Quin sat up from a dead sleep to the sound of distant ambulance sirens. Cold sweat covered her skin. She tossed the covers off the bed and raced down the stairs. At some point, Ryla had moved back to the main floor of the house so she didn’t have to navigate the stairs with her cane, but that thought was a disorienting fog. As Quin hit the kitchen and skidded across the floor, she slammed into Paxton standing by the counter.
He held her elbows and steadied her.
“Where is she? Is she all right?” Her voice shook and she searched the small kitchen, blinking in the harsh overhead light.
Before she could take off for Ryla’s room, Paxton gripped her shoulders, and a small calm stole over her. “She’s fine. I’ve got her set up with a tray in the living room. I’m getting her breakfast.” He indicated the eggs popping and sizzling in the pan.
“Oh.” She felt immediately silly and stupid. “I heard…”
“I know. We all went through that those first few days after her initial widow-maker, which, incidentally, is a horrible name considering women are just as likely to have them as men.”
For some reason, Paxton’s matter-of-fact way of speaking calmed her even more. “So I can go in with her?” She stepped back and let him get back to his eggs. Ryla already thought she took all the attention, she didn’t need to be the cause of burned breakfast, too.
“Sure. There are a few options for you if you want to grab breakfast on your way, or there’s coffee in the pot.” He motioned with his elbow to the small coffee maker on the counter.
Goodness, she’d drink that much all on her own. “I’ll just grab a cup and go sit. I don’t usually eat much in the morning.”
He playfully flicked the end of the spoon at her. “You should eat a healthy breakfast. Says the guy who doesn’t eat anything besides a slice of peanut butter toast before he races over here.” He laughed.
The crinkles beside his eyes calmed the final nervousness coursing through her. “How do you stop jumping at the sound of every ambulance?” She dug through the cupboards until she found the cups. Someone had moved them after the last time she’d been there.
“I realized I would be the one calling them if anything happened. If there were sirens, it wasn’t because of Ryla. Though, I do still cringe at every text, since that’s how Jane gets in touch with me to let me know how the night went.”
Quin fumbled the coffee mug and set it down on the counter with shaky fingers. “I’d forgotten there was someone else in the house last night.” How had she slept with some stranger wandering around?
“She stays in the background for the most part. Ryla likes her evenings quiet, so Jane only really helps with bathing and dressing at bedtime. She’s in Ryla’s room most of the time in a chair. That’s where Ryla wanted her.”
She hadn’t gone near Ryla’s room. Ryla had told her where she slept, but Quin hadn’t wanted to see any medical devices. Just seeing Ryla in her weak state was enough. “Will she still need to be here now that I am?” Not that she wanted the nurse to go.
“Unless you want to be awake all night, yes. We’re following Ryla’s directive at this point. She wants to be kept as comfortable this week as possible, but lucid. The other reason you shouldn’t worry about the ambulance is that she’s at the stage where we don’t really consult a doctor anymore. She’s decided this is it, and she just wants to be comfortable.”
Quin’s chest rebelled and she couldn’t breathe. “You mean to tell me that if she has another attack…we don’t even call for an ambulance?”
“No, I’m not saying that. If she requests it, absolutely. This is all about her and her choice. But if she isn’t coherent enough to tell us…no. That is her decision and because she is an adult of sound mind, you have to be okay with that.”
She put down the coffee carafe before even pouring a drop into her cup. “Is this signed somewhere? I can’t believe a woman her age would just give up control to someone else.” But the fatigue on Ryla’s face the night before made her feel guilty for even fighting.
“This choice was made weeks ago. I’m sorry. She doesn’t have a power of attorney because she didn’t need one at the time. You might be able to argue it, but do you really want to?”
No, she didn’t. She didn’t want to take away the last choice of her sister, but the decision hurt to even think about. “I won’t fight it. But I will be there the moment anything goes wrong and I’ll try to convince her to stay with me.”
He nodded and slid the perfectly done eggs onto a plate. “Need anything else?” he asked as he reached into the fridge for ketchup. Ryla, to Quin’s dismay, had always smothered her eggs in the red, sugary paste.
“No, thank you.” She finally poured her cup of coffee then followed him into the living room.
Ryla waited on the sofa with her feet propped up and strange tight socks on her feet. She still looked tired, but her dark hair was now up in a loose bun making it look thicker than when it was down around her shoulders.
“Good morning.” Quin tried to sound cheerful.
“Morning. I was thinking we could go sit on the beach today. Paxton says the chairs are all cleaned off and in perfect condition. What do you think of my sun hat?” She slowly reached behind her and pulled a giant straw sombrero on her head.
Quin laughed as the hat seemed to gobble most of Ryla’s small head. “I don’t think the sun could find you if it tried.” She set her cup on the side table and curled back up in the chair she’d been in the night before.
Ryla was already dressed for the day in a soft sundress. Near her shoulder, where the v of her neckline started, an angry red scar began. Probably where she’d had her pacemaker put in.
“I guess I slept in. You’re already ready for the day and I haven’t even brushed my hair yet.” She ran her fingers through the dark snarls.
“You’ve got time. This is your vacation. Rest. Enjoy the beach and spending a week with me. I’d love it if you could stay longer.”
Her words gave Quin hope. Maybe she would live longer. Maybe, if Quin were a good person, she could stay until Ryla’s heart gave up. But was she a good person? Could she do that as her sister’s last wish?
“I’ll stay as long as I can.” She still had a life that she was required to live. No one else could do her job. Art didn’t create itself. Though she was feeling as far from inspired as possible just then. “Relaxing by the beach sounds lovely if that’s what you want to do. Do you want Paxton there too?” She fought to keep her eyes on Ryla so her sister wouldn’t see how much she wanted Paxton there. If she looked at him, she’d give herself away.
“I think he’s close enough across the street. You’re there and can get him if anything goes wrong.”
Nothing will go wrong. Nothing will go wrong. She sipped her coffee and chanted to herself, almost a prayer on her lips. “Sure. Do you have any books to read, like you used to?”
Ryla had loved the beach, just sitting there listening to the waves and occasionally reading out loud to anyone who would listen. She had a beautiful reading voice. Her inflections and accents made even the most boring book interesting.
“I don’t read out loud anymore. I don’t have enough voice left.”
This dreaded heart condition had taken everything away. All the peace, all the enjoyment, everything about her sister that she’d loved and remembered. She hated it more and more by the moment. “Do you want me to bring one? I wouldn’t be as good as you, but I could try.”
Ryla shook her head. “I’d like to keep that memory, please. I think we have enough catching up to do that we won’t need the distraction. Paxton, can you keep Duggy busy while we’re gone?”
Paxton came in the room as if he hadn’t been more than a step away and leaned against the wall like he’d done at the airport. “Duggy is currently entertained with a graham cracker. You’ve got about a minute before it’s devoured.”
“Oh, that’s not nearly enough time,” Ryla said then giggled.
“I’m sure I can manage. Little guy has grown on me.” His eyes twinkled.
Would she ever grow to like that rabbit? Maybe once she’d had a chance to see Ryla with him, then she’d know what to do. Their interactions had been something she’d always ignored in the past. The bunny was Ryla’s pet, not hers.
Ryla finished her eggs and slowly wiped her mouth. “I would take your help getting across the street. My tank is still too heavy for me to carry with my cane.”
Tank? Oxygen. It had to be. “I can carry it,” Quin offered. If Ryla could almost manage it with her cane, surely it wouldn’t be too heavy for her. Though she was no Miss Muscles.
“If you’re going to be down there for a few hours, you’ll want the big tank on wheels. Your little tank only lasts for an hour and a half.” Paxton glanced at his watch. “The big one gives you a little over three.”
A nurse would think of such things. She certainly wouldn’t have. Sunscreen, hat, blanket, water, that’s what she’d have remembered. “How big is this tank?”
Paxton left and came back a moment later pulling a small cart with an oxygen tank, much larger than one for scuba divers, about three feet tall. “It’s not heavy. Ryla can pull it but I’d rather she focus on traffic than her tank.” He handed the handle to Quin.
“You’re such a worrier,” Ryla scolded from under her sombrero.
“That’s what they pay me for,” he joked right back. “Take care. I’ll check on you and bring out your other tank if you’re not back in by noon.”
Quin glanced down at her PJs and laughed. “I need a couple minutes before we can go. I’m still not even dressed.”
Ryla frowned as she craned her head back to get a good look at Quin. “Paxton will fix a snack and get me settled across the street. Come join me there as soon as you’re done. Don’t make me wait too long.”
The sentence hung in the air like a threat. She’d already made Ryla wait too long. Quin rushed off to her bedroom and tossed on some clothes then threw her hair up in a messy, uncombed bun. If Ryla wanted quick, she’d get it.
Paxton came back in just as Quin rushed downstairs. He gave her an appreciative glance. “Thanks for hurrying. She’ll feel like you’re listening.” He handed her an apple. “You need to eat. Your body will need more calories to process all this. Trust me.”
She stared at the perfect red apple and felt a bit like Snow White. Why did everything seem like a trap now? “Thanks. I’ll do that.”
“She has a lot to say. Be patient with her and let her say her piece.”
Quin shook her head slowly, then with more force. “If I do that, she’ll have no reason to stay. I need her to hold on until I can convince her to let me tell Mom and Dad. This just isn’t fair.”
He rested his hand on her shoulder just as he’d done to Ryla the night before and she understood the calming power of that touch. “Sometimes, life just isn’t. But you’ve got to keep right on living.”