“Man,” he said. “I don’t even know what day it is. We’ve only been here a week, but it seems like forever.”

The clock on the wall ticked off seconds that felt like minutes as they sat together, with Peyton searching for something—anything—to say. Alone with Lisa on a moonlit night in Savannah, he would’ve had so much to tell her—and so much he wanted to hear her say. But not in this place. Here, the words wouldn’t come. Hospitals held such suffering that it seemed any flashes of joy inside their walls might somehow be tainted.

Finally, Lisa broke the silence. “My sister and I could run some sandwiches over for y’all. Can’t imagine eating hospital food as long as you have.”

“That’s mighty sweet of you, but we won’t be here after today. There’s a doctor in from California—an old friend of Mama’s. He says Daddy needs surgery and we have to get him to Atlanta right away. That’s what we’re doing this afternoon, before my Uncle Julian finds out. He wants to get Daddy sent to Milledgeville.”

Lisa frowned. “But isn’t that . . .”

“Yeah. It’s where the asylum is. My uncle’s not a very nice man. We don’t have much time to get Daddy out o’ here.”

“Listen, I’m sorry I barged in like this. I shouldn’t have come.” Lisa stood up to leave, but he followed her to the door and took her by the hand.

“Please don’t go,” he said. “I’m just—I’m just so glad to see you. I really miss you, Lisa.” They stood close together in the empty waiting room. Kissing a beautiful girl in such a sterile place, with his father lying unconscious down the hall and his mother hanging by a thread, would be all kinds of wrong. Even so, that’s exactly what he wanted to do. But nurses kept walking by, some glancing, some glaring.

“Hey, what’s goin’ on out there?” he asked Lisa, nodding toward a window and taking a few steps back to get them out of the doorway.

“The usual, I guess,” she said with a shrug. “Everybody goes from the lake or the beach to the movie theater and back again. Typical spring around here, from what everybody says. I imagine summer will bring more of the same.”

“You been going to the movies a lot?”

“A few times.”

“With your girlfriends?” Afraid of the answer, he stared at the floor as he waited for it.

“If there’s something on your mind, you should tell me.”

He looked up at her. Man, those eyes. “I was wondering . . . I mean . . . not that I’d blame you with me cooped up in here for so long . . . wouldn’t expect you to just sit at home . . .”

“Are you trying to ask me if I’ve been going out with other boys?”

He took a deep breath for courage. “Yes.”

“A couple of times,” she said. “But only because Mama insisted. Why?”