A Chance of a Lifetime Read Online Free PDF Page A

reveal the tiniest, scrawniest, wettest creature she’d ever seen, encrusted in ice and shivering violently. As she stared, the kitten lifted its little orange head, opened its little pink mouth, and pitifully meowed.
    “Look, Luce, Norton found you a new baby,” Joe said, as if the thing she wanted most in life was another animal. “Good boy, Norton, good boy.”
    *  *  *
    Calvin dressed early Sunday morning and left his room to find a decent cup of coffee. What he got from the RN at the nursing station was a heavy mug, filled half with hot coffee, half hot milk, and smelling like his mom’s cinnamon cookies. My specialty, the nurse had said with a wink before tucking the Thermos back into a cabinet. Warming his fingers on the hot pottery, he returned to his room, breathing deeply of the aroma, and took a seat in the chair next to the large window. The coffee smelled so good that it seemed a shame to drink it, but once the steam dissipated to occasional wisps, he took a sip. Damn, it was as good as it smelled.
    “Good morning.” A medic let himself into the room, carrying a tray. “Normally, our ambulatory patients eat in the dining hall down on the second floor, but you’re getting a special delivery. You want to move to the warmer side of the room for breakfast? Granted, I’m just guessing that this side is warmer based on the fact that at least there’s no ice formed on the walls over here.”
    Calvin glanced at the window behind him, traces of frost etched on the inside of the glass. When he was a kid, in the few minutes before his mom rousted him from the bed on winter mornings, he’d drawn all kinds of scenes on his windows, using his fingernail to scrape off the frost. “No, thanks. I’ll be okay here.”
    The medic set the tray on the bed table, wheeled it over, and adjusted it to the proper height. He lifted the lid. “Looks like you got the I’d-rather-have-MREs special. Lucky you.” He scanned the tray, then met Calvin’s gaze. “Can you think of anything I forgot besides the flavor?”
    Calvin shook his head.
    “Okay, then, I’ll be back in a while to pick up your tray. Enjoy your breakfast.”
    Calvin took another sip of coffee while inventorying the tray. There were scrambled eggs, their color so pale that they must be egg substitute. The toast could have used another minute or two in the toaster, and the jelly was strawberry instead of his favorite, grape. A piece of gray sausage, probably substitute meat, and half an orange rounded the plate, while circling the plate was a single-serving box of cereal, a carton of low-fat milk, a four-ounce carton of grape juice—he’d rather have orange—and a cup of cold coffee. No sugar, no cream, and the little package of salt was fake.
    If he were a few miles away at his parents’ house, his mom would be fixing sourdough pancakes, eggs over easy, fried potatoes, homemade sausage, biscuits, and thick cream gravy. But she would expect something in exchange for that breakfast: some hint, some reminder of the son who used to be. She would want conversation—deep and painful or lighthearted and fake—and he wasn’t yet up to either.
    Picking up a plastic fork, he poked at the eggs, cutting them into chunks that held their shape. Not sure whether the movement of his mouth was a rueful smile or a grimace, he laid the fork down and picked up the cinnamon coffee again. He knew for sure it was a smile when he tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and savored every drop of it.
    The air pressure changed as the door opened. He’d already learned that there was no such thing as privacy in a hospital, but he kept his eyes shut as footsteps approached, until the bed creaked.
    “Coffee may be the drink of the gods, but it doesn’t count as breakfast.” It was Valentina, the nurse responsible for the cinnamon brew. She leaned against the foot of the bed, hands pushed into the pockets of the jacket that covered her scrub top.
    “I’m not