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  She knelt by her side. Gently, she laid her hand on Diana’s arm and spoke softly. “Nora’s fine. One of the inevitable facts of this disease is that it completely zaps her. She can handle short bursts of energy and focus, but she requires a lot of down time. It’s not at all unusual for someone in her condition to drop off to sleep without warning. I know how alarming and unnerving…”

  Diana shook her head. “It wasn’t that.” She rose, placed the picture on the chair, and grabbed the tissue box from the end table next to the couch.

  Brooke caught a glimpse of a younger Diana in a graduation gown. She was being hooded. Brooke wondered why she didn’t look happier; it should’ve been one of the proudest days of her life.

  “Getting my doctorate from Columbia.” Diana wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, by the way. I’ve been more emotional these past two days than I think I’ve ever been in my life.”

  Brooke stood and faced her. “You have nothing to apologize for. I can’t imagine how head-spinning all of this must be for you. I think you’re doing great.”

  “It sure doesn’t feel that way. I’m trying to process all of it, but so many things don’t add up.”

  Emotions swirled in Diana’s eyes, and they shifted from blue to green depending on the light. Belatedly she realized Diana was waiting for her to say something. “Maybe we could talk through it. I often find that when I say it out loud, things click into place.”

  Diana shrugged noncommittally.

  “Are we still on for dinner? If you feel like it, we could talk about it then.”

  “Sure.”

  Brooke glanced at the grandfather clock. It was nearly five. “Nora’s likely to sleep for a while yet. I can stay and fix her an early dinner and then get her settled for the night. That should give you plenty of time to unwind and change into something more comfortable.” Even as the words came out of her mouth, she tried to reel them back in. She blushed crimson. “I didn’t—”

  Diana burst out laughing. “Oh, my God. You should see the look on your face.”

  “My word choice is usually more judicious and less unintentionally suggestive than that.”

  “I wouldn’t have noticed except that you called attention to it.”

  “I should’ve quit while I was ahead.”

  “Too late for that now.”

  “Apparently.” She regarded Diana quizzically. She certainly didn’t seem disconcerted by the turn the conversation had taken. Was she gay? Brooke guessed it was possible, but she’d learned long ago about making assumptions, and it didn’t seem appropriate to ask.

  “Okay,” Diana was saying. “Would jeans be appropriate for this restaurant?”

  “You’d be overdressed.”

  “My kind of place. I’ll see you there at seven? Do you think Aunt Nora will be sufficiently settled by then?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Right. I guess I’ll just get going.” Diana picked up the picture and looked at it wistfully one more time. She tucked it in the end-table drawer face down.

  Brooke had so many questions, but Diana turned and strode toward the door. She turned back only long enough to wave. “See you in a bit.”

  “Right.” She heard the car pull out of the drive. She took one step toward the end-table drawer and hesitated. Diana had a right to her privacy. If she wanted to open up and confide in Brooke, that was fine, but it was hers to do.

  She changed direction and headed down the hallway toward the guest bedroom. There was no telling exactly how long Nora and Diana would need her, but she might as well use her time wisely and get familiar with her new temporary digs.

  Diana turned sideways and regarded herself in the mirror. These weren’t her favorite pair of jeans, but they’d have to do. Was the shirt too tight? Maybe she should go with the black one instead. She yanked the shirt in question off the hangar and held it up against her.

  What was wrong with her, anyway? When was the last time she’d been this insecure about her appearance? Besides, this was a business dinner—a discussion about the parameters of Brooke’s assignment—not a date.

  She ripped off the green blouse and pulled on the black. No more second-guesses. She fluffed her hair one last time, snagged her wallet off the table, and headed out. It was a glorious night for a stroll and she was early enough that she didn’t need to rush. That left her mind free to turn over the new information.

  Aunt Nora had seen her receive her doctorate. She’d been there. Not only that, she’d preserved the memory in a picture frame. Did that picture normally sit out where she could see it? Had she put it away because Diana was coming?

  “Hey. Watch where you’re going!”

  “Sorry.” Diana steadied the young woman she’d plowed into. The woman went on her way without acknowledging the apology.

  Diana tucked away her ruminations for the moment and checked her surroundings. “Oh, for God’s sake.” She turned around and retraced her steps. She’d overshot the restaurant by two blocks.

  She arrived at the hostess station seconds ahead of a raucous group of eight young lesbians. They were loudly discussing the merits of various gender-neutral pronouns, a sliding scale of gender identity, and their own preferences.

  “It’s a brave new world out there, isn’t it?”

  Diana started as Brooke materialized next to her. She looked fabulous in a white linen shirt and worn jeans. The scent of her spicy perfume wafted Diana’s way and she breathed it in. Brooke had asked her a question, hadn’t she? Diana struggled to remember what it was.

  “How many?” The hostess saved Diana the embarrassment of asking Brooke to repeat herself.

  “Two. Something by the water if you have it,” Brooke said.

  “Right this way.”

  When they were seated, Diana placed the napkin in her lap. “I could get used to views like this. It’s so picturesque.”

  “I love the water. It’s therapeutic—revitalizes the spirit. That’s one of the major reasons I chose Provincetown for my retreat from the world.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  Brooke regarded her quizzically. “Do you mean the noise and bustle of Boston? No. I prefer quiet and less hectic settings. In the city, everyone seems to be in a hurry to get somewhere else. I’d rather relish the moment.”

  Diana wondered. Had she ever truly enjoyed being fully present? She certainly was enjoying being here right now. The angle of the sun infused Brooke’s eyes with light, shading them to blue, matching the hue of the water below.

  “How about you? I know you work at Columbia. Do you live in Manhattan?”

  “Me? No. Manhattan is too pricey for me. I rent a small condo in the suburbs. It’s an easy train commute and shuttle from there.”

  “Would you prefer to live in the big city if you could?”

  “Not really. I like being close enough to cultural attractions to have them in easy reach, but I’m not a constant noise fan either.”

  The server took their drink orders and hustled off to the next table.

  “What do you usually have here?” Diana asked.

  “Everything is good, but I’m a lobster and mussels fan, so the clambake is my go-to choice.”

  “Works for me.” She pushed the menu away. “Before we get started, I want to thank you for everything you’ve already done for Aunt Nora these past couple of days. You didn’t have to do that, but you stepped up without hesitation anyway.”

  Brooke waved the words away. “As I told you, I love and respect your great-aunt. It’s been my pleasure and privilege to help.” She selected a fresh roll from the basket the server deposited on their table along with their iced teas. “These are heavenly, by the way. Unless you’re gluten free, you really should try one.”

  “I’m not.” Diana picked up a roll, buttered it, and took a bite. The bread melted in her mouth. “Oh my God, that’s good.”

  “Told you.”

  The server took their dinner orders and left them alone once again
.

  “In terms of Aunt Nora’s care,” Diana began, “I’ve done some research, and it seems to me that, depending on your location, in-home private duty nursing care costs in the neighborhood of fifty to seventy-five dollars per hour.”

  Brooke fidgeted with the salt and pepper shakers. “I’m not going to hold you to market-value figures for Nora Lindstrom’s care.”

  “Oh, yes you are.”

  “Oh no, I’m not.” Brooke’s jaw set defiantly.

  Diana put her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I’ve never heard anyone argue to get paid less than what they deserve.”

  Brooke mimicked her posture. “You’ve never met me before.”

  They were practically nose to nose. Diana felt Brooke’s breath caress her face.

  “More iced tea, ladies?” the server interrupted. “Your dinners should be up in just a couple of minutes.”

  She blinked, sat back, and took in an uneven breath. “Yes, please.” What was it about Brooke that so unnerved her?

  “How about if we settle on a weekly flat fee for my services and call it good?” Brooke asked. “I know Nora said she had the funds to cover a full-time in-home nurse, but I seriously doubt she had any idea how much that would cost.”

  “What if that arrangement short changes you?”

  “What if it does?” Again, Brooke played with the salt and pepper shakers.

  Finally, it dawned on her. Brooke was uncomfortable talking about money. “You know, you went to school for this, you trained for it, and you have tons of experience working with oncology patients. Asking for proper compensation on the basis of all that isn’t a crime. You shouldn’t be embarrassed—”

  “Who said I was embarrassed?”

  “I-I’m sorry. I just thought…”

  “Here you go, ladies. Two clambakes.”

  Diana was so grateful for the server’s timing, she thought she could’ve kissed him. How had this conversation gone so far off the rails? Had she misread Brooke’s body language? And what in the world was she going to do to get things back on track? Everything seemed to go smoothly, except when they talked about the business of Brooke caring for Nora.

  “This looks great.” Easy, neutral.

  “It does.” Brooke teased a mussel from its shell and dipped it in melted butter.

  “I don’t want to argue with you about this.” Diana used the nutcracker to break open a lobster claw. “You set the rate. Make it hourly or weekly. I trust you to be fair to Nora, to me, and most of all, I hope, to yourself. We’ll set up a weekly pay schedule and reevaluate if we need to, depending upon the level of care Aunt Nora requires. Fair enough?”

  “Fair enough,” Brooke agreed.

  Diana put down her fork. “I know I asked you and Daniel this yesterday, but we didn’t have time to get into any detail. What should I expect? How will Aunt Nora’s disease progress?”

  “I can wait to explain this to you until after dinner, if you want. This isn’t exactly polite mealtime conversation.”

  “No. I need to know, and I’d rather hear it from you than from the hospice liaison nurse tomorrow.”

  “Let’s finish eating first and I’ll talk you through it afterward.”

  They engaged in small talk for the remainder of the meal and split the check.

  “How about we walk off dinner with a stroll on the pier?” Brooke suggested.

  “Sounds good.” Diana turned right out of the restaurant, and Brooke put a restraining hand on her arm. “What?”

  “The pier is this way.” Brooke pointed to the left.

  “Thank God you’re here or I’d be wandering aimlessly for hours.”

  “I gathered as much.”

  They meandered along, dodging foot traffic, until they reached the relative quiet of the pier.

  “Okay,” Brooke began. “What would you like to know?”

  “I want to be prepared. Since I’m only going to be able to visit with Aunt Nora on the weekends, I want to know what kinds of changes I might see. I don’t want to be shocked or caught off-guard by any kind of dramatic decline.”

  “Nora is already exhibiting some of the most obvious, typical signs of lung cancer—weight loss and loss of appetite. You’ve seen her cough up blood, heard her wheeze and struggle for air, and you know how easily she tires.”

  Diana nodded.

  “All of these symptoms will remain for the duration and likely will become more pronounced and/or more frequent.”

  Diana sighed. “I hate that for her.”

  “It gets worse, and that’s the hard part. I’d give anything to change it for her and for you, but I can’t.”

  “I appreciate that.” She regarded Brooke’s profile in the moonlight. The muscles in her jaw were tense, but otherwise there was a softness about her. She was not fragile, exactly. Diana couldn’t quite quantify it.

  When Brooke offered nothing further, Diana said, “I imagine there’s more. Please, tell me. I need to know.”

  “Normally, I wouldn’t get into this level of detail at this point.”

  She nodded. “I understand. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just know myself—I’m much better off if I know all the likelihoods and possibilities. It’s how I process and prepare.”

  Brooke hesitated. “All right. Other symptoms might follow, although it’s impossible to predict which ones—hoarseness, difficulty swallowing, bone pain, perhaps some confusion—these are real possibilities.”

  “How long before…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “It’s impossible to say. On the one hand, Nora is one hundred years old. On the other, she’s been in good health up until now. According to Daniel, she never smoked a day in her life.”

  “I thought you didn’t have to be a smoker to get lung cancer?”

  “True. Lots of people contract lung cancer without ever having smoked. But with this particular form of lung cancer, the patient almost always is a smoker. Why Nora has small cell lung cancer is a mystery.”

  They reached the end of the pier and turned around for the walk back.

  “Thank you for your candor,” Diana said. Lost in her own thoughts, she suddenly realized Brooke wasn’t with her. She had stopped walking.

  Diana backtracked.

  “I need you to know, I will always be honest about what’s going on with Nora, Diana. It does none of us any good if I do otherwise. But you have to ask. I won’t simply volunteer information. If there’s something you want to know, ask a question. I’ll answer you truthfully every time.”

  She knew she should say something, but for a moment, she was transfixed by the earnestness in Brooke’s features.

  “Did you walk or drive?”

  “What?” The question threw Diana off.

  “Did you walk or did you drive here?”

  “Oh. I walked. Why?”

  “I know I don’t have many data points yet, but it seems to me that you’re somewhat directionally challenged.”

  She blushed. “I can’t imagine what would give you that impression.”

  “Do you need help or an escort to find your way back to where you’re staying?”

  “I’ll manage on my own, thanks.” She shoved her hands in her pockets. She didn’t need Brooke’s assistance to find the B & B, but she wasn’t quite ready for the night to end, either.

  She spoke into the awkward silence. Time to get back on firm ground. “The hospice liaison nurse said she’d be at Aunt Nora’s around nine o’clock. Do you have any idea how long the evaluation will take?”

  “I wouldn’t think it would take more than an hour or so.”

  “Good.” Diana would have to get on the road right after that in order to get home at a reasonable hour and get any work done.

  “I’m going to pick up a few things and head back to Nora’s.”

  “You’re going to stay there tonight?” She hadn’t been expecting that.

  “That’s what you hired me for, isn’t it?” Brooke winked and w
alked away. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Right. See you then.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Years of night shifts and being on call had conditioned Brooke to sleep lightly and hear anything out of the ordinary. By her calculation, Nora couldn’t have gotten more than two consecutive hours of sleep at any point during the night. Although Brooke’s direct intervention was never required, nevertheless, each time she sat up and kicked her legs out of the covers and over the side of the bed, ready to run in an instant if she was needed.

  She hated to wake Nora now, especially because she finally had settled down and was sleeping soundly. But it was almost eight o’clock. The hospice liaison nurse would be here in an hour, and it would take time to get Nora cleaned up and ready.

  “Nora?” She gently shook her shoulder. “Nora? It’s time to get up.”

  Nora mumbled something unintelligible and pulled the covers higher.

  “Dr. Lindstrom? Nora?”

  This time, her eyelids fluttered open. It took her several seconds to focus. “Good morning. Have I slept the day away?”

  “Not yet.” Brooke smiled down at her. “But if you don’t want to get caught in your nightie, we’d better get you showered and ready for company.”

  “That’s right. The hospice person will be here at nine. We’d best make haste.” Nora struggled to sit up and Brooke moved in behind her to help. “Thank you, dear Brooke. Where have you been all my life?”

  “That’s a long story for another day. How about we settle for a shower instead?”

  “I’d rather listen to a story, but I accept the practicality of cleanliness as a necessity of the moment.”

  They used Nora’s shower chair and made short order of the shower. They finished blow-drying her hair just as the doorbell rang.

  “If you’re okay here, I’ll go answer that.”

  “I’m fine, dear. Remember, I’ve been dressing myself since before your mother was born.”

  Brooke found Diana at the front door, holding a bag of something delicious-smelling from the Portuguese Bakery in one hand, and a cardboard tray with three cups of steaming coffee in the other. She thought she’d died and gone to Heaven. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”