Page 43 of A Thousand Little Goodbyes

“Whatever. It’s just cotton candy.” She shoved the toy narwhal at Chrissie. “And this is for you. I beat Grimshaw at the water balloon race—and a good thing, too, because he was going to pick the vaguely racist burrito wearing a sombrero.”

“It was a vaguely racistavocadowearing a sombrero,” he corrected her with a grin. For some reason, he still had his arm around Scarlett’s shoulders, the weight of it like a giant dead snake. He winked at Chrissie. “And I’ll still win it for you if you want. But I should warn you—”

Scarlett’s phone rang before he could warn them of anything. “Hang on,” she said as she dug the phone out of her pocket. “It’s probably just my grandma checking in.”

But when she said hello, the voice on the other end was soft, professional, and not at all what she was expecting.

“Yes, hi. Is this Scarlett Sanderson, Laurel’s granddaughter?”

At the sound of her grandmother’s given name, Scarlett frowned. The only people who used that were scammers and bill collectors—usually the latter. “Yes, it is. But she’s not here right now and I don’t have anything to take a message. You’ll have to call back.”

“No, don’t hang up! I’m calling from the hospital. I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

Scarlett felt her knees grow weak, the cheerful chimes and shouts of the carnival receding into a low, distant hum. “What do you mean? What kind of bad news?”

She didn’t hear the answer. The sounds of the carnival weren’t the only things that were disappearing. Her whole body seemed to be moving down a long, dark tunnel that she remembered well.

Hospitals were bad. Hospitals werealwaysbad.

Scarlett had no idea how or when Chrissie replaced Grimshaw, but she felt her friend’s surprisingly strong arms wrap around her and hold her up. The phone was lifted from her hand before she could do more than sag gratefully against Chrissie’s shoulder.

“Yes, go ahead. This is Chrissie Thomas. Uh-huh. Yep. At OHSU? We’ll be there as soon as we can, thanks.” Chrissie paused. “What was your name again? Oh, right. Thank you, Genie. We really appreciate you calling to let us know.”

Scarlett wasn’t sure why Chrissie’s unfailing ability to act like a middle-aged woman who made good eye contact and always thanked her servers made her laugh, but it did. She was shaking all over and her heart was in a vise that didn’t seem to have any intention of letting up, but she laughed all the same.

Chrissie understood the reaction without the need for explanation.

“Come on, Scarlett. Let’s get you to the hospital. They weren’t ableto give me any details over the phone, but Nan is stable and awake, and that’s enough for now.”

It wasn’t enough, not by a long shot, but Scarlett nodded and let Chrissie lead her away from the carnival rides. She stopped when she realized that both Grimshaw and Mitchell were right behind them.

“What are you doing? You can’t come with us. My grandmother is… That is, she’s not—” She looked to Chrissie in mute appeal, but her friend adopted that same middle-aged, capable air as before.

“It’s okay, Scarlett. Let’s just get you in the car and worry about the rest later.”

Scarlett was tempted to pull rank and get rid of the two Pemberly boys with as little fanfare as possible, but she was being dragged in too many directions at once. Her heart was somewhere in her feet, her head was spinning like the teacups, and her muscles—they were shaking. Why were they shaking?

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” She passed her hand—also shaking—over her eyes and allowed herself to be led away. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had the feeling she’d regret this relaxing of her guard, of allowing Grimshaw and his pukey cousin to slip through her defenses, but for now, all she wanted was to see her grandma.

No matter what the eventual cost.

Chapter FifteenHutchinson, Minnesota

Present Day

That night at the budget hotel, Scarlett slept like the dead.

If anything more had been needed to illustrate that all was not well with Scarlett, it was exactly that: She’d gone to bed at a reasonable hour, her plate of french fries largely untouched and one of Chrissie’s shapeless sleep shirts covering her body. And then she’dstayedasleep. The sunrise had come and gone without Scarlett there to greet it, a breakfast of rubbery eggs and tepid coffee consumed without her commentary.

“Ten fourteen? Is that clock for real?” Scarlett sat bolt upright in the bed, her makeup so smudged that the dark bags under her eyes looked stenciled on. “Chrissie, please tell me you didn’t let me sleep for twelve hours.”

Chrissie and River both looked up from the foot of her bed, where they sat playing Go Fish with a deck of souvenir playing cards they’d found in one of the bedside tables. The game had been a lackluster one, and River had spent most of it looking increasingly uncomfortable with the length of time Scarlett was spending asleep, but none of that mattered as soon as Scarlett’s rich brown eyes popped open.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Chrissie teased as she swept up a pair of threes. “We were starting to worry that we’d have to hit the pool without you.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Scarlett tossed back the covers and bounded to her feet with an energy that made yesterday’s near-faint seem like a faraway dream. “Half the day is gone already. And it’s a nice day, too. Look. The sun is gorgeous.”

“It’ll still be gorgeous this afternoon,” Chrissie promised, unperturbed. “The coffee is cold and the eggs are even colder, but you should probably eat something. You’re looking way too thin, and you know how you get when your blood sugar is low.”