“No one mentioned that to me.” Julia appeared miffed.

“Nor to me. Imagine my surprise,” Linnea said wryly.

“He’s got that coronavirus too?” asked her father.

Linnea shook her head. “I don’t think so. He didn’t have any symptoms, like David.”

“What’s he doing back here?” Palmer asked, his displeasure clear in his voice.

“He’d come to see his mother for a visit when he learned a colleague had it, so he quarantined himself, just in case. Especially with his mother and Flo there. And he didn’t want to fly as a potential carrier. I thought that was very responsible of him.”

His father frowned at the compliment. “When’s he going back?”

“I have no idea,” Linnea replied honestly. “We barely talk.”

Julia thought this over. “With David sick, how long will you be taking care of Hope?”

Linnea puffed out air. “I don’t know. As long as it takes. But I’ll say this—thank heavens for John. He and Hope have been playing this game of leaving notes and gifts for each other. Hope has to go out and hunt for them every morning. She can’t see him, but he’s very much a presence. I swear, it’s like having Boo Radley living next door.”

Julia shook her head with amusement. “What would Cara have done if you were working?”

“Called you, I suppose.” She raised her brows. “By the way, I would really appreciate some relief time. I’m on twenty-four/seven and I don’t mind admitting, I’m not up to the task. This motherhood thing is exhausting.”

Julia laughed lightly, looking a bit too much like the Cheshire Cat for Linnea’s liking. “Tell me about it,” she replied airily. Then, more seriously, “I’m sorry, honey, but I’m the working girl now. My phone is ringing off the hook. Women are suddenly finding themselves stuck at home with time on their hands. Everyone wants to redecorate.”

“But I need you.” Her voice sounded disturbingly like Hope’s at the moment.

“You’re the one who encouraged me to hang out my shingle,” Julia reminded her. “I’m a viable businesswoman now, and like it or not, I’m no longer free.”

Linnea sighed loudly for effect, then turned in desperation to look at her father.

“Don’t look at me,” Palmer said, backstepping.

“Well, thanks a lot, you two.” She looked over her shoulder at Hope, who, naturally, was standing ankle-deep in the mud. Linnea squelched a groan. Where she was going to find the strength?

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, an answer to her prayer arrived. Or so Linnea thought.

“Hello! Anybody home?”

At the sound of her mother’s voice, Hope sprang to her feet and hurried to the back porch door, calling out, “Mama!” Linnea, in the kitchen cleaning up the breakfast dishes, had the bright thought that Cara was here to announce all was well on Ocean Boulevard. She grabbed a towel and swiftly walked to the porch, drying her hands, smiling widely.

Her smile fell when she arrived to see Cara holding the sliding door firmly closed to just a few inches so that Hope wouldn’t escape. Hope was jumping up and down in excitement at seeing her mother. Or rather at… Linnea looked closer. Were her eyes deceiving her? There on the patio, in a pink crate beside Cara’s legs, was a puppy.