“Mom, you know Slate,” Knox said.

I turned my attention to his mother. “Hello, Mrs. McKinley. Thanks for having me.”

She waved a hand at me. “Now, I’ve told you to just call me Karen. We’re past the proper ‘Mrs. McKinley.’ We’ve had pound cake and coffee together too many times for that.” Her smile was genuine. I had always felt like she wanted me around when I’d come by Vale’s hospital room.

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied with a smile.

Knox stepped toward his sister and I was able to focus on her again.

“And this, as you know, is Vale. Vale, my frat brother Slate. Although he spent plenty of time in your hospital room reading to you, you’ve never actually met.”

Her smile wasn’t real. Her eyes looked too lost to truly smile. But she tried.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, moving toward me to greet me with a handshake, which I thought was cute. It didn’t last long, though. Her tiny hand was gone too soon and she then gave the attention back to the bread she was buttering.

“We’re almost ready to eat. Your dad is out back messing with that old engine in the lawn mower again. I swear that man is too stubborn for his own good. We need to just buy a new one, for goodness’s sake.”

Knox nodded. “So I need to go get him. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes, you run and get him and have him wash up. Slate, why don’t you have a seat anywhere you like around the table and I’ll bring you a fresh glass of sweet tea. I want to hear how your uncle is doing.”

Knox patted me on the back. “Sorry, bro, she’s nosy. It comes with the food,” he whispered, then headed to the back door of the kitchen.

“Uncle D is playing hardball. Won’t take the chemo treatments and they’re talking about sending him home next week. But I know he’ll be smoking a pack a day once we get there and that’s no good.”

I glanced over at Vale and she was watching me. Listening. There was concern in her eyes and I knew it was for my uncle. Something about that got to me. A girl who had just woken up from a coma to find out she had missed a month of her life, caring about someone else’s problems. Most girls I knew were too shallow.

“What happens if he doesn’t have the chemo?” Vale asked. She had a really good voice. The sadness in her eyes was hard to look at. It bothered me. A girl like her should be protected. Not have to face hard shit.

“He’ll die sooner. The chemo won’t cure him. Just prolong his life.”

She sighed and put her knife down. “I don’t know that I blame him. Chemo sounds like a terrible thing. But for you, I’m very sorry. I wouldn’t want my parents to go earlier than they had to, either.”

The frankness of her words was refreshing. She didn’t try to make it sound better. I needed that.

“Could you get him to stop smoking when he goes home? Might help things,” Karen said. That was the kind of suggestion I was used to.

“I don’t expect that would be fair, Momma. He’s a sick man and he is dying. Why take away something he enjoys? Would that really help at this point?” Again, Vale’s words were exactly what I was thinking. She got it. She made me feel more human. Stating my thoughts as if they made sense.

Karen nodded and let out a sigh. “I suppose you’re right.”

Vale didn’t respond. Instead she put the bread in the oven, then washed the butter from her hands and dried them. I watched her every move. She was fascinating. This girl who I had thought about so often over the past few weeks. Even before she woke up.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

VALE

IT WAS HARD not to watch Slate Allen during dinner. He was beautiful, but there was something more there. Something I didn’t understand, but I wanted to. It was like I knew him. He had read to me while I was in my coma. Which I understood was because he was friends with Knox and up at the hospital visiting his uncle. He was just being nice.

I wanted to do something nice for him. Momma had sent food to Slate and his uncle over the past weeks. But I felt like I owed them both a thank-you. For Slate taking time to give my family a break while sitting with me, and for his uncle giving up the time he had with Slate for me. I just wasn’t sure yet what that might be.

“I think I’ve convinced Mom and Dad to let Vale go to school next month. I promised to bring her home once a week for rehab until they release her. But she’s kicking ass right now—” Knox was cut off by the clearing of Momma’s throat.

“Language, please,” she said, frowning at him.

Knox just chuckled. “Sure. Sorry.” He cut his eyes to Slate and grinned. I was sure they both talked a lot worse than that at college. This year Knox would move in to the frat house. I wondered if Slate lived there, too.

“Are you ready to go?” Slate asked, and I felt his gaze locked on me.

I was. And I wasn’t. Before, it had been mine and Crawford’s dream. Now it was just mine. He had come back to the hospital the next day and we had managed to talk some about school and my plans. He kept telling me he missed me and wanted to be near me.

I softened to him some, but I still wasn’t the girl I had been. I wasn’t going back to her, either. She had lost herself. And I had found her again.

“I’m already enrolled and my first semester is paid for, so I would hate to miss that. Plus there’s no reason for me to stay here.” That was the best answer I had. Because the truth was, Bington was really Crawford’s choice. Not mine.

“It sounds like you’re not sure,” Slate said, studying me. He didn’t seem to care that my brother and mother were in the room listening to us. It was like it was just us and no one else was there.

“I’m nervous. Unsure, I guess.”

“You’ll be fine. I’m there,” Knox said, patting me on the back for reassurance.

I knew that, but I still was having nightmares. Of the wreck. Those last seconds before everything went black. My family wasn’t talking about it, but they knew. Mom had slept in my room last night to wake me when they started.

The doorbell rang and Mom stood up, placing the napkin in her lap to the right of her plate. “Not sure who that could be,” she said to herself more than anyone else. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

“What day are you planning on moving?” Slate asked me. He seemed curious about my decisions and future. That was odd, but the way he looked at me—as if he could see something there important—I wanted to answer him.

“Not sure. We didn’t talk about that. Just that I would be going.”

Before anyone else could say more, Mom returned … and with her was Crawford. He glanced at Knox with a nod, then at Slate. He didn’t seem very interested in who Slate was, and his attention moved directly to me.

“Seems we have another dinner guest,” Mom said, motioning for Crawford to sit down across from me.

“No, ma’am. I’ve already eaten, but thank you. I just wanted to speak with Vale a minute if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” Mom replied, and I felt like pointing out I was in the middle of eating, but I didn’t want to be rude. So I stood up and motioned my head toward the door to the kitchen.

“This way,” I directed, and realized again how I had just made a decision. I hadn’t allowed Crawford to determine where we would talk. I didn’t wait on him but went on outside and let him follow.