held her tongue on that. “All right. I’ll make wreaths, Gia will donate kites, we’ll all work on quilting—”
“The Quilting Divas will help with the quilts,” Darynda said. “So that it’s not just the three of you building inventory. Many of our members have quilts they would donate. I have three at the house that I’ve never used. Presents for friends who passed away before I could gift them.”
“You’d do that for us?” Shelley asked.
“You girls are like family,” Darynda said. “The granddaughters I never had.”
“I could ask Mike if he’d donate some of his furniture.” Gia tapped her chin. “And build us a kiosk for the pop-up.”
“We’ll have to look into getting permission from the city,” Madison mused. “If we get the permits, we could sell right here on the beach. You can hold classes on the beach, too, Shell.”
“Politics are your bailiwick,” Shelley said. “We’ll leave that up to you.”
“It’s a good start,” Gia said. “I feel better.”
“Thank you.” Shelley met Madison’s gaze.
“For what?”
“Letting us have a voice.”
Madison studied her sister. She knew that she tended to rush in and take control, but until this minute she hadn’t realized that Shelley and Gia really wanted a voice. She’d taken control because no one else stepped forward.
Or she’d never let them before.
“We have a mission,” Madison said. “This is good. But for now, it’s my turn to sit vigil at the hospital. Darynda, can you give me a ride?”
“Indeed.” Darynda took her car keys from her pocket.
Madison shooed Pyewacket to the floor, gathered up the bills, and carried them back to the desk where she’d found them, and for the first time since coming home, she felt like she could finally breathe.
* * *
HALF AN HOUR later, Madison was back at Moonglow Cove Memorial, standing in the doorway of Grammy’s room, her hopeful mood eroding.
Nothing had changed. Same beeping machines. Same nurses moving quietly through the intensive care unit.
“You can go on in,” said a voice behind her.
Madison turned to see the large nursing assistant who’d pestered her for an autograph the first day she’d arrived. May June, the woman of the folksy stories. “Oh, hello.”
“Don’t be scared of the machines—”
“I’m not scared.”
“It’s still your grammy underneath the whistles and bells.”
“I know,” Madison said, but her voice rose at the end making it sound like a question instead of a statement.
May June walked into the room, pulled up a chair at Grammy’s bedside. Patted the seat. “Get close. Talk to her. They say that hearing is the last sense to go.”
“Go?” Madison’s throat tightened. “She’s dying?”
May June smiled kindly. “We’re all dying, honey.”
“You don’t think she’ll make it.”
“Only God can answer that question.” May June fingered the gold cross on her necklace. “But either way, talk to her. What’s it gonna hurt?”
Madison nodded, too close to tears to speak.
“Let me just turn her and I’ll get out of your way.”
“Can I help?”
May June looked surprised and pleased as punch. “Sure, that would be nice.”
The nursing assistant showed Madison how to take hold of the folded support sheet underneath Grammy and use it to turn her on her side. “On the count of three . . . one . . . two . . . three.”
Madison lifted her side of the sheet and Grammy smoothly sailed up in bed. It surprised Madison how light she was.
“Now, I’m going to take your side of the sheet and roll her over, while you stuff that pillow against her back. We don’t want her getting pressure sores.”
Once they finished positioning Grammy on her side, May June smiled again and reached over the bed to pat Madison’s shoulder. “It’s gonna be all right.”
Easy for her to say. She had no idea of the chaos at the Moonglow Inn. “Thank you for saying so.”
May June left, and Madison sat down in the chair next to the bed. Grammy looked so lifeless, as if she were already gone.
Stop thinking that way.
She scooted the chair closer to Grammy’s bed, reached for her hand. “Gram? It’s me, Maddie.”
Grammy didn’t move. Not that Madison expected her to.
“I found out about the inn. I wasn’t snooping. The bills were right there by the computer. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to help. I’m so sorry you felt as if you had to handle things on your own.”
She took a deep breath, paused. Peeked over her shoulder to make sure May June hadn’t lingered to eavesdrop. “Why didn’t you tell me the inn was in trouble? Why didn’t you call me