* * *
“HEY, MOM,” MIA said a couple days later as she bent and kissed her mom’s cheek. Nora was propped up in her hospital bed, her sky-blue eyes twinkling, her short black hair stylishly mussed. Bright pink slippers on feet crossed at the ankles stuck out from the blanket draped across her legs. “You look fantastic.”
“Hi, honey. Thank you, I’m feeling it. Those must be my discharge papers. Doc says I get to blow this Popsicle stand today.”
“Blow this Popsicle stand?” Even though her mom had kept improving, the doctors had opted to keep her for a couple extra days for observation. They were still unsure about the cause of her prolonged unconsciousness.
“Isn’t that right, Ty?” Nora looked over at the bed beside hers. It was occupied by a teenage girl with short, spiked blue hair. A cast stretched from just below her shoulder all the way down her arm and around her hand. The pastel purple cast bore evidence of visitors via an array of scribbled signatures covering its surface.
“That’s it, Mrs. K. You’re way live now. And this Instagram pic of your brain scan is lit. I wonder if I can get a copy of my X-ray?”
“Sure you can, this is America. Freedom of information and all that.” She looked back at Mia. “Ty’s been helping me with my street lingo. We’re homes.”
“Yeah,” she drawled. “I picked up on that. That’ll come in handy with your pinochle group in Pacific Cove. But I’m not sure the Freedom of Information Act really applies to medical records.”
“Are you even kidding me? That’s messed up.”
Mia rolled her eyes. Ty giggled.
A smiling young nurse with deep dimples, a long ponytail and colorful butterflies decorating her top came in pushing a wheelchair. Her name tag read Betsy. She stopped between the two beds and swiveled her head from one patient to the other.
“Hey, Bets,” Nora asked, “wha’s up?”
The nurse gave a breezy wave. “You know—same old, same old.”
“I hear that.”
Nurse Betsy chuckled. “We sure are going to miss you around here, Nora.” To Mia, she said, “It’s rare to get patients as entertaining as your mom. And these two together—” she gestured between the roommates “—could take their act on the road.” She asked Nora, “You ready to get out of here?”
“You know it.”
Betsy helped Nora get settled in the wheelchair while Mia gathered her mom’s belongings. When they were ready, Betsy began pushing her toward the door.
“Don’t forget to give me your John Hancock on the way out.” Ty waved a purple marker. To Mia she said, “That lingo thing is working both ways. I’m going to take some vintage vocab home to my squad.”
Betsy situated the chair so Nora could comply. Ty and Betsy both stared transfixed as her mom worked her magic with an assortment of colors. Mia understood their fascination. She had seen her mom draw a million times, yet she never seemed to get enough.
“Get. Out!” the girl exclaimed as she examined Nora’s handiwork, a blue-haired girl flying through the air on a skateboard. Her arms were outstretched, an apple in one hand and a book in the other. A slice of the skate park stretched out before her.
Nora pointed to the apple and then the book. “Health and knowledge. Notice how this gal keeps her body leaning forward so she doesn’t have an epic wipeout in the bottom of the skate bowl?” Nora winked at her.
“Duly noted.” Ty grinned. “You’ve got mad skills.” She looked at Mia. “Your mom is like a real artist.”
Mia nodded, pride welling inside her. “I know.” She loved seeing her mom using her skills. Since they’d moved to Pacific Cove, she’d been doing so more and more. It filled Nora with joy and Mia knew that her mom could have done extraordinary things with her gift. Her dad, however, had never wanted her to pursue it, believing that art was a “hobby,” not a profession. According to Bill Frasier, if it wasn’t military, it was neither interesting nor worth pursuing. Mia’s love for animals and her choice of veterinary medicine as a career also fell into this category.
Nora squeezed Ty’s hand. “Come by the shop to see me when you get sprung. I’ll be competing in the Sandcastle Expo next month with my squad, the Sand Bandits. I’m serious about teaching you some sculpting if you’re up for it. And you’ve got my Instagram.”
“Sounds perfect. I love you, Mrs. Frasier,” Ty said without a trace of the hip that had been previously lacing her tone.
“Love you, too, kiddo.”
Yes, Mia thought with satisfaction and a bit of wonder as they made their way through the hospital, my mom is back. And we’re both alive.
No more wasting time.
She’d already parked her SUV near the curb in the loading area. Mia wasn’t surprised to see her mom had plenty of strength after her hospital stint. That, and the fact that her mom didn’t weigh much over a hundred pounds, made it an easy job getting her settled in the passenger seat.
“If I never see the inside of that place again it will be too soon.”
“I hear that, girlfriend,” Mia said.
“That’s the spirit,” her mom answered with a laugh. “One quick stop on the way home?”
“Definitely,” Mia said, figuring she was going to ask for a carton of her favorite organic frozen soy cream “treat” or a take-out garden burger.
“Great. You know how to get to the Coast Guard Air Station, right? I’ve got some thanking to do.”
Mia felt a surge of nervous tension at the thought of seeing Officer Johnston again. She hadn’t exactly been in the best state of mind when she’d seen him last, babbling about who-knows-what and gushing with gratitude. Not that he didn’t deserve the gratitude part, but she could have done a better job of maintaining her composure. As much as she appreciated his kindness, and the rest of him for that matter, because they’d had fun and he was pretty cute, she’d kind of been hoping she’d never see him again.
“JAY? HERE YOU ARE.”
Jay glanced over his shoulder to see Aubrey walking through the door. He was sitting in a chair in a storage room off the main hangar at the base trying to decide what to do with the fur-covered bundle in his arms. It had finally quit shivering but didn’t seem inclined to move from his lap.
“We have visitors and—” She’d been talking as she moved but now stopped in midsentence to gasp. “Is that a dog? It’s adorable! Where did it come from?” She continued toward him and the animal cuddled in a fuzzy pink baby blanket on his lap.
“We rescued her early this morning. A sailboat went down trying to cross the bar. Her owner didn’t make it. Can’t locate any family.” As if sensing she was the topic of conversation, the dog lifted her brown-and-white head. Wide brown eyes lit with curiosity as she sniffed Aubrey’s fingers.
Aubrey caressed one of her silky ears. “That is a heartbreaker. And you have her why? Did you call Holly?” Holly ran Paws for a Second Chance, the local no-kill shelter. She was their go-to person in the surprisingly often occurrences when they rescued animals.
“She kind of latched onto me for some reason. Maybe because I took care of her in the helo? I don’t know, but yeah, I called Holly. No answer. Left a message.” He sighed, feeling the weight of both the man’s