“I am.”
“Do you ever get bored?”
June laughed from the bed so hard she started coughing, and I had to hold the water cup to her lips. Hazel looked pleased with herself.
When they left, June watched the doorway for a long time.
“She has your—” June stopped herself.
“My what?”
“Nothing, Gordie. I’m tired. I’m rambling.”
On the fourth evening, she woke after dark. The room was lit only by the monitors and the sodium glow from the parking lot. She found my hand on the blanket.
“Gordie?”
“I’m here.”
“I need you to promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“Promise me you won’t be angry. Whatever happens. Whatever you find out.” Her voice was so faint I had to lean close. “Promise me you’ll remember I loved you. I never stopped. Not one day.”
“June, what are you talking about? What would I find out?”
But her eyes had already drifted closed again, and her breathing had gone slow and even, and I sat there in the dark holding her hand and turning her words over until they wore a groove in me.
