Is It Any Wonder (Nantucket Love Story #2) - Courtney Walsh Page 0,45

said. “I’ll be with Jesus and you suckers still have to endure winter in Nantucket.” Maggie’s laugh turned into a cackle and then disintegrated into a cough.

A brutal reminder of the road ahead.

The cough worsened, and Louisa stood. “I’ll get you some water.” She stepped over the boxes and made her way to the kitchen, but a knock on the door interrupted her. She pulled it open, then stopped breathing at the sight of Cody, standing on the front stoop wearing workout clothes, his gray T-shirt darkened by his sweat.

Her breath returned and she let out a sharp exhale, the sound of Maggie’s hacking an unwelcome reminder that she couldn’t linger on his masculinity for another second.

“Come in. Sorry. I’ll be right back.” She hurried off to the kitchen, filled a glass with water, then rushed back through, motioning for him to follow her. She handed Maggie the glass, and the old woman paused long enough to drink.

More coughing. Another drink.

“Is she okay?” Cody asked, moving closer, his training obviously telling him he needed to do something.

“She will be,” Louisa said, though the untruth of that statement didn’t escape her. Today she probably would be. Tomorrow—who knew? She seemed to be getting worse.

Finally the cough subsided.

“Okay?” Louisa asked.

Maggie nodded and wiped her cheeks dry, handing Louisa the water glass. “That’s what I get for cracking myself up.”

“Why don’t you get up off the floor?” Louisa set the glass on the table and knelt down beside Maggie, bracing her underneath her arm.

Maggie shifted, and Cody knelt at her other side. Together, he and Louisa helped Maggie up onto the love seat.

“We aren’t done,” Maggie said.

“We can take a break.” Louisa perched on the sofa beside the old woman. “I’m tired of looking through all this junk anyway.”

Maggie cackled again.

The old woman wasn’t sentimental, so in spite of her own sadness, Louisa purposed to stay upbeat. She could cry later. And she knew she would.

Louisa glanced at Cody, who stood awkwardly, staring at them. She’d told him Maggie was dying, but seeing it firsthand was something else altogether. Concern had spread across his face, and Louisa’s stomach ached at the sight of it.

He’d always been so good. So caring. So kind. Never mind that he now treated her like a pariah—at this moment, he reminded her of the boy she’d known all those years ago. The size of her heart doubled just thinking about that boy.

“Cody, can I talk to you in the kitchen for a minute?” Louisa asked.

He nodded, but before they could leave, Maggie grabbed both of their hands. “She’s going to tell you that I’m dying.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Louisa said. She was simply going to give him an out—a way to avoid having to watch any of this.

Cody looked from Maggie to Louisa and back again.

“I’m an old lady,” Maggie said. “This is what happens when you get old.”

“You’re not that old,” Cody said.

“Do you know that for sure?” Maggie winked at him. “I might be 102.”

“Are you?”

“Feels like it today,” she said.

“She might’ve mentioned something already,” Cody said. “What do you mean, though, by ‘dying’?”

Maggie let their hands go and tossed him an incredulous look. “Dying. Dead. Going to walk through the pearly gates. Do I really have to explain this to you?”

Cody sat in the chair next to the love seat, that line of concern still knit across his brow. He glanced at Louisa again, and she sank back down onto the sofa. The pause doubled in length, and Louisa shifted where she sat. Maggie draped a blanket over her lap and sighed.

“You really think they’re going to let you into heaven?” Cody asked dryly.

Maggie and Louisa both glanced at him, and then the old woman let out a loud burst of laughter.

Cody’s smile looked forced, and Louisa imagined his heart had broken a little too, lightening the tone and dealing with Maggie’s reality the way she would want him to. She kind of loved him for that.

“We’re sure this is a done deal?” Cody asked.

“Death?” Maggie said. “Yeah, it’s pretty final.”

“I mean, there’s nothing they can do for you?”

“Nothing I’m willing to do.”

Louisa had had a similar conversation with Maggie when she first learned about her illness.

“It’s no use,” Louisa said. “She won’t be reasoned with.”

Maggie clapped a hand over Cody’s. “If I get to choose, I’m going out on my own terms, though it is a little disappointing since I never did start my charity.”

Ah, the charity. Maggie hadn’t spoken of it in ages, but