I take the package. “What is it?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me, but you knew Margo. Gifts were what she did best.”
I don’t know what to say. Part of me wants to open it right away, but the other part of me is scared.
“Well, I have to get going,” Annie says. “But I’ll see you around.”
“Thank you,” I say, lifting the package.
She smiles softly. “No problem.”
When I get back to my room, I sit on my bed and stare at the package for at least ten minutes before I’m brave enough to open it. I peel the wrapping paper off carefully and set it aside. Inside is a brand-new Jules Verne book.
Gingerly, I thumb through the pages. The perfect margins stare back. My heart skips when I get to the first page and notice the note from Margo:
Dear Daniel,
Fill these margins with all the things that make you happy. Write about your favorite memories and all the adventures you have. Write down your greatest dreams, but don’t keep them hidden away in this book. Don’t be afraid to chase them. Say them out loud.
The world is ready to meet you.
Love,
Margo
I know what I’m going to write first.I know what made me the happiest, what my favorite memory is. It’s Margo. Whether she meant for it to be or not, this book will be about her.
EPILOGUE
Laura grips Rob’s arm and grimaces. Olive stands on her other side, her hand on the small of Laura’s back as we walk through the parking lot. “We’re almost there.”
I follow close behind carrying two large bags filled to the brim with everything she could possibly need for the hospital stay.
Laura cries out. “Wait!”
Everyone stops as she cradles her belly.
She breathes in and out until the contraction passes. Then we make our way to the hospital entrance. Quickly, they get her checked in and get her settled into a room.
A nurse comes in, and I immediately recognize her as Mrs. Blakely. She smiles when she realizes who we are. “How are you?”
Laura tries to laugh. “I’ve been better.”
Mrs. Blakely walks to Laura’s side. “You’re doing amazing.” She takes her vitals and helps her get as comfortable as possible. She even gets Laura to laugh between contractions.
When Laura’s ready to push, Olive and I go to the waiting room.
“Are you nervous?” I ask.
Olive bites her lip and nods. “What if I’m not good at it?”
“Good at what?”
She sighs. “Being a sister.”
“Are you kidding me? You are going to be great at it.”
She raises an eyebrow. “How do you know?”