When Amanda rang the doorbell, the door opened halfway and a middle-aged woman peeked out. The woman saw Matt standing behind Amanda and pulled the door closer, only her head and shoulders showing now, and said, “May I help you?”

“Hello, Mrs. McIntire? I’m Amanda, from the high school. I called about the book drive?”

The woman smiled. “Oh! Of course. Come right in.” The door opened onto a living room with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the water. The room had enough space for two #6 trailers.

“This is my friend Matt.”

“Nice to meet you both. Can I get you any refreshments, maybe something to drink?”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Amanda said. “Thanks for the offer, but we should probably just pick up the books. We’re kind of on a schedule today.”

“Of course.” The woman turned and walked down a hallway. “Come right this way. The books are in my daughter’s room.”

On the short walk Matt saw dozens of vases and crystal knickknacks, any one of them probably worth enough money for a three-month supply of morphine tablets.

The woman spoke over her shoulder as she glided across the thick rugs in the hallway. “It’s so great that you’re doing this. I’d love to find the time to volunteer myself, but you know how it is. Always a million things to do.” The woman snuck a peek at a mirror in passing and brushed her hair back with one hand.

They reached a bedroom where a girl sat in bed, propped up by a mound of pillows, playing video games on a big-screen TV. “My daughter Samantha stayed home sick from kindergarten today, I’m afraid.” The girl glanced at the visitors and returned to her game. “The boxes are just there. You’ll have to lift them, though—they’re simply too heavy for me.”

“He’s the muscle.” Amanda pointed at Matt and smiled.

“He certainly is,” the woman said.

Matt picked up the boxes, and when he passed by the bed the girl shrieked, “Mom!” Matt flinched, nearly dropping the box. “You can’t give away all of those!”

The woman cleared her throat, smiling an apology at Amanda. Her voice was careful, controlled. “But we’ve discussed this, dear. These books are going to the hospital.”

“But, Mom—”

“Charity work is very important.” The woman’s voice got louder. She gave Amanda a sheepish glance, then cleared her throat once more and began again, calmer now. “Stop behaving this way, please. You still have lots of other books. These are going to the hospital.”

“Not all of them,” the girl said. She got up on her knees and snatched the book on top of the box. “Not this one.” She grabbed the next few books. “And not these, either.”

The woman looked nervously from Matt to Amanda, wringing her hands. Matt was a statue.

Amanda sat on the bed and looked at the book in the girl’s hands. “A Fish out of Water. Boy, I used to love that book when I was really young.”

“Me too,” the girl said, pulling the book close to her chest.

“My mom used to read it to me every night. My favorite part is when Otto grows bigger and bigger and bigger and pretty soon he doesn’t even fit into the swimming pool.”

“Did you like that part because you’re so big?”

Mrs. McIntire’s eyes went wide and she sucked in her breath, but Amanda just shrugged. “Probably. I was pretty big even when I was little.” She laughed. “Okay, that came out wrong, but you know what I mean.”

“How did you get so big?”

Mrs. McIntire marched to the bed. “Samantha! Don’t you—”

But Amanda waved her off. “I’ll tell you how I got so big.” She leaned into the girl, looking left and right to check for imaginary eavesdroppers. “But you can’t tell another living soul, okay?” Samantha’s eyes went round, and she nodded. Amanda leaned closer still and stage-whispered, “I loooove cupcakes.”

The girl squealed with laughter. “I love cupcakes, too!” Amanda mimed eating a huge cupcake, and Samantha joined her.

Amanda sat up, wiped imaginary crumbs from her shirt and held her hand out for the book. “May I?” Samantha handed it over, and Amanda flipped through the pages. “Yep. I think this was the hardest one for me to give up, too.”

“What do you mean?”

“I still had all the books from when I was a kid. I never thought I could let go of them, but when I started asking other people to donate books for kids in the hospital, I figured I should probably do the same. But I totally understand if you’re not ready yet. You probably still read this one all the time.”

Matt shifted his grip on the boxes. They were getting pretty heavy.

The girl looked at the book. “So…what happens to the books?”

“Sometimes kids get so sick that they have to stay in the hospital overnight, for an operation or something. These books will be in the overnight rooms for them, maybe make them feel a little bit less scared.” The girl chewed on her lip. “You know what made it easier for me to let go of them?”

“What?”

“I realized that if I gave the books away, I would still have my great memories from them. Nothing could take those away. Because the love isn’t in those pages, it’s in me. Does that sound weird?”

Samantha shook her head.

“I know I’ll miss them, but I think about how happy some other little girl will be, and that makes it easier.” Amanda handed the book over and stood. “But I totally understand if it’s too soon to give these up. Do you want to go through the boxes and see how many you want to keep? Or should we just leave all of them?”

Samantha thought for a moment. “It’s okay. You can take them all.”

“Are you sure?” Amanda said. “I meant it when I said I understand if it’s too soon.”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t really read those much anymore. The little kids at the hospital can have them.”

“Great,” Amanda said. “Thanks a lot, Samantha. You’re awesome.” Samantha beamed back at her.

—

Mrs. McIntire ushered them to the front door. “I’m so sorry for her behavior,” she said. “Sometimes I just don’t know what to do with her.”

“It’s fine,” Amanda said. “I really like kids. Thanks so much for helping us out with the book drive.”

Matt followed her out the door.