Hope - Levy, Marc (web ebook reader .TXT) 📗

she told her father everything there was to tell, about her studies and her dream of one day finding a cure for forgetfulness. What she didn’t tell him was that she was embarking on a new project with Josh and Luke.

As was his custom, Sam told her about his patients and the afternoons he spent at the hospital. He told her how he had his heart set on becoming unit head, along with every other doctor at the hospital, and how he had so many ideas and hopes for the future. Every now and then, he would mention Amelia, and Hope would tell him about Josh as time ticked steadily on.

The lunch had flown by without their realizing, although every now and then Hope’s attentions had wavered as she thought back to Josh, perhaps because she wished he were there.

They were browsing the dessert menu when Sam’s phone pinged. Amelia had sent him a message to say she was going shopping, urging him to make the most of his time with his daughter. She told him to meet her back at the hotel at the end of the day. The conference didn’t start until six o’clock.

“What would you say to skipping class?” Sam asked Hope.

“Is that a trick question? Are you trying to get a sense of how serious a student I am?”

“No, just trying to get a sense of how much you want to spend time with your old dad. Thought I’d lead you astray.”

“I only have class in the mornings.”

“In that case, let’s go for a stroll. I don’t get enough fresh air these days. And you can tell me how you met Jason.”

Hope rolled her eyes, and they set off for a walk along the riverbank. They huddled together on a bench overlooking the water, and reminisced over Hope’s childhood, and the woman they both missed, for there are memories that time cannot erase.

“When Mom died, I latched on to my sadness, and I still do. It felt like if the sadness dissipated, she would fall away too. It would be like losing her twice. The only thing I still had of her was her memory and my sadness,” Hope told her father.

Sam turned to her and gazed into her eyes.

“You know, a few colleagues and I opened a clinic at the hospital, for people who don’t have the money to seek treatment. Clinic’s a big word,” he corrected himself. “It’s more of a dispensary. This year, we’re seeing a new type of client. Refugees, as they call them on the news. People fleeing the violence of the cartels, people who abandon everything they have to cross the border.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“There are places in the world where death claims so many lives that their loved ones can’t afford to grieve for longer than a day. Sometimes all they have is an hour. And death is forgotten, because new life replaces the old, again and again, and if you don’t give everything you’ve got to survive, death will come for you too. That’s the everyday reality of people who have suffered through war, people dying of hunger, falling under tyrants’ bullets. It makes me think we’re privileged to have the luxury of missing your mother so much.”

Hope and Sam walked until dusk fell, and she promised her father she would visit him in the summer. Sam assured her he would be back in the spring, that he would come to visit her again as soon as he could. They parted ways at the intersection, and although Sam had offered to walk her home, Hope pretended she would prefer to walk alone, ignoring the pang of guilt she felt at lying to him. As soon as her father’s outline slipped out of view, she called Josh.

“Hey,” she said. Her voice was feeble. “Can you come and pick me up?”

Sam met up with Amelia at the hotel bar, where she was waiting for him, clad in an evening dress.

“That suits you. Did you just buy it?”

“This old thing? You’ve seen me in it at least three times before. I spent the afternoon calling clients from the room.”

“You didn’t go shopping?”

“You really underestimate me.” She smiled. “How did it go with Hope?”

“Well.”

“You’re going to hate me for saying this, but you know what? Josh is a great guy.”

“Just between you and me, Hope thought you were lovely.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. But it’s kind of you to lie. Or kind of her . . .”

Hope had turned back to sit on a bench and wait, when a cab pulled up alongside the sidewalk. Josh waved at her, paid the cab driver, and hurried over.

“You got a cab?”

“It sounded urgent.”

“I’m making you do dumb stuff.” Hope shook her head. “We really can’t afford cabs.”

“We can afford it when it matters. Let’s not go overboard.”

“How was the zoo?”

“Full of elephants, giraffes, lions. Tigers. There were even zebutans.”

“What’s a zebutan?”

“The offspring of a zebra and an orangutan.” He looked at her. “I’m only kidding. We didn’t go to the zoo. I took her to this vegan joint near campus. It was gross, but she pretended to like it. She’s actually really nice.”

“Did she notice you checking her out?”

“Are you okay, Hope?”

“I can’t complain.” Hope shrugged. “There are people out there unhappier than me.”

“It’s dumb to think you don’t get to be sad because there are people who are sadder. It’s as dumb as thinking you shouldn’t be happy because happier people exist.”

“My dad asked if we were serious.”

“And you said . . . ?”

“I said I loved you because you’re not a serious kind of guy.”

“You told him you loved me!” Josh exclaimed.

“Do you love me?”

“I’m going to tell you something, Hope. Something I haven’t told anyone, not even Luke. I’m a fake. You don’t know how hard I try not to grow up. I want to feel as excited as when I was twelve. I want to be mesmerized by a girl and her dad