Page 37 of One Short Summer

My previous thoughts of not having been a good friend overtake me, making me swallow as I try really,reallyhard to keep my facial expressions at bay.

It’s suddenly quiet, and I feel eyes on me.

Did everyone just stop talking and decide to look at me instead?

“Please tell her I’ll call her later, okay?” I barely look at him long enough to see the nod he gives me before I make my way over to the hospital bed.

Dahlia looks tired but at least content. The bedside tables, as well as the windowsill, are filled with flowers and cards, some of them looking hand-drawn. I wonder if some of the kids from the academy made them for her.

Bending, I give her a half-armed hug before I sit down on the padded chair beside the bed. “You scared us. Couldn’t wait for someone to help you, huh? Just as stubborn as the rest of your family.”

Her quiet laughter fills the room. “Well, you were gone, so things got a little boring around here.”

“Very funny. Next time, just call me when you’re bored, okay?”

“That definitely sounds less painful.” She adjusts her sitting position on the bed and winces.

My hands automatically flutter up, wanting to help somehow. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She grabs a pillow from the side of the bed and pushes it under her casted arm. “There. Much better.”

The cast on her arm is not even a day old, but there are already little doodles on it.

Her eyes follow mine, and she chuckles. “Can you believe it? Rose and Hudson have been awfully unhelpful. Sometimes they are more immature than some of my kids at the academy.” She’s trying to look annoyed, but it’s easy to detect the crinkles in the corners of her eyes.

This family gets on each other’s nerves like nothing else sometimes, but underneath, they are a tightly knit group, there for each other in a heartbeat and without a question. Being an only child, I never had anything like that growing up. The closest thing I had to a sister was Charlie, and that was enough for me.

Looking over my shoulder, I stare at the two people in question, who both give me huge grins. “I believe it in a second.” I chuckle and turn back around, pointing toward the “get well” cards that look like they were drawn with crayons and markers. “Did your kids from the academy make these?”

A big smile spreads across her face. “They did. Those kids are seriously the sweetest.” She leans back and rests her head on the white pillow. “I swear, I’m so mad this happened. I can’t believe I won’t be able to teach my art classes for several weeks now. Or maybe even months until this cast comes off.”

She points at the offensive piece of plaster adorning her broken limb.

“I’m so sorry. That must be incredibly hard for you.” Dahlia’s academy is her everything, and now she can’t even do her job she loves so much.

I wonder if it feels similar to how I felt without dancing—like the limb you used for your art is not just broken, but actually entirely severed. The pain engulfing you, making you so miserable, it pulls you into a deep, dark hole that holds you prisoner if you don’t pay close enough attention.

“Don’t worry, sis. I can help if you need me.” Gabe comes up on the other side of the bed, bending down to kiss her on the forehead.

The hero, as always.

“Hey, Gabe.” She squeezes his arm with her good hand. “It’s good to have you back. It feels like you guys were gone forever.” The smile on her face is tired but genuine.

Gabe snorts. “We just barely left a couple of weeks ago. It was only a short trip, but I’m definitely glad we got to spend some time up there.”

“I have to visit again sometime soon. It’s such a relaxing place.” She has a distant look on her face before looking back and forth between us. “You two had a good time then?”

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure.”

“Absolutely.”

Gabe and I answer at the same time, our words a jumbled mess.

Dahlia is the only one that laughs, but thankfully, she doesn’t seem to notice our odd reaction. “You two are so cute together.”

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