Lucien gave her a look that was part disbelief and part admonishment. “What were you doing up on a ladder?”
“Hanging flowers,” she said. “I’m fine. I’m sure Dr. Adeno gave you the full report. How are you? How’s Jorge?”
Lucien had recently married his partner in a beautiful seaside service, and Harper Hill Home & Garden had helped with the flowers.
“He’s wonderful, but don’t think you’re going to change the subject that easily,” he said.
Juliet tried not to panic. She couldn’t have a conversation right now with him while Henry, Jake and Caitlin were there.
To her vast relief, Henry seemed to pick up on her distress. He glanced at the teenagers.
“Come on, kids. Let’s let Juliet and her doctor talk. We can grab some dinner then head over to Sea Glass Cottage and pick up some things for Caitlin so she can stay in the guest room.”
Caitlin looked reluctant to leave her grandmother. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”
“I’m fine. I have nurses to take care of me. Don’t worry.”
“I’ll call you later, to make sure you’re still okay.”
“Is there anything we can bring back to you later tonight? Anything from home you might find comforting?” Henry asked her, so much gentleness and kindness in his eyes that she suddenly wanted to cry.
She couldn’t lose his friendship. It was too precious to her, like a rare flower that only bloomed once every hundred years.
He leaned in and kissed her cheek, and she again fought the urge to throw her arms around his neck and let him take care of her.
“Thank you for the peonies. I can’t believe you remembered they’re my favorites.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, his voice gruff. “Don’t fall off anything in the night.”
“I’ll do my best.”
She felt that same complicated mix of gratitude and tenderness as Henry ushered his son and her granddaughter out of the hospital room, leaving her alone with her neurologist.
“So. Talk to me,” Lucien said in his no-nonsense voice. “What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t,” she admitted.
“You shouldn’t have been up on a ladder. You know that, right? I warned you that the new medication we were trying might cause dizziness.”
She shifted on the bed. “Yes. It’s been worth it. I haven’t had any symptoms.”
“It’s too early in the trial to know if that will continue. You know that, right? You have multiple sclerosis, Juliet. You can’t pretend you don’t. Yes, you’re lucky enough that your symptoms have been mild so far, but no one can predict what might happen.”
“I feel strong and healthy, except for the broken bones,” she muttered.
“You know that may not continue forever, though. We can keep the symptoms at bay a long time but possibly not indefinitely.”
She knew. She knew entirely too well. She woke up each morning wondering if today would be the day she would suddenly develop vision problems or her hands would go numb. With each muscle pain or spasm, she worried this was the beginning of a steep decline.
At the end of each day, she said a prayer of gratitude that she’d been able to make it through another day where she could keep up with the demands of her life.
Dr. Hall’s voice gentled. “You need to promise me that next time you’re prescribed a medication that may cause dizziness, you don’t climb up a twenty-foot ladder to hang a flower basket, got it?”
“I promise. It was a mistake. One I’m paying for dearly.”
“Dr. Adeno says she wants to operate tomorrow.”
“That’s the plan.”
“You’ll be in excellent hands. She’s a very good surgeon.”
“Nice to know.”
“If I have your permission to talk with her, I’ll give her a call to discuss co-treatments. Some of the medications you’re on for the MS might impact your healing process.”
“Yes. You can talk to her. Thank you.”
He squeezed her hand. “Good luck tomorrow. I’ll check in while you’re still an inpatient and have my office schedule you for a few months from now so we can check in.”
After he left, the room seemed blessedly empty, but she knew it wouldn’t last. More nurses and technicians would be in to poke at her.
Juliet was exhausted suddenly. She longed to curl up on this bed and forget everything. Her pain, the accident, the burden of her MS diagnosis that she had carried alone every day for the past four years.
The bouquet Henry had brought her stirred the air with its luscious smell, and she closed her eyes, focusing on that scent and trying to picture the showy blossoms with their intricate layers of petals until she fell asleep.
3
OLIVIA
“Only another hour now, Otis. Can you believe we made it this far? We got this, right?”
The little dog in his crate on the back seat snored, which she decided to take as his answer.
She was so tired. It had taken her several hours to make all the arrangements at work, tie up loose business ends and pack up her car. She hadn’t been able to hit the road until about ten the previous night and had been driving for twelve hours, stopping only to catch an hour or so of sleep in the parking lot of a twenty-four-hour grocery store.
She had stopped for gas and to let Otis out a few other times. Other than that, she had been behind the wheel.
The scenery here was lovely as she headed south along the coast toward home. Still, she couldn’t help wondering if she was making a terrible mistake.
Her mother was in an accredited hospital with trained caregivers. What exactly could Olivia provide that they couldn’t?
What could she do in Cape Sanctuary besides get in the way? She wasn’t good at dealing with sick people. The sight of blood made her queasy and she didn’t have a lot of patience for sitting around in a hospital room.
And heaven knew, she was helpless at the garden center. The last time she had tried to help out during a visit home shortly after graduating from college, she had ended up killing an entire table of vegetables by using the wrong fertilizer before one of the other workers stopped her.
“My mom is hurt and she wants me there. I owe her,” she said out loud. “You understand, don’t you, Otis?”
Her dog, awake now, gave his sweet bark, as if he fully agreed with her. That was yet another reason she adored his face. He had become her sounding board, her confessor, her personal secret keeper.