“Lemonade sounds great.”
Summer’s face falls as he leaves, and it makes me think about the heaven conversation I had with her in the hospital and how she told me not to tell Bennett about it.
She’s trying to be strong for her dad. She’s trying to hide her pain.
My nose stings with unshed tears as I realize…she knows. She knows what’s coming, but she’s putting on a brave face for Bennett every second she can.
“You okay, Summer?” I ask softly, squatting down so she can look me directly in the eye without having to work for it.
She hums. “Just thinking of what I’d really like to see.”
“Did you come up with anything?”
Her smile is slow and soft like a gentle rain on a steamy summer day. “A shooting star. I’ve never been outside at night, at least, not that I can remember, and I’d really like to see a shooting star.”
My head is jerky as I move it up and down.
“And a wedding. I’ve always wanted to go to a wedding.”
That request pulls me up a little short. I mean, the shooting star is possible, but a wedding? I don’t know if I can manage a freaking wedding. It goes without saying that weddings and I haven’t mixed very well thus far.
Plus, I’d need to find a bride and a groom and—
“I want to wear a really fancy dress, and get my nails painted and my hair fixed, and watch a pretty bride walk down the aisle to her groom.” She lets out a dreamy sigh. “I’ve only seen weddings in movies or on TV, and I just know they have to be so much fun.”
My chest nearly convulses.
Forget the complications. Come hell or high water, I’m going to figure out a way to get this sweet girl to a wedding.
Sunday, August 29th
Bennett
Summer blinks awake in her bed as I run my fingers ever so gently through her hair, but her eyes struggle to stay open.
“Summer baby,” I whisper. “Come on. We have somewhere to go.”
“Now?” she questions, once again fighting hard to focus enough to stay awake. “But it’s dark outside.”
“I know. But a little bird told me you wanted to see a shooting star.”
“A shooting star?” Her eyes fly open. “Really?”
“Yeah, baby.”
I smile down at her, my mind taking a mental picture of this moment. The way her heart is in her eyes, the way her lips are fixed in my favorite smile—I never want to forget it. The emotion in my throat is hard to clear, but I manage. Tonight isn’t about me. It’s about her.
“It’s clear skies and perfect for looking at the stars,” I tell her. “I’ve got it all set up.”
“Let’s go, let’s go,” she chants, trying to sit up on her own and failing. She hasn’t been able to do much in years, but with the way her breathing is now, she’s weaker than ever.
I put my arms behind her back and knees and lift her as gently as I can, careful of the oxygen line that runs to the tank behind her. I set her in her wheelchair, strap the tank to the back, and slowly wheel my giggling girl down the hallway from her bedroom and out the side door where the chair ramp is, to a waiting Norah.
Pink blankets are spread out over the grass with the picnic basket I packed earlier, as well as a telescope Norah borrowed from Eileen Martin.
It’s just the three of us tonight. Breezy is busy in town with nearly everyone else we know, setting up for tomorrow’s surprise. I’m still not convinced we’re going to be able to pull it off, but Norah was insistent that Summer get this wish. And I don’t have the energy to fight anything but my own demons at the moment.
“Daddy! Look!” Summer yells, finally seeing Norah and the setup. “Norah’s here!”