“You’ll wear that dress,” Susan said firmly. “And we’ll get you more flowers.”
Kathleen nodded. “And we’ll make sure everything is perfect.”
Lynda placed the frame on the table beside her soup bowl. “I know I should probably be thinking about when, not if, we get married. Everyone keeps telling me Matt’s going to recover.”
“But you’re scared,” Isabel finished.
“Terrified.” Lynda stared at the ICU doors. “What if he wakes up and he’s changed? What if the man I love isn’t there anymore?”
Susan understood that fear. Loving someone meant risking everything on their continued presence, their unchanged heart. It meant believing the person you chose would still be there tomorrow, next week, and next year.
It meant trusting that your love was strong enough to weather whatever came.
“Then you’ll love who he becomes,” Susan said simply. “Because that’s what love does. It adapts. It grows. It finds ways to hold on even when everything shifts.”
“Paul told me something similar,” Lynda murmured. “He said love makes you braver than you ever thought possible.”
The four women sat together silently in the waiting room. Words could never make Lynda’s day any brighter, but Susan knew they’d done their best.
She glanced through the window at the snow-covered parking lot. At the Connect Church, Pastor John would be preparing the Christmas Eve service. Volunteers would be stringing fairy lights around the church’s entrance, making it festive and bright. People would be celebrating the holiday season with the family and friends who were dear to them.
And here, in this sterile waiting room, they were celebrating too. It was different from what they’d planned, but just as meaningful.
“Thank you,” Lynda whispered, looking at each of them. “For remembering. For coming. For this.” She touched the frame again.
“Always,” Kathleen promised.
They stayed another hour, telling stories and eating food until the containers were empty. When visiting time ended, they reluctantly gathered their things.
“Call if anything changes,” Susan said, hugging Lynda at the door.
“I will.” Lynda squeezed her tight. “Drive safe.”
In the elevator, Isabel leaned against the wall and sighed. “I hate leaving her.”
“Me too,” Kathleen agreed. “I’ll come back tonight, just to make sure she’s okay.”
Susan nodded. “I’ll stop by tomorrow morning and try and get her to have lunch with Paul and me. The hospital can call her if anything changes with Matt.”
Isabel frowned. “I don’t think she’ll come, unless we all get together for Christmas. Why don’t you and Paul join Frank, Tommy, and me for lunch? What have you and Patrick got planned, Kathleen?”
“We’ve been invited to Noah’s house for the day. Patrick’s looking forward to spending time with his grandsons and their families. But I can join you. Given the circumstances, Patrick won’t mind if I slip away for a couple of hours.”
Isabel grinned. “That’s settled, then. I’ll come with Susan to the hospital in the morning. We’ll collect Lynda from where she’s staying and bring her home.”
“And while we’re gone,” Susan added. “Paul can help Frank and Tommy prepare a Christmas feast.”
With Christmas lunch sorted, Susan felt happier than when they’d arrived. Lynda needed them, and regardless of what else was happening in their lives, they would always be there for her.
As they walked to the parking lot, Susan pulled out her phone and texted Paul: On our way home. Lynda’s doing okay. Matt’s getting stronger.
His response came immediately: I’ll have dinner waiting. I love you.
She smiled and typed back: Love you, too.
Chapter 35
Paul looked around Isabel and Frank’s kitchen, working out what he’d need for Christmas lunch. The space was generous, with cream-colored cabinets and wide countertops that caught morning light. A child’s drawing of a fishing boat was stuck to the refrigerator with magnets, and a pair of reading glasses sat beside a stack of library books on the breakfast nook table.
