“Sorry. Meet my super ancient and wise sister.”
“Dork.” April rolled her eyes before giving me another critical look. “I told Jasper to find us a Neptune and you’re not a bad look-alike, but you need to own it more. Like maybe don’t look like we’re asking you to chew glass.”
“Damn. You’re ice cold.” Kellan sounded impressed, and honestly, so was I. April had a lot of personality packed into a small package, and I liked how she wasn’t afraid to tell it like it was.
“Sorry.” Straightening my shoulders, I tried to force myself to relax. Mine was hardly the most outrageous costume in the group. And everyone else was laughing and joking and acting like this was the highlight of their week.
“Okay.” Jasper clapped his hands, the clear leader of this motley group. Like his sister, he had a natural take-charge quality to him that I’d always admired. Jasper got stuff done. “Everyone ready?”
No. No, I was not ready to see yet more people. And privately, I was a little worried about seeing sick kids. Unlike Jasper’s family, I didn’t have a lot of experience with small children in the hospital. I didn’t like the idea of kids being so close to something awful. I’d seen enough medical stuff myself the past few years to not want that for anyone, let alone a kid who should be out playing. My back tensed. I hoped I didn’t freak out. But everyone else was nodding and murmuring, so all I could do was mutter, “Sure.”
Jasper pursed his mouth and positioned himself next to me, almost like he expected me to make a run for freedom. But I wouldn’t. I said I’d do this, so I would, no matter how chilly my bare legs were and no matter how embarrassing this became. I’d stick it out so that I could earn Jasper’s help and maybe also so he’d stop expecting the worst where I was concerned. I didn’t fool myself into thinking we could be friends again, but I wouldn’t mind elevating myself in his opinion some. And if it took being Neptune to do that, then so be it.
Chapter Seven
Jasper
This was my favorite part of the week, especially when I got to do it with April by my side. I liked walking the hospital corridors in costume, getting smiles from passersby. I knew firsthand how scary it could be visiting loved ones in the hospital, and if we made a sibling or grandparent grin for a minute, that meant a lot to me. And the doctors and nurses worked so hard that I liked bringing some lightness to their days too. Like the doctors earlier in the restroom. We’d made them laugh, and maybe Milo couldn’t see the value in that, but I did.
Not that I expected Milo to see any of this my way. April was right. He looked like he was chewing glass as we made our way down the hall, jaw set, eyes straight ahead, shoulders back. He might as well be a prisoner we were escorting to an interrogation. He stiffened further as we reached the large and airy patient lounge favored by some of the older patients and their families—lots of art supplies and games and puzzles, and less of the toys and play equipment of the spaces intended for tiny kids.
“Smile,” I ordered Milo as we paused at the door.
“Trying.” His smile looked closer to that of a dog with a bellyache, and I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or groan.
“Try harder.”
“Hey, Jasper! How’s it going?” Natalie, the room attendant greeted us, her Disney-print scrubs as cheerful as the rest of the colorful space.
“Great.” I moved aside so everyone else could enter the room.
“You brought a new Neptune with you!” She smiled at Milo, who managed a nod.
“Yup. This is Milo.” I gestured at him, almost accidentally hitting him in the chest. He was sticking close to me, and his nerves would be endearing if it were anyone else.
“Hey.”
The kids had taken notice of our group, and moving slowly, they clustered around us. I loved feeling like an actual superhero for a moment, even if my superpowers couldn’t extend as far as I’d like. Some kids were in pajamas and slippers, while others were in hospital gowns and robes. A few had IV poles with them, and as usual some were in wheelchairs while a couple of others had walkers. We got some smiles and waves from those who had seen us before, and as much as I didn’t want any kid to have a long hospitalization, making our regulars happy made my insides all warm.
“So, who’s up for a game of Odyssey?” I asked the group.
“Are you going to let me win this week?” Jenny, an imp of a girl who reminded me a lot of a younger April, offered me a toothy grin as she leaned on her walker.
“No chance.” I wasn’t going to play one of my best decks, but I’d still give her a good game.
“I want to play Prince Neptune.” Chase, another regular, spoke up from his wheelchair. His eyes were more tired this week, his skin pale, head slumping forward. His dad, who was an ever-present fixture on the ward, hovered nearby.
“I…uh…” Milo swallowed several times. His own skin was a worrisome shade of greenish-white. Crap. The guy couldn’t even manage five minutes in costume. I should have known.
“Sure thing,” I answered for Milo. He’d play Chase even if I had to personally shuffle for him and push him into a chair. “Let us get the decks out.”
I steered Milo toward the table in the back of the room that I always used as a staging area for the decks and props.
“What’s your problem?” I demanded as soon as we were out of earshot.
“I don’t have one.” His expression was more pained than sullen, but I still wasn’t impressed.
“Yeah, you do. You think you’re too good to play some kids?”
“No! That’s not it.” Milo was quick with the denial before pausing to lick his lips. Gaze darting away, he still radiated discomfort. He lowered his voice further. “I… Other than April when she was little, I haven’t been around a lot of sick kids. Like that boy… He’s really sick.”
Oh. His reaction made a little more sense now. I’d been volunteering so long that I forgot that not everyone was used to sick kids and medical equipment. And Milo’s unease stemming from a place of uncertainty and compassion was better than him continuing to freak out over being seen in costume.
“He is.” I softened my tone and put a hand on his arm. His very bare, very warm arm. Oops. I shouldn’t have touched him, and my voice sped up as a result. “Prince Neptune is his favorite character. He was in the hospital in the fall, and Ronnie always played with him. So how about you don’t let him down?”
“I’ll try.” Milo’s nod was firmer now, and he accepted the two introductory-level decks I handed him.
“Good. Let Chase play the purple deck. It’s his favorite. And you’ll need to shuffle for him.”
“Got it.” Milo headed over to the small table where Chase and his dad were already waiting. I took another two decks over to where Jenny was waiting to kick my ass. April and the others also found kids to visit with or play. Jenny was a good enough player that I needed to focus on the game, but my attention kept wandering over to Milo’s table.
To my surprise, he was smiling. He laughed at something Chase said before plunking down a card, arm muscles flexing, crown catching the light. Damn. He really was the perfect Neptune. He’d never accept the compliment, but he did regal well, and the white of the toga contrasted nicely with his Italian looks. Something about the gold jewelry worked for him, too, and my brain kept buzzing with unwelcome thoughts about teasing his ears and neck.
“Jasper! How are the games going?” Ned, the administrator of the hospital’s charitable foundation, came into the room, followed by a young, dark-haired woman a little older than me. I paused my game with Jenny so that I could give them my attention.
“Great.” I’d worked with Ned on some projects for the kids before, but my main contact with him had been through my parents when they’d needed to apply to the foundation for assistance with April’s many hospital bills.
“And how nice to see April full of energy.” Last time I’
d seen Ned, April had been fighting off another bacterial infection, and he’d stopped by to see how my parents were holding up.
“Yup. We’re lucky.” And we were. Not all families got to bring their loved ones home, and I tried to never lose sight of that. We owed a ton to this place, to both the doctors and the administration. Thanks to Ned and the foundation, my parents hadn’t had to lose their house when bills continued to mount.
“I wanted to come see your group today because Allison wants to tell you about our latest fundraising efforts for the foundation.”
“Yes.” Allison had a big smile and a bubbly voice. “Every year we do a big fancy dinner and silent auction, but this year we’re doing something a little different.”
“And fun,” Ned added. He was like a proud grandpa, and I couldn’t wait to hear Allison’s idea.
“Yes! Fun. Costumes. It’s going to be a costume ball.”
“Oh my gosh. That sounds so cool.” April appeared at our table, undoubtedly sensing the possibility of getting all fancy. But the annual fundraiser was the sort of thing with seats going for three digits and big law firms and accounting firms buying tables for their partners.
“Yeah, it does. But I bet tickets are going to be pricey.” I tried not to sound regretful. We wanted the foundation to raise tons of money, and I didn’t want them lowering prices just so some broke college students could attend. But then Allison smiled wider.
“Well, we’re aiming for the corporate sponsors, true. But we’re also asking a few of our regular visitor groups to join us. Mingle with the guests, do pictures, help make sure everyone’s having fun.”
“I want to do it.” April bounced on her feet, practically quivering like a puppy. Homeschooling really was getting to her, and I wanted her to have this opportunity. And if it helped the foundation raise money, I’d be there.
“I’m in.” I nodded, loving how April gave a happy laugh in response.
“And the rest of the group?” Allison pulled a small notebook from a pocket in her cardigan. “I’ll need to know how many tickets to comp.”
“We’ll need Neptune,” April said, predictably eager, while I was still counting in my head.
“I’m not sure…” Getting Milo to do this more than once probably wasn’t going to happen, let alone something with bigwigs. Even now, I could see him eyeing Ned and Allison like they were seconds away from laughing at us, more of that unease he’d had with the doctors rolling off him.
“You know everyone’s going to want a picture with him.” April made the puppy-dog face she did so well that had gotten me into this mess with Milo to start with.
“He is rather…impressive.” Allison smiled in his direction, but Milo busied himself with his game with Chase. Maybe his empathy for Chase could convince him to don the costume more than this once. Maybe.
“I’ll ask him.” Heck. Now I needed Milo to continue this gig, and that was not a comfortable thought at all. I much preferred being the guy swooping in with the big save, not the person needing a hand. My neck itched. He’d better agree. And now I had that much more pressure to help him find the replacement cards. I might need more than good luck to pull this off.
Chapter Eight
Milo
“So, on a scale of terrifying to terrible, how bad was that?” Jasper’s smug grin as we packed up our stuff said that he already knew my answer.
“I had fun.” I wasn’t lying. Once I’d gotten over the more…breezy aspects of the costume, I’d relaxed considerably even though it was still weirdly uncomfortable being in a hospital for no medical or personal reason. Seeing how the kids reacted to us had further unknotted my shoulders. They were so happy to see Jasper and his squad, and they acted like Neptune was a pop star, not merely an illustration on some cardboard. After a while, I’d become more into the whole thing, smiling for some pictures and playing a second round with Chase and another kid.
“Not too weirded out by the medical stuff?” Pausing from putting away the card decks, Jasper gave me a considering look.
“Nah.” Actually, I had been at first, especially because of my own past. But I wanted to impress Jasper for reasons that were probably best not deeply considered. However, the longer he looked at me, the more truth slipped past my bravado. “Okay, it maybe took a little getting used to. I just…feel bad for them. I dunno.”
“It’s called compassion, Milo. Might be unfamiliar to you.” Jasper laughed like he was making some big joke, but I didn’t join in. Jasper didn’t know shit about what I’d been through the past few years.
All of a sudden, I’d had enough of this stupid costume. I pulled off the crown and shoved it in the costume bag. “That’s not fair.”
Jasper simply gave me another long look. And okay, I got where his sarcasm was coming from. I didn’t like it, but I got it. I’d been an asshole to him in high school, hadn’t stuck by him, hadn’t stood up for him when I knew good and well that I should have. It was easier to see what a jerk I’d been, especially now that I was trying to shake free of that world.
“I tried to apologize the other night. And I probably suck at apologies, but can we maybe not relitigate my past sins every five minutes?” Maybe text message wasn’t the best medium for a grand apology. I didn’t know because I hadn’t tried to make that many before. But somehow Jasper made me want to try to be something more. “I’m not that person anymore.”
Jasper gave a heavy sigh as he resumed putting the last of the decks away and zipping up the bags. “That remains to be seen. However, you did do a good job of making Chase smile.”
“I tried.”
“I believe you.” Jasper’s tone was less biting now.
And maybe he didn’t believe my apology, but at least he believed that I’d been sincere with the kids, and that mattered. Some of the tightness in my chest loosened. “Thanks.”
His smile also took on a warmer cast. “And now I can make good on my promise to help you.”
“Here?” There were still some families in the lounge area, although Jasper’s other friends had already headed out. His mom had come for his sister, and she’d had a hard stare of her own for me, which I supposed was understandable, all things considered. God only knew what she’d heard via the mom gossip network on top of the shit I’d actually done.
“No, not here. They have a movie night coming in next. Let’s go to the cafeteria. The Wi-Fi is pretty strong there.”
“Dressed like this?” I looked down at my toga. The administration people who had stopped by had been pretty chill, but I wasn’t exactly dressed for the coffee bar. The idea of more speculative looks made my back sweat.
Jasper shrugged because of course he had no such issues. “I don’t mind. I like making people smile.”
“You’re good at that.”
“Why, thank you.” Fully in character for a second, Jasper gave me a courtly bow and a wink. Then he straightened, regular Jasper again. “And if you want to change, we can do that.”
“Yeah, I’m a little chilly.” More like I was still slightly embarrassed, but I didn’t want a lecture.
“Okay, okay. Back to civvies.” Jasper led the way to the public restroom near the elevators.
“Ha. You sound like Bruno.” I laughed, but inside, I tensed up at the reminder of why I was even here. Bruno had the military-speak down, along with that take-charge attitude. He was the better person for sure, and knowing how badly I’d let him down weighed on me, made my movements slower as I changed clothes.
Jasper was done first and was waiting on me when I emerged from the stall. He was back to a hooded sweatshirt and faded jeans, average college-student wear, but I could still see traces of the Frog Wizard in him. The regal posture. The knowing smile. The light, confident movements as he headed to the cafeteria. He always had a bounce to his step, that extra bit of energy that others lacked.
The cafeteria h
ad a number of food stations including a coffee bar. And damn, I was tired. And thirsty.
“Do you want a drink?” I asked as Jasper pulled a sleek laptop out of his backpack. “I can get us something while you get booted up.”
“Thanks. Yes, actually. Soda. M—”
“Mountain Dew. I remember.” He’d always had such a sweet tooth and a thing for the junk food his mom seldom stocked.
He met my gaze, and years of history passed between us. Sodas and sleepovers and secrets. “Appreciate it.”
I retrieved a bottle of soda for him because he always liked bottles more than fountain drinks and an espresso for myself. Taking the seat next to Jasper, I moved the chair so I could see the screen too. This put me close enough to smell him again, and our sleeves brushed. My body took way too much of an interest in his nearness, but I also couldn’t move away without looking like a dick.
“You drink coffee?” Jasper raised an eyebrow as I slid him his soda.
“I got into bullet-proof coffee at college because some of the guys I trained with swore by it. And I had an early-morning PT appointment on the other side of town. I need some caffeine, but unlike you, I can’t handle all that sugar anymore.”
“If I didn’t run on junk food, I’d starve.” Jasper was already clicking around his laptop, opening browser tabs with impressive speed.
“Like your mom would let that happen.” His mom wasn’t a health nut, but with five kids, she did a lot more home-cooked meals than mine, especially when they were all younger.
“Truth.” Laughing, Jasper took a swig of his soda, then gestured at his machine. “Okay. Let’s start our hunt. I’ve bookmarked some of the most likely places. A simple search engine isn’t going to turn up much.”
“I know. I tried,” I groaned. I had looked. Saturday night after the whole mess with George, I’d tried to see what I could find before I’d had the courage to ask Jasper for help. “And I suck at searching. Like, there’s 2,000 results, and after five or so, they all start bleeding together in my brain.”
Out of Character Page 5
