breathe again, he had looked at her. “You’re the only one who needs a helmet at Topgolf.”
Noises from the scan grew louder again.
Focus, Annalee told herself. Stay with the memory.
On the drive home, she and Tommy sang again and talked about musical theater, their love for it and the reasons neither of them had stayed with it. Annalee had shifted her attention to choir. And Tommy played basketball. Which meant neither of them had time for school musicals.
Still, it was one of their dreams to spend a weekend in New York City. Walk the insanely busy streets and catch a few shows. Tommy was going with his family for the anniversary of 9/11, but that was a different sort of trip.
Annalee could still see Tommy’s profile as he pulled his Jeep in front of her house late that night. He put the car in park, then turned to her. “And that, Annie, is how a princess should be treated.”
Annie.
The noise around her faded, and her heart was filled again with the sound of Tommy’s voice. Calling her Annie. For her, it was a silly nickname, the one Tommy used when he wanted to make her smile.
He was the only one who ever called her that.
Tommy had helped her carry the cookies and her handful of pink cards as he walked her up to the door. He faced her and took hold of her hands. The night air had been chilly, so he stood close. As if he might shelter her from more than the cool evening, but from anything that would ever dare come between them. Whatever might try to hurt her.
They set their things down on the nearest rocking chair and Tommy took her in his arms. “All night… I kept waiting for this. You and me, alone.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her.
Just long enough to tell her what he wouldn’t dare say with words.
Because they knew better than to let a moment like that linger. Instead she had watched the muscles in his jaw flex, something that happened when he was making a difficult shot on the basketball court. Whenever he had to work extra-hard.
Like he had to work to not keep kissing her. His breath had been warm on her face, and when he said goodbye he leaned close. Ever so slowly his lips touched hers once more. Only that.
“You deserve the world, Annalee.” He handed her the cookie box and searched her eyes. “The least I could give you was a Super Surprise Saturday.” He was a few steps down the walkway, then he looked back and grinned. “Oh… and next time we might skip Topgolf!”
The memory lifted. There. She had done it. The scan was nearly finished, and because of her father’s advice Annalee had avoided thinking about it all this time. Thinking about the possible reasons the internist had ordered it. She blinked her eyes open and then closed them again.
This is nothing. It has to be nothing.
There was high school to finish and college to conquer and people to help. She had Tommy Baxter to spend her whole life loving. This health situation was just a reminder for her to take better care of herself. In a week or so she’d get the results. Mononucleosis. And she’d rest up—as long as she needed.
Then she would get on with her life.
The machine made a loud thumping, like someone was trying to jackhammer their way into the cylinder. She held her breath. How much longer did she have in here? And why was she having trouble breathing? When could she get back to Tommy in the waiting room?
She had no answers, no way of knowing how much longer she had to stay in the suffocating tube. But she knew what to do about it. And just like that she could feel herself climbing into Tommy’s Jeep and he was sliding behind the wheel, smiling at her.
“You ready for your Super Surprise Saturday?”
6
Tommy’s stomach hurt. He stood and walked up to the receptionist. “Annalee Miller?”
This time it was a guy behind the counter. He didn’t look old enough to work at a hospital. “I’m sorry?”
“Annalee Miller.” Tommy forced himself to stay calm. “She’s been in there thirty minutes. Do you know how much longer?”
The guy checked something on his desk and then on the computer screen. “Uh… looks like she has another half hour or so.” He hesitated. “There’s a cafeteria and a coffee shop on the fourth floor.”
Coffee. That would