Infinity

The hospital room is full of people, moving in and out. Beside my bed are two hospital carts that have been set up as tables, their wheels locked into place, a sheet thrown over them like a tablecloth. Dad and Tom dragged chairs in while Lance and Marc stole the carts, and mum took Tatiana with her to find food, a gentle smile on her face as Tiana chattered at her. She looked startled, for a moment, when Tiana took her hand, but then she relaxed. She looked happy, walking out the door and darting me a small smile.

Olive and Hannah walk into the room, a bottle of sparkling champagne in Olivia's hand, two bottles of soft drink in Hannah's.

Dad looks at the alcohol and then at Olive with a raised brow as he wrestles with a folding chair. When Tom takes it from him with a weary sigh, he surrenders it without any complaint. "I'd ask where you got that-" he starts.

"But you wouldn't be pleased, and someone might get arrested," Olivia finishes.

Dad stands still for a moment, running his hand through his hair, mussing it wildly. He sighs after a moment. "Don't tell Evelyn," he says.

"Thanks, Michael," she says, kissing his cheek as she walks past. He rolls his eyes.

"Don't thank me. Just give me a few drinks before my darling wife gets back."

"Back to your wild days, dad?" I tease. "Drinking and passing out on the ground?"

He looks at me, blushing a little. "I really wish I hadn't told you that story," he says. I smile.

Across the room, I watch Marc take the bottles from Hannah and set them on the cart-table before taking her hands, smiling so widely that his face must hurt from the expression. He pulls her from the room, the door swinging closed behind them.

Tom puts down the last folding chair, and Olivia creeps up behind him, throwing her arms around his neck. She presses a kiss to his jaw, and Tom laughs, leaning forwards so her feet lift from the ground. She squeals, and he sets her down, turning to face her, her arms staying linked around his neck even when he leans down and kisses her, his arms wrapping around her waist as he lifts her to his height.

I look away after a moment, a small smile flickering around the edges of my mouth, because they are happy, and that makes me happy.

Dad coughs. "PDA, children," he says.

"You don't exactly classify as the public. You're more like my second father," Olivia says, smoothing down Tom's hair and stepping back.

"I've lost my authority," dad says woefully.

"It's your own fault. You did give a teenage girl your approval when she brought alcohol into the room," Lance says evenly, sitting on the edge of my bed. I am sitting up, the bed raised, so when he leans back he can swing his legs up beside me, so that we sit in the same position. He takes my hand, and I am a little less aware of the wires and tubes threaded through my body.

"He's right," I say, leaning against his shoulder as he winds his fingers through mine.

"So what was I meant to do?" dad asks. "Say no?"

"Probably," I tell him.

And then the door opens, and Marc comes in, Tatiana on his back, Hannah behind them, helping mum to carry the food. Lance sweeps his thumb in small circles across my hand. And then the room collapses into a blur of food and laughter and dad surreptitiously standing in the corner, eating a bag of lollies and studiously ignoring Olivia as she opens the champagne. Mum looks at her like she's going to tell her off, but then decides not to. Marc looks surprised, and raises his eyebrows at Tom, who shrugs. And then they are pouring a glass for everyone but Tiana, and Tom passes one to me. "Madam," he says.

I smile and take it. "Do you think-" I start, and he stops me.

"We asked the doctors. They said one glass should be fine, though they wouldn't condone teen drinking..." he trails off and backs away, a grin on his face. I hold the glass by the stem and admire the sporadic bubbling, the light white froth that gathers at the top of the glass. I bring my other hand up, carefully, and trace a small, sideways eight in the condensation on the glass.

Lance clinks his glass against mine, gently. "To infinity," he says, his voice rough and quiet.

Dad must hear, because he steps closer, and touches his glass to Lance's and mine. "Infinity," he says. And then everyone is gathering around us, and our glasses are pressing together, and dad is picking up Tiana so she can press her plastic glass of apple juice to ours, and infinity echoes through the room in soft tones. Happiness is solid, in this room, this moment.