“You’re going to do it, right, Dad?” I ask.

“Emily,” he sighs. “If I do this, you’re coming home.”

My voice is a whisper. “Yes, Dad. I understand.”

“I’m sending the jet for you now.”

“I need a day, Dad. I need for you to handle this now. And I need another day. If you’ll give me that much time, I’ll come home and I’ll do whatever you want.” I’m pleading with him now.

He waits. And I hear his pen click over and over. “Ok,” he breathes. “I’m sending the jet now. It’ll be waiting when you’re ready at the airport.”

“Take care of this for me, Dad.” I roll my forehead back and forth across the tiles. “Please. Promise me.”

“I’d do anything for you, Em,” he reminds me.

“I’ll see you in a couple of days,” I whisper.

“Two days, Em,” he says. “No longer.” And before the line goes dead, I hear him yelling details to his secretary. I hear Matt’s name. And I hear him tell her to handle it. It’ll get done. I’m sure of it.

I walk back to the waiting room. The doctor is gone and all the boys are standing there with their arms around one another. “What happened?” I ask.

They move away from one another. “They’re moving him to a room. He’s awake. We can go see him in just a minute,” Paul explains.

I drop into a chair. My legs will no longer support me.

A few minutes later, a nurse summons the boys to follow her. Logan takes my hand and tugs me along with them. “I’m not family,” I say.

“Shut up,” he murmurs. He brushes a strand of hair back that’s stuck to my lip.

I let him tow me along.

“You can only stay for a few minutes,” the nurse warns.

The boys are giddy with excitement. She pushes back a curtain and Matt’s there in the bed. There are tubes and wires and he’s hooked up to monitors. “What’s up, guys?” he asks. He winces and adjusts himself in the bed.

“The next time you want to die, don’t do it on Kit’s watch, you sorry f**ker,” Logan says out loud. The room goes quiet. A tear rolls down Logan’s cheek and Matt reaches out a hand for him. Logan grabs it, palm to palm, their thumbs wrapped together like men do, and falls into his chest. Sam and Pete put their arms around one another and Paul is just standing there, so I lean into his side. He throws an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into him.

Matt finally lets Logan go and says, “Shit, when did you learn to talk?”

Logan shrugs.

“This girl is teaching him all sorts of new shit,” Paul says, squeezing me tightly.

“What happened?” Logan asks. He’s signing while he talks out loud.

“I had a date to snuggle with your girl on the couch and we were going to watch a movie,” Matt says. “Next thing I know, she has my head in her lap, instead.” He looks over at me, an impish twinkle in his eye. “If you wanted to hold me, Kit, you could have just asked.” He chuckles.

“You remember?” I ask.

He grins this unrepentant grin. “I’ll never, ever forget the day you threw Logan over to hold me in your arms.”

Logan chuckles. Out loud. Everyone looks at him and he shrugs.

“You going to keep talking, bro?” Paul asks cautiously.

Logan shrugs again.

Paul squeezes me.

Suddenly, a team of doctors rushes into the room. “What’s wrong?” Paul barks.

The doctor comes in a moment later. “We’re going to be moving Matt to a different facility,” he explains. “So he can begin that treatment we discussed.”

“What?” Matt’s dumbfounded. As are the rest of them.

The doctor holds up his hands to silence them. “Don’t get too hopeful,” he says. “But now there’s a chance where there wasn’t one before.”

“There’s a chance he might live?” Paul asks.

The doctor smiles and claps Paul on the shoulder. “A small one, yes.”

“How?”

“I’m still working all that out.” The doctor looks at me, but I break eye contact.

The room is barraged with activity, and the nurses get ready to move Matt. “There’s a helicopter waiting,” the nurse explains.

“How?” Paul asks again.

Matt reaches for each of them in turn. He hugs his brothers. Then he hugs me to him last. “Take care of them,” he says. “No matter what.”

I nod. I’m doing that the only way I know how.

Logan

My brothers are solemn on the way back home. It’s early afternoon on Saturday, and I look down at my watch. “Shit,” I say.

“What?” Paul asks.

“I have an appointment for a tat this afternoon.” Kit’s walking beside me but she has been lost in her own world since we left the hospital. “I guess I can cancel.”

“Are you too tired to do it?” Paul asks.

Honestly, I’m so full of adrenaline right now I could climb mountains. And pick them up and throw them. I shake my head.

“So, why not do it?” he asks.

“Matt,” I say. Just that one word.

Paul claps me on the shoulder. “They won’t let us see him for forty eight hours, dummy,” he reminds me.

That’s right. They are going to do a bunch of tests and scans and shit and told us that he can’t see anyone until at least Monday. Until he’s settled in. I’m hopeful. I’m so hopeful and I haven’t been hopeful for weeks. I’ve watched Matt decline more and more, and I was at the point where I was coming to terms with it. But hope has bloomed within me. It’s not fair. It’s not fair at all. What if he still doesn’t get better? I have to believe he’ll make it.