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      â€œMy agent and PA are great, don’t get me wrong. But they see me one way. I don’t think they get how hard this has been for me. Losing those days of my life, and losing Roy, has put me at a disadvantage I’m not used to. There are missing pages in my life.”

      And she could fill in some of those blanks if she had the courage.

      He reached for her hand and laid their entwined fingers on the middle seat between them. “Brooke had good reason to jump ship today. I’m just glad you didn’t bail.”

      â€œI wouldn’t.”

      â€œI know. That’s why I asked you to join me. I can count on you.”

      They reached Children’s West Hospital, a beautiful building with white marble walls and modern lines. The limo slowed to a stop right in the circular drive that led to the entrance.

      â€œReady for the show?”

      Several news crews were waiting like vultures, snapping pictures even before the driver got out of the limo. Dylan made headlines everywhere he went, and his first time out in public since the accident was big news. She recognized Darren, his agent, and Rochelle, his prim assistant, also waiting along the lineup. “Ready.” Emma gave off much more confidence than she was feeling.

      Dylan waited two beats, sighed as if grasping for strength and then nodded to his driver, who had one hand on the door handle. The door opened and photos were snapped immediately. Dylan got out, waved to the crowd and then reached inside to take her hand. She exited the limo and was dragged into the fray by Dylan, who seemed to tighten his hold on her. A hospital official came forward to greet them and introductions were made as security guards ensured that none of the news media followed them into the hospital lobby. His agent and PA also followed behind, eyeing everyone. Still, Emma saw cameras pressed up against the windows, the paparazzi snapping photos of Dylan and his entourage as they moved along the corridors with Richard Jacoby, the hospital administrator, and a few other ranking hospital officials.

      Mr. Jacoby stopped at a double-wide door and turned to their small group. “The children are excited to meet you, Dylan. We’ve gathered our recovering patients here, in the doctor’s lounge. And later, we’ll go up to see the other children who are still in treatment.”

      Emma assumed that he was talking about the kids who couldn’t make it out of bed. Her heart lurched and she braced herself for what was to come.

      â€œAfterward, we’ll shoot your promo spot with Beth and Pauly.”

      â€œSounds good to me,” Dylan said.

      â€œWe had a little movie premiere of His Rookie Year last night for everyone to get acquainted with who you are. Most of them already knew of you. Eddie Renquist was quite a character.”

      The rated-G movie hadn’t won Dylan any awards, but he’d garnered a whole new audience of youngsters with that role. It was on Emma’s Top Ten Favorite list.

      â€œAfter you,” Mr. Jacoby said, and they entered a large room filled with kids of all ages, sitting on grown-up chairs, their eyes as big as the smiles on their faces. They began waving at Dylan. With Emma at his side, he made his way over and spoke to each child. The younger boys called him Eddie and asked him all about baseball, as if he really was a star athlete like his character in the film. Dylan was quite knowledgeable actually and always reminded them he was only acting out a role. Some of them got it, others weren’t quite sure. The girls were all over the map, the teens telling him he was hot and they loved him, while the younger ones wanted to shake his hand or give him a hug.

      Dylan wasn’t stingy with his hugs. He gave them freely and laughed with the kids, shook hands and recited lines from his movies when asked. Some of the kids with shaved heads had peach fuzz growing. They were the lucky ones, the ones who would eventually go home to live normal lives. Some wore back braces or leg casts; others were in wheelchairs. But all in all, every one of them reacted positively to Dylan. He was good with them and managed to bring Emma into the conversation often.

      â€œThis is my friend Emma. She plans parties and knows a lot about everything,” he said.

      â€œHave you ever planned a Cinderella party?” one of the younger girls asked.

      â€œWell, of course. Cinderella and Belle and Ariel are friends of mine,” she said.

      A cluster of little girls surrounded her and asked her dozens of questions.

      Dylan caught her eye and nodded as he continued to make his way around the room. Once Dylan had greeted every single child, he came to stand at the front of the room and asked if they would like to sing a few songs. “Emma has a great voice and knows lots of songs.”

      It wasn’t exactly out of her wheelhouse to entertain children, but this had come out of the blue. “Oh, of course. We can do that.” She jumped right in.

      She led them in Taylor Swift and Katy Perry songs as well as a song from Frozen, for the little ones, and then Mr. Jacoby signaled to her that their time was up. Dylan walked over to his personal assistant and she handed him a packet of cards.

      â€œThanks for giving me a chance to meet you all,” he said to the kids. “I’m going to come around the room again one more time and hand out movie passes for you and your families.”

      And afterward, they were whisked away, riding up in the elevator to the third floor where the really ill children lay in beds. What really struck Emma was how happy all the children seemed to be, despite the bald heads, wires and tubes going through them, limbs in casts and machines humming. Experiencing their unqualified acceptance and genuine gladness to see them was as heartwarming as it was heartbreaking. Emma sent up silent prayers for all of them, wishing that affliction wouldn’t strike ones so young. But their spirit was amazing and many adults, including her, could learn from their sense of joy and gratefulness.

      Dylan treated these kids in the same way he had the others. No pity shone in his eyes; instead, there was a sense of camaraderie and friendship. He was one with them, talking movies and baseball and family with these wonderfully unaffected children.

      â€œIt’s a lot to take in,” Dylan said once they were alone in the hallway.

      â€œThey’re sweet kids.”

      â€œThey shouldn’t have to deal with this crap. They should be allowed to be kids.”

      This wasn’t just a photo op for Dylan. “You’re a softy. Who knew?”

      She knew. She’d seen it firsthand and she’d learned something about Dylan today. His compassion for the less fortunate was astounding.

      â€œShh. You don’t want to wreck my image, do you?” He grinned.

      â€œHeavens, not me.”

      His agent and PA called him away, and he excused himself. When he returned, he was frowning. “The little boy Pauly who was to do the shoot with us had a setback. He’s not healthy enough to do the promo spot right now. They’re giving me the option to do it with only Beth or to pick another child, or I can wait for СКАЧАТЬ