They ended the call, and Clare set the phone down on the table next to her bed. I guess that’s the first of many times I’ll have that conversation.

She went home on a Saturday so the girls could be with her when she left the hospital. Jill came from college in Providence, and Clare’s mother, Anna, was there from Hartford for the big day.

The halls of the rehabilitation center were lined with staffers applauding their star patient as she was taken on one last wheelchair ride to the front door. Embarrassed by the attention, Clare emerged into the late summer humidity, handed her crutches to Kate, and eased herself into the passenger seat of her own beloved burgundy Volvo. She had paid cash for it with the proceeds of the first house she ever sold and had hung on to it despite Jack’s many attempts to get her to upgrade. When she closed her door and looked over, she was startled to see Jill behind the wheel.

Jill laughed. “Yes, Mother, I drive now.”

“I do, too,” Kate said from the backseat where she sat with Maggie and their grandmother.

“Me, too,” Maggie said, and everyone laughed.

“Of course, I knew you guys were driving, but having you drive me is another story,” Clare said. “This’ll take some getting used to, ladies.”

“That’s okay,” Jill said.

“Go slow, Jill, you don’t want me to have a heart attack on my first day out of the hospital.”

Anna reached out to pat her daughter’s shoulder. “Relax, honey, they’re both excellent drivers.”

“Thanks, Gram, I think she needed to hear that,” Jill said with amusement as she pulled away from the hospital. “What do you think, Mom? Shall we take the scenic route?”

“Absolutely.” Clare rolled down the window to let in the breeze. She’d been out of the hospital only once since her recovery in April, to attend Kate’s high school graduation in June.

Jill drove through downtown, along Newport Harbor. Clare was quiet during the ride as she drank in the familiar and noticed all the changes wrought by the passage of time—a new lane added to a roadway, the landscaping in front of a favorite restaurant, once-loved shops long gone and replaced by new ones.

“Can we take a ride?” Clare asked as Jill approached the traffic light at the end of America’s Cup Avenue, where they would have gone up the hill at Memorial Boulevard to go home.

“Sure, where do you want to go?” Jill asked.

“I’d like to see the hotel.” Jack had met Andi while building the hotel, and Clare had been curious about it for months.

“No problem,” Jill said, taking a right onto Lower Thames, which would lead them to Ocean Drive.

“Look at all the people.” Anna marveled at the tourists crowding the quaint city’s sidewalks and cobblestone streets.