stints that matched the nurses’ shifts. Gia sat from seven A.M. to three P.M. Shelley from three P.M. to eleven P.M. Madison volunteered for nights.
They only saw one another during their shift changes. Darynda came as often as she could, but the experience took a toll on her and the three sisters insisted she take care of herself. They promised to call her if anything happened.
Grammy remained in a coma. The nosocomial infection had originated in her lungs and curing it took heavy-duty antibiotics. One bit of optimistic news was that her brain was healing from the surgery.
Gia would take whatever she could get. Hope was hope.
But along with the hope came a dark radical thought. Was it right to hold on? Should they be prolonging Grammy’s suffering? When was it time to stop fighting and let go?
Not yet, Gia told herself. Not yet. Not until her sisters had fully mended fences. Not until they renovated the inn. Not until they finished the quilt.
The need to finish the quilt ate at her, but until Grammy’s infection was gone, the sisters couldn’t afford to do anything but sit vigil.
When the Chamber of Commerce heard about the latest news, they swooped in to help—neighbors, friends, shopkeepers. The community came together. With Mike acting as general contractor, the town’s residents volunteered their time and resources to repair the inn—painting, patching, plastering.
Each afternoon when Gia came home from the hospital to find another chore completed she felt as if she must be dreaming. To find tile laid and fixtures replaced, and hardwood floors refinished. Where else but a place like Moonglow Cove did people come together to unselfishly give to one of their own?
The Moonglow sisters owed the town so much they could never repay the debt. The price was too precious; the rescue, too intense; the rehabilitation, too intimate.
Without the townsfolk, they simply wouldn’t have made it.
Every day, Gia expected to wake up and realize it had all been a sweet, impossible fantasy. Before she opened her eyes in the morning, she’d take a deep breath and feel the soft corners of her sleep and test reality. Wriggled her toes. Heard the steady cadence of ocean waves. Smelled fresh paint and sawdust. Visceral and true. She lifted her eyelids by millimeters, searching for the first whisper of light, then slowly accepting that it was a new day, a new reality.
The inn was changing around her, while at the same time, nothing at the hospital changed. The contrast between past and future stood out glaring and stark.
Gia controlled none of it. She felt like a princess trapped in her ivory tower, twiddling her thumbs and waiting for the spell to break. Fearing the freedom yet knowing in her heart that’s where salvation lay.
Like the cracking of an egg, you had to fracture the shell to let the goodness out.
On the last day of May, she sat mindlessly playing Candy Crush at Grammy’s bedside, when a soft knock sounded at the door.
Looking up, Gia glanced over her shoulder to see Mike and Anna standing in the doorway. The nursing staff had long given up holding the Clark family and friends to the visiting hours and the no-more-than-two-visitors-at-a-time rule. As long as they were quiet, respectful, and stayed out of the way, the staff allowed them unrestricted access to their grandmother.
“Morning, Short Stack,” Mike murmured.
“How is she today?” Anna nodded at Grammy.
“The same.” Gia turned off her cell phone and slipped it into her purse.
Mike inclined his head at Anna, who stepped forward and rested a hand on Gia’s shoulder.
“I’ve come to sit with your grandmother until Shelley gets here to give you a break,” Anna said.
“That’s okay. I’m good.”
“You and your sisters have been doing this around-the-clock shift for over a week,” Mike said. “You’ve got to take care of yourself. You have no idea how long this will draw out.”
He was right, but leaving her grandmother felt wrong.
“Let us help, we’re family, too,” Mike said.
“Or will be soon,” Anna added.
Gia glanced down at his ring on her finger. The simple, round-cut diamond in a platinum setting. Traditional, but high quality. Just like Mike. She smiled and turned the ring around and around on her finger. Too bad the engagement isn’t real.
Anna’s voice lowered. “Please? I need to do this, Gia. Helen has been so good to me over the years. I want to repay her kindness.”
“That’s so sweet of you, Anna, but you’ve got a bakery to run and two little kids who keep