“I’m not ’lergic,” Hope said with a quivering lip, and held the dog tighter.

“You’d better put keep the dog away from Hope on your list of house rules,” said Anna.

Linnea shot her a look. “That’s not helpful.”

“But it’s the truth,” Anna said, lifting her hands.

John got up and walked to Hope’s side. “May I see Luna?”

Hope nodded as she rubbed her eyes.

John stooped to gently pick up the puppy and cradled it in his arms. Luna, yet another female besotted with John, began licking his face. She looked so small against his large frame. He moved away from Hope to the perimeter of the room and settled the pup in his arms.

“The way I see it, we established some important ground rules tonight,” John said in an even voice, but his look toward Anna was loaded with meaning. “We all wear masks near Hope. And to that point, wash hands a lot and practice social distancing. Basically, follow the CDC ruling. Lest we forget, the number of cases worldwide passed one million. Anna, you really should stay secluded in your room for the next two weeks. You just moved in, and even if you’ve pretty much stayed home, you don’t know if you’re a carrier and I don’t think you want to put Hope in jeopardy.”

Anna’s eyes widened, but she nodded in agreement. “Yeah, fine. I’ll stick close to my room for the next two weeks.”

“Thank you,” Linnea said, meaning it. “Then we’re agreed. And I will call Cara immediately and let her know about Luna. Until we get your mama’s verdict, honey,” she said, directing this comment to Hope, “I’m afraid you have to stay away from Luna. I think she’s making you sneeze.”

Hope was crestfallen. “I’m sorry!”

“Oh no, honey. It’s not your fault.” Linnea’s heart went out to her. She was still so young. She thought that somehow she’d made the puppy sick. Linnea wrapped her arms around the child, who had begun to cry.

“I hate germs,” Hope wailed.

“We all do, honey,” she said, looking up at John for support. “But we’ll be okay. And so will Luna. You’ll see.”

“On that note,” John said, “I’d say this meeting is adjourned.”

chapter seven

Sometimes a touch, a hug, the feel of an encircling arm—more than words—had the power to restore one’s faith that all would be well.

ACROSS THE STREET on Ocean Boulevard Cara sat alone on the white suede Chesterfield sofa in her living room leafing idly though Charleston magazine. Out the large plate-glass windows, the sky was ominous. Gray clouds hovered over a turbulent gray ocean littered with white-capped waves. It would be dark soon, she thought. The end of another day. A wave of loneliness swept over her. So many days without David and Hope. She wondered again how she had lived so many years alone.

When she’d left Charleston at age eighteen, she’d been hell-bent on heading anywhere north to start her life, as far away from her abusive father as she could get. She’d thought when she left town, it would be for college. She was academic, had excelled at school and extracurricular activities, and rarely dated. She had her dream ahead of her like a carrot in front of a mule. When she’d received her acceptance from Boston University, she was elated. She’d succeeded!