Page 18 of Hidden Nature

The dog immediately plopped down in front of it.

“Now, big question and no wrong answer.” He rose, a fluid motion, an athletic one. “Thanksgiving’s Thursday. If you don’t feel up to having a houseful of relatives, say so. Everybody understands.”

“No, no, it’ll be good to see everyone. Honestly. I need some normal, and a houseful at Thanksgiving’s normal.”

She turned to them, and thought as she always did: Unit. They were as connected as any two people she knew.

And she was a blend of them—as Drea was. She had her mother’s coloring, and Drea their father’s. She had his eyes, and Drea her mother’s.

They’d made her, and not only stood together but stood by her.

“You want to fuss, and I get it. All of this, all of it, had to be scarier for you than it was for me. I was too doped up to be scared. And it’s good to be home. Really good. But if I’m going to get back to feeling like me, I need to do things that feel like me.”

“A houseful it is.” Elsie stepped over, wrapped Sloan in a hug. “Not scared. Terrified. But that’s behind us now. So I’m going to fix you something to eat.”

“Don’t the two of you work for a living?”

“Drea’s up in her place right now doing just that. Jonah’s got things covered otherwise. Tomorrow we’re back to it.” Dean patted her shoulder. “We’re taking today.”

Elsie tempted her with homemade soup, fresh bread, and Sloan did the best she could. The appetite still wasn’t there.

But the need to move was.

“I’m going to take a walk—a short one,” she promised. “Fresh air. It feels good to be out in it. Feels like me,” she added.

“One favor, for today?” Elsie said. “Would you stay in sight of the house?”

“Like you used to say when I was eight?” But Sloan laughed with it. “That’s a deal. The soup was amazing, Mom. Like always.”

“Mop’s going to want to go with you,” Drew warned her.

“Mop’s always welcome.”

And the minute she put on her coat, the dog got up, stretched, and wagged.

Since she wanted the lake, she went out the front. The dog immediately raced ahead, bulling his body through the snow like a canine plow.

The air bit, but felt good, so good, breezing over her face. She scented the lake, the pines, the snow, and all that said home, too. She’d do thisevery day, she promised herself, as many times a day as she could manage. Down to the lake, or out the back and into the snowy woods when her mother wasn’t so worried about her.

And in two weeks, at her follow-up, she’d get the all clear from Dr. Vincenti. And by Christmas, she swore an oath, she’d be back all the way.

She walked down to the dock, where there would be a sailing sloop through the season. This summer, she thought, she’d take a real vacation, come home for it. Spend hours sailing, hiking, kayaking, and appreciating what she had.

Maybe it had taken dying for a few minutes to make her realize she’d let too much of that go. Time for another vow, she decided. She wouldn’t fall into that trap again. Work satisfied. God knew she loved her work, but for the last few years, she’d let the balance tip.

As she walked the path around the lake, the dog trotted ahead, trotted back, ahead. And reminded her she walked like an invalid.

“Sorry, Mop, not at full capacity.”

In fact, she had to admit she hadn’t covered an eighth of a mile, and was flagging.

She felt weak, breathless, and not a little pissed off.

Her ears still worked just fine, so she turned when she heard footsteps. And waited, giving her heart a chance to slow as Drea approached.

“I’m not going to bitch.”

“Damn. I was counting on it. Then I’d point out that a week ago, you could barely walk two minutes down a hospital corridor.”

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