Our talk does us both good. Ashe makes me laugh through many episodes of Midsomer Murders. He fields phone calls, flower deliveries, and social media. He stays with me until well after dinner, and we’re dozing off. I encourage him to go home and get some rest, and with a lovely kiss, he promises to return early in the morning.

Cora shows up instead, arms full of gifts and in her Sunday best, like she plans to drop in at church after her visit.

I’ve always admired Cora, from her tough business tactics and management style to her mama-bear love and commitment to her family, especially to Ashe, her only child. She is the whole package.

Her heeled booties click against the floor and echo in the small room as she awkwardly unloads her gifts. She places a luscious fern at my bedside, bright green and bursting from its blue mosaic pot.

“You’ve been to see Mr. Frisk,” I chuckle, thinking of our stoic but expert floral department manager.

“He insisted on a plant, something alive rather than cut.”

“He knows I love my green family,” I say, considering where I might find room for it. But it’s a silly thought—I’m moving in with Ashe soon. His condo has a full-sized balcony with an ocean view and plenty of room for plants.

“I also brought magazines.” She angles open a reusable tote from Sunny’s (one of my brilliant ideas) to reveal issues of Vogue and Coastal Living, though I’m more of a People and Woman’s Day girl myself.

“Thanks. How sweet.”

“Blueberry muffins, fresh baked, and your favorite—Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups,” she coos.

“Wow, you’ve outdone yourself. I will gobble this all up. Well, except the fern—Frilly Willie will come home with me in a few days.”

Cora beams. “Oh, Marnie, you are handling everything so well. I love your glowing optimism.”

No choice. “Thanks, Cora.”

She settles into Ashe’s chair, but not before unbuttoning the jacket to her striped, black pantsuit and setting her Louis Vuitton bag at the end of my bed. “Ashe tells us you made great progress yesterday.”

I automatically eye the whiteboard Ivy updated this morning.

More Moving & Grooving (Walking)

Clean Your Plate (eat a full meal)

Bye Bye IV (self-explanatory)

Tame Your Cane (practice using a cane)

Snooze-Fest (get good sleep)

“Yes, everything’s functioning properly and healing well. It’s just a matter of mobility and energy now.”

“Excellent. You’ve never been one to be down for long,” she says. “Women like us can’t let that happen, huh?”

“Right.” Women like us? I almost do a giddy clap and an exuberant woot-woot over her lumping us together into a strong-capable-women sandwich, as equal and important as meat and cheese. But I keep my cool. A light shrug makes my shoulders ache. “Um, where’s Ashe? Sleeping in?”