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Back The Year the Maps Changed Save as PDF
Chapters (75)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Map
  6. Prologue
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. Acknowledgments
  74. About the Author
  75. About the Publisher

He nodded. “It’s just her. She didn’t come over with any other relatives.” Luca headed for my door, but turned back to add, “Her baby’s due in November, so she might be there awhile.”

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27

The Lady in the Garden

And then we were officially free and on winter holidays. It was fine at first, but being home for holidays was so different without Anika or Pop around, and after one day on our own, our excitement turned to mush.

“Maybe she’ll say she can come home today,” Sam said, when we’d just passed Blairgowrie on the bus.

“Yeah, maybe,” I murmured—but I didn’t really think so.

We got to the hospital and headed to Anika’s room. This time as we walked past the hospital’s atrium, the glass-walled courtyard garden for patients and visitors, I looked in to see who might be sitting on the wooden benches and enjoying the garden.

It was just one lady that I could see, sitting there in a loose white hospital gown. She was looking off at one of the far corridors behind the glass, while making gentle circles over a belly that wasn’t nearly as big as Anika’s, but still very round. She had long black hair in a braid that was thrown over her shoulder. And I don’t know why, but I thought she looked so sad sitting there, still as a statue except for her hands making those circles. . . .

“Mom?”

Sam’s voice snapped me back, and when I looked, I saw that he was running toward Anika. She was walking slowly, hanging on to a metal pole that was wheeling beside her and connected by a tube.

He skidded to a stop in front of her and then she reached a hand out to ruffle his hair, but he didn’t dare touch her—she looked worse than she had during our last few visits, all swollen and sore, wincing as she turned to head back to her room. Maybe because walking around was tiring her out, but I could tell Sam was disturbed by how sick Anika looked, how fragile.

When we got there Anika sat on the bed, slowly wriggled back and then heaved her legs up after her.

She was out of breath, and I handed her the plastic cup from her bedside table. She drank quickly and then seemed to breathe a little easier.

“Thank you, my dears,” she said, and smiled at both of us. Then she focused on Sam. “Luca tells me you refused to talk to your dad again last night?”

“Don’t have to if I don’t want to,” he said, but I think he regretted the words when he saw the look Anika gave him.

“Fred, honey—would you mind giving me and Sam a minute alone?”