“A coma!” Maeve blurted out the word, somewhat marveling at the thought. How dramatic and rather glamorous. It was certainly better than losing one's mind.

“We've been worried about you. It's been over two weeks now.”

“My goodness,” Maeve said. She felt a combination of elation, to know she was out of the coma, and weakness, to know she'd been in one at all. Those dreams of Mara made a little more sense now. Perhaps she had gone “into the tunnel.” She'd been walking toward the light, into the love she had felt for her granddaughter. It had kept her going all these years, worried and missing her.

She felt herself shrink into the bedclothes now. “What happened to me? Was I in a car wreck?” She asked the question, but didn't remember anything about a car. No squeal of brakes, no swerving to avoid an animal, nothing.

“No, Mrs. Jameson. You had carbon monoxide poisoning.”

The taste in her mouth, she thought. She tried to lick her lips, but her tongue was too dry. This young doctor was being very thorough; she watched him now, consulting with another doctor, a woman, and two nurses. They were huddled at the end of her bed, talking earnestly, glancing at the door. They sounded excited. Maeve figured it wasn't every day that someone came out of a coma in their hospital.

She cleared her throat.

“Water . . .” she asked.

“Mrs. Jameson,” the other doctor, a woman with curly dark hair and a soft smile, said. “I'm Dr. Mead. I have some good news for you. It's very good news, but I just want to make sure you're ready for it.”

“I'm always ready for good news,” Maeve said, accepting the plastic cup with the straw, sipping thirstily.

“It's about your granddaughter,” Dr. Mead said. Suddenly the doctor's smile grew radiant, and she glanced at the door.

Maeve handed the doctor her glass. Oh, it was better than any water, better than any well or spring or river, better than every drop of rain that had ever fallen upon any garden. It couldn't be true, but it was. It had to be a dream, but it wasn't. Maeve sat up tall and held out her arms.

“Mara!” she gasped.

There were more doctors standing at the door to the room, trying to hold her back, but Mara would have none of it. She had a man and a child at her side, and together they broke through the hospital personnel, and Maeve heard Mara start to sob before she was even halfway across the room.

“Granny!” she cried.

“Oh, my darling!”