“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.”