Louisa glanced down and noticed that so far, all the older woman had done was move the magazines from the box to a stack on the floor.
“Is that your giveaway pile?”
Maggie held up a magazine with a cowboy on the cover. “I can’t give these away.”
Louisa only stared.
“These could be worth something, Lou.”
“To who?”
“To a collector. Let’s list them on eBay.”
Louisa groaned. She didn’t have time to list this stuff on eBay, but how did she tell Maggie her house was full of junk?
“Maybe I should’ve had you wait till I was dead to go through all this stuff,” Maggie said. “Then you could’ve just tossed it and I’d be none the wiser.”
Louisa had had the same thought as soon as she showed up that morning and saw that everything normally stuffed in the two extra bedrooms of Maggie’s cottage had been carted out into the living and dining rooms.
Why had she offered to help Maggie get things in order? Surely that had been a momentary lapse in mental clarity.
She looked up at the older woman and saw the sadness behind the grin she’d fixed to her face. Maggie didn’t want to die, no matter how brave her face was. And it was important to Louisa to make sure the old woman knew her wishes were going to be carried out.
“I don’t want a sad funeral,” Maggie said as she picked up the stack of magazines and put them back in the box. She took out a Sharpie and wrote eBay on the side of it. Louisa sighed, but she had to admit, she was amused by the whole scene.
Maggie was unlike anyone else she knew, and she always had been. Louisa’s father described the old woman as “feisty,” and it fit her. She was knit into the fabric of Louisa’s life the same way she was knit into the fabric of Nantucket. She’d simply always been there. Before she retired, Maggie was a postal clerk living in a house she’d inherited with almost no expenses. She never had kids, so she poured all her time and effort into other people’s, including Louisa and Cody.
There were many families who loved Maggie, but none quite as much as the Chambers and Boggs families. Louisa had always appreciated the woman’s no-nonsense outlook on life, her honest advice, and her unexpected kindness. While she wouldn’t dwell on it now, Louisa knew she’d miss her terribly when she was gone.
“So, what, we should celebrate?”
“Yes,” Maggie 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 it had always been her dream to found an organization to help underprivileged children. Maggie wanted to share Nantucket with everybody she could, and the charity would make that possible. When had she given up on that idea?