Why had she offered to help Maggie get things in order? Surely that had been a momentary lapse in mental clarity.

She looked up at the older woman and saw the sadness behind the grin she’d fixed to her face. Maggie didn’t want to die, no matter how brave her face was. And it was important to Louisa to make sure the old woman knew her wishes were going to be carried out.

“I don’t want a sad funeral,” Maggie said as she picked up the stack of magazines and put them back in the box. She took out a Sharpie and wrote eBay on the side of it. Louisa sighed, but she had to admit, she was amused by the whole scene.

Maggie was unlike anyone else she knew, and she always had been. Louisa’s father described the old woman as “feisty,” and it fit her. She was knit into the fabric of Louisa’s life the same way she was knit into the fabric of Nantucket. She’d simply always been there. Before she retired, Maggie was a postal clerk living in a house she’d inherited with almost no expenses. She never had kids, so she poured all her time and effort into other people’s, including Louisa and Cody.

There were many families who loved Maggie, but none quite as much as the Chambers and Boggs families. Louisa had always appreciated the woman’s no-nonsense outlook on life, her honest advice, and her unexpected kindness. While she wouldn’t dwell on it now, Louisa knew she’d miss her terribly when she was gone.

“So, what, we should celebrate?”

“Yes,” Maggie said. “I’ll be with Jesus and you suckers still have to endure winter in Nantucket.” Maggie’s laugh turned into a cackle and then disintegrated into a cough.

A brutal reminder of the road ahead.

The cough worsened, and Louisa stood. “I’ll get you some water.” She stepped over the boxes and made her way to the kitchen, but a knock on the door interrupted her. She pulled it open, then stopped breathing at the sight of Cody, standing on the front stoop wearing workout clothes, his gray T-shirt darkened by his sweat.

Her breath returned and she let out a sharp exhale, the sound of Maggie’s hacking an unwelcome reminder that she couldn’t linger on his masculinity for another second.

“Come in. Sorry. I’ll be right back.” She hurried off to the kitchen, filled a glass with water, then rushed back through, motioning for him to follow her. She handed Maggie the glass, and the old woman paused long enough to drink.

More coughing. Another drink.

“Is she okay?” Cody asked, moving closer, his training obviously telling him he needed to do something.

“She will be,” Louisa said, though the untruth of that statement didn’t escape her. Today she probably would be. Tomorrow—who knew? She seemed to be getting worse.