“As in showering?”
“Yes. And other things I can’t ask John to do.”
“Oh, Emmi.” Cara didn’t know if she could do that. The indignity of wiping someone’s bottom would also wipe away the memories of Flo she wanted to keep. “I don’t know that I want to see her like this. You can’t get her nurse to come back?”
“Not for love or money.”
Cara swallowed hard.
“With John, I think we’ll be okay. For this summer,” Emmi said. “I’ve thought it through. I want to give Flo this final summer.”
“Emmi, we said that last summer.”
“I know,” she said with emphasis. “But we’ve been managing pretty well with her nurse. Making it work.” They walked a few more steps. The sand was firm under their feet along the shoreline.
“And now?” Cara pressed. “Without a nurse? With her deteriorating?”
“Let’s not go there.”
Cara sighed and pumped her fists to pick up the pace. “Emmi, we have to be realistic. The level of care she needs is beyond what either of us is really capable—or even desirous—of doing. We’ve discussed this before. We found the right place. She’s on the waiting list. Perhaps… it’s time. You’ve done more than your share of caring for her. It’s my turn. I’ll cover all the expenses.”
They walked awhile at a faster pace, side by side, each considering the situation.
Then Emmi stopped, her breath coming hard. “Cara,” she began, then put her hand to her chest to take a deep breath. “Listen to me. This is important. I get what you’re saying. If this was any other time, I’d agree with you. But it’s not. We’re in this crazy pandemic. If we put Flo in the memory care facility now, we won’t be able to visit her. They’re under lockdown.” She narrowed her eyes. “Can you imagine Flo in there, alone? Without us? Without her memories. Not knowing where she is. Afraid.”
“No,” Cara said breathlessly.
Emmi shook her head. “We can’t do it to her. Not until the pandemic is over.”
“But, Emmi—”
“This isn’t an impulsive decision. I’ve given it a lot of thought. We’ll give it a shot. If we can’t… if we fail… then okay.”
“But what will you do when John leaves?”
“John said he’d stay to help.” Her face softened. “He’s a wonderful boy. He loves Flo too, don’t forget. We talked about it seriously. I don’t want to interfere with his work. But he was adamant that he can work from here. Honestly, I couldn’t do it without him.”
Cara felt admiration for John bloom in her chest. “He’s a good man. I’ll never be able to thank him enough.”
“He doesn’t want your thanks. But…” She smiled. “What you can do is take over the turtle team. I’m going to be tied down at the house with Flo. The team needs someone they can count on to show up at every nest. To keep the records. Cara, you’ve been a project leader before. You know what has to be done. I don’t have to teach you. And,” she added, elbowing Cara in the ribs, “I know that when I want the job back, you’ll give it to me.”
Cara laughed and bumped shoulders. “I never could say no to you.”
* * *
LINNEA JUGGLED THE two bags of groceries in her arms as she negotiated the front stairs. It felt like the oat milk in the damp paper bag was about ready to break through. Lifting one knee to balance the bag, she tested the door handle and sighed with relief to find it unlocked. After a quick twist of the brass handle, she pushed open the door and hurried to the kitchen, where she unceremoniously plopped the bags on the counter with a heavy sigh. She needed to build up her muscles, she thought as she rolled her shoulders.
She heard music coming from Anna’s bedroom. “Anna! I’m back!” she called out.
There was no answer. She pulled a latte out of a smaller brown bag, followed by a bag of croissants. Sometimes it was the little things that cheered people up. She put a croissant on a plate and carried her treats from the kitchen down the hall to the bedroom, where music blared out in a pulsing, pounding beat. Balancing the coffee on the plate, she knocked on the door.
“Hey, you! I’ve got a surprise for you. It’s from Paname!”
She heard a gasp, then muffled voices. Linnea’s hand lowered and she leaned forward, listening intently. There was definitely someone in there with her. But who? She was tempted to put her ear to the door when she heard a crash, as if something had fallen off the bedside stand. This was followed by a burst of giggling, soprano and baritone. Then came a forced whisper, “Be quiet,” that was filled with more mirth than fear.
Linnea felt the paper coffee cup burn her fingers. She was inclined to push open the door and demand to know what was going on. But of course, she knew exactly what was going on. Linnea took a step back, then shook her head in disbelief. Cursing softly, she opened the coffee lid and, blowing on the steaming brew, took a sip as she made a hasty retreat.
The voice she’d heard was her brother’s.
* * *
LINNEA FINISHED THE croissant, carefully licking her fingertips to rid them of butter and flakes. She needed to keep busy, to quell her racing mind. She began preparing chicken salad from the lovely roasted chicken she’d purchased. The meat was still warm to the touch. As she worked, her mind repeatedly assessed how she felt about Anna sleeping with her brother. It was a lot to take in. What was Cooper doing here, anyway? When had they met? Had they been seeing each other on the sly? Linnea snorted. Why didn’t they have the decency to take their tryst somewhere neutral? So much for Anna being lonely. She certainly didn’t need cheering up!
She took extra care while she chopped the slippery green onions not to cut off her finger. The onions were making her eyes water and she was so agitated, she could barely cut evenly.
“Hey.”
Cooper’s voice. She took a calming breath, then looked over her shoulder. Could it be more obvious? Cooper had combed his dark hair with his fingers, his skin was flushed, and he had his shirt on inside out. She felt her cheeks flame and turned back to her onions.
“Hello.” Chop. Chop. Chop.
“I rode over on my bike. Boy, am I out of shape. I’m winded.”
“Really? You don’t sound winded.” She glanced over her shoulder. “By the way, your shirt is inside out.”
He lifted his arms to take off his shirt. She couldn’t help but notice he was in pretty good shape. He reversed it and put in on correctly this time. “Better?”
She rolled her eyes. He was oblivious.
She finished chopping and tossed the onions into the cut chicken cubes. Then she picked up a towel and began drying her hands. She turned to face Cooper across the room. With his six-foot-two frame, his broad shoulders, his dark hair and eyes, he was handsome in a John Kennedy Jr. kind of way. It was no wonder Anna was attracted to him. Linnea had to face the fact that her kid brother wasn’t a boy anymore. Though he seemed a bit sheepdog-like in manner today. Linnea set the towel on the counter and crossed her arms, curious how he was going to play this.