I shouldn’t say.”

“Stop second-guessing yourself. You’re a natural.”

“Well, to her credit, she’s fun to hang out with. Makes me want to be a kid again.” Emory stood in front of Sarah then and placed her hands against the wall of the pool on either side of her. Standing face-to-face, their bodies only a millimeter apart, Sarah offered a slight smile.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hey. So tell me how you’re feeling.” Emory moved a strand of Sarah’s hair behind her shoulder. “And be honest. I’m worried about you.”

Sarah met Emory’s eyes and there was that click, that connection, and all at once, she felt safe. Emory had her. She could relax and be truthful. “It’s been rough. I just keep telling myself that everything is going to be fine, but I don’t know how much I believe that. The doctor said her collapse at school was probably an isolated instance and that her life would be mostly normal. But now she’s collapsed a second time in a two-month span. I have an appointment on Monday with her cardiologist to discuss our options. I just want her to be okay, physically and emotionally.”

Emory nodded. “You know, you can lean on me. You were there for me in some dark moments, and now I want to be there for you, whatever you need.”

Sarah nodded, tears touching her eyes. It was hard to be strong all the time, and with Emory, she somehow knew she didn’t have to be. She instinctively wrapped her arms around Emory’s waist, pulling her in closer and resting her chin on her shoulder. The closeness was nice.

“Are you guys going to change?” Grace asked from just inside the kitchen.

Emory took a step away, releasing Sarah who turned to face Grace. “Yep, on our way.”

After everyone changed, they made their way back to the dining room table. Since it was no longer as warm out, they opted to close the glass and enjoyed dinner with some music Emory pulled up on the intercom system.

“That lasagna was from another planet.” Grace placed her napkin on the table. “I’ve never tasted anything so good. No offense, Mom.”

“No, it’s fine. I clearly do not possess the culinary genius of this one over here. Where did you learn to make this succulent concoction?”

Emory got up to clear their plates. “I took some cooking classes while I studied art in France. Wait till you taste my chicken carbonara. It’ll rock your world.”

“Where do we make reservations?” Sarah asked innocently, glancing around the kitchen for an imaginary maitre d’.

“Well, I suppose if it’s the two of you we’re talking about, there’s a standing invitation.”

“Cool, then Mom and I will be back soon. Like tomorrow.” Grace laughed and handed Emory the salad bowl and returned to the table for the remaining dishes.

Sarah bumped Emory with her hip. “You know what, Julia Child? You’ve done enough today. Get out of here and let me take care of these dishes.”

“Absolutely not. You’re a guest in my home, and besides, there’s not much here.”

“You’re right. There isn’t, which is the only reason I’m offering.” Sarah grinned proudly. “Now get out of this kitchen before I take my business elsewhere.” She held up a threatening spatula in Emory’s direction.

Emory held up her hands in surrender. “Yes, ma’am.” She turned to Grace. “You know your mom can get a little scary when she wants something.”

“Tell me about it.” Grace shook her head in commiseration. “Try changing the channel when the Chargers are playing and lose that arm in the process.”

“Duly noted.”

“Out of this kitchen,” Sarah chided them. “Go.” She shooed them into the living room, which was really just on the other side of the bar, and set to work on the small conglomerate of dishes, just sure she’d figure out the futuristic looking automatic dishwasher.

“Hey, Mom, can I walk down to the beach?” Grace called from somewhere not too far away.

“It’s getting dark out. I don’t think I want you down there on your own.”

“What if Emory took me?”

“Oh.” Emory said, pausing momentarily. “I guess I could take her down.”

Sarah shot her a questioning look to make sure she was okay with the arrangement.

“Relax. Those child endangerment charges were dropped months ago. But if you’d rather, we could wait for you. Or even better, you could stop being so stubborn and leave those where they are.”

Sarah came around the bar to see them fully. “I’m good. You guys have fun while I finish up.”

“Do you always get your way?” Emory arched an eyebrow.

“I’m a little strong willed.”

“So I’m finding.”

Once Grace and Emory were gone, Sarah set back to work.

Realizing after washing the dishes that she didn’t have a clue about where each dish lived, she set about doing her best to figure it out. Opening the first cupboard, she was struck with how much its interior looked like a display from Pottery Barn itself. Neat little rows of mugs, all the same color and style, stood at attention like perfect little soldiers, not one out of place. Whoa. It was in stark contrast to her motley set comprised of her World’s Best Mom cup, Grace’s preschool attempt at pottery, and mugs sporting her favorite Far Side jokes. While her own cabinet boasted all sorts of bright colors, some complimentary and some not, Emory’s were all light green, in three distinct sizes, handles all facing to the right. New goal. Don’t let Emory see your cabinets. Shouldn’t be that hard.

*

Emory and Grace strolled along the shoreline at an extra slow, even pace. Emory made sure not to travel too far from the house so as not to tire Grace out. They walked in silence for a bit, letting the tide wash across their bare feet. Emory struggled with what they could talk about. They’d already exhausted twenty questions. What else interested an eight-year-old?

“Do you walk down here every day?” Grace asked.

Saved. “Not every day, but I try to go for a run at least twice a week. Sometimes I get too busy at the office though, and it doesn’t work out.” Emory brushed the windblown hair from her eyes.

“If I lived this close to the beach, I’d come here every day.”

“I guess I take it for granted. I shouldn’t do that.”

“Well, lesson learned. That’s something Mom says to me a lot when I figure out something I could have done better.”

“She’s a wise one, your mom.”

“Yeah.”

Slowly easing into the conversation, Emory decided to push further. “So things have been a little rough for you lately, huh?”

Grace shrugged and looked up at her. “Did my mom tell you about what happened today? About my heart condition?”

Emory nodded and turned out to the water, trying to seem as cavalier as possible. It was important she not say the wrong thing here.

“I’m upset that I can’t go back to camp, but the worst part is that this was my one chance to get these girls from my school to like me, and now that will never happen.”

“Explain. What girls?”

“Angela and Brianna are two girls from my class who were also at summer camp. Everyone wants to be their friend, but they don’t like talk to just anybody. All last year they ignored me or made mean comments, and I wasn’t invited to Brianna’s sleepover that all the girls went to. But at camp, they started paying attention to me and they didn’t say anything mean, at least lately. They asked me to eat lunch with them some days too. But that’ll never happen again now. They saw me faint, and when they hear I got kicked out of camp, they’ll probably laugh about it and ignore me again.”