He glanced toward Martha.
"Would you both come with me? Just for a few minutes."
"I think you deserve to know."
Martha looked up at me. "Are we in trouble?"
Dr. Collins chuckled. "Quite the opposite."
***
He led us back through the oncology ward we'd just said goodbye to.
He walked past the nurses' station, past the treatment rooms, and stopped outside an old conference room I'd never entered before.
When he opened it, I couldn't move.
"Are we in trouble?"
The room was full.
Not with strangers.
Nearly everyone who had quietly become part of our lives over the last two years was waiting inside.
Martha whispered, "Is this... for me?"
"It is," Dr. Collins said softly.
The room was filled with smiles that looked strangely difficult to hold.
Dr. Collins folded his hands. "For two years," he said, "you believed your daughter's medical team ended with the people wearing white coats."
He shook his head. "It never did."
"Is this... for me?"
I looked around, confused. "I don't understand."
Angela laughed through tears. "None of us wanted you to."
Dr. Collins continued. "Every Thursday after our afternoon rounds, whoever had time gathered in this room."
My eyebrows lifted. "You had meetings?"
He smiled. "Not about blood counts." He looked toward Martha. "They were about her."
He reached into a folder and unfolded several pages.
"They were about her."
He read aloud.
"What made Martha smile this week?"
Silence settled over the room.
He looked up.
"Who's making her laugh before Friday's procedure?"
He turned another page.
"Does anyone have a new card game?"
"Can somebody bring bubbles?"
"Who remembers she gets nervous before spinal taps?"
"What made Martha smile this week?"
I stared at him. "You planned all of that?"
Mr. Howard scratched the back of his neck. "Somebody had to."
Angela laughed. "It became surprisingly competitive."
Martha tilted her head. "Competitive?"
"The dinosaur pancakes," one cafeteria cook admitted. "We argued over who got to make them."
Another cook nodded. "I practiced at home."
"You planned all of that?"
Martha gasped. "They weren't on the menu?"
"No. They were just for you, sweetheart."
Martha's mouth slowly fell open.
The security guard raised one hand.
"My turn." He grinned. "I never forgot my access badge."
Martha blinked. "You didn't?"
