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briefcase full of student papers that the substitute teacher had collected for her to grade, along with a list of parents who needed to be called because she had missed parent conferences for the first time in her career.
    She tried to be content, knowing that the substitute teacher was fully certified in language arts and was hoping to be hired for the upcoming year if there was an opening, so Ellie’s students had been left in very capable hands. She also tried to resist the sense that she’d let down her colleagues—she’d done her best to handle the overflowing papers in her mailbox and on her desk by relegating them into stacks labeled: To Do, To Distribute and To File.
    The only thing not overflowing when she had returned had been her voice mail. The entire system had been shut down now for three days, much to the amusement of the faculty and staff, who watched the failed attempts to repair the system by the novice technicians the district had employed instead of calling in seasoned professionals.
    Ellie hurried down the empty school corridor to the parking lot and carefully avoided the mini piles of dirt and dust left by the custodians as they swept their way from classroom to classroom. At her car, she stuck her briefcase in the trunk next to a small suitcase packed with comfortable clothes for her mother to wear home from the hospital tomorrow, and then plopped into the driver’s seat. The afternoon was so warm she was tempted to put down the top on her convertible, but since she would only have to put it right back up again at the hospital, she decided against it…for all of two seconds.
    Grinning to herself, she put the top down anyway. After all, what good was having a convertible if you didn’t use it when you could?
    She headed out of the parking lot and turned toward the avenue. At a red light, she kept time with the sound of her blinker by tapping her left foot as her mind raced back over the past few days and ahead to the next few weeks. Starting tomorrow, her routine would change. Drastically.
    With the diagnosis of a mild heart attack confirmed, Ellie’s mother would be released from the hospital in the morning. Tests had also confirmed that she had coronary artery disease, CAD, and given her advanced age, the doctors had agreed against an aggressive course of action, deciding to treat her condition with only medication, a change in diet and a mild exercise program. If all went well, after recuperating for a few weeks, her mother would be living back in her own home again, although none of the doctors would speculate on how much time she might have left.
    In the meantime, Rose Hutchinson was moving in with Ellie, which was a bit like inviting the wolf to move into the chicken coop and expecting the chickens to celebrate.
    Ellie accelerated the instant the light turned green, hung a left and headed south toward the hospital. Before tomorrow morning, she had to turn the small den on the first floor of her stately old Victorian into a bedroom for her mother, put fresh linens in the downstairs bathroom and clean the house. She also had to stock the pantry with appropriate foods for a woman with heart disease, which meant a trip to the grocery store.
    Somehow, she had to find time as well to stop at her mother’s house for more clothing and toiletries. Grading papers and preparing next week’s lesson plans would simply have to wait until the weekend.
    Feeling overwhelmed and definitely in need of a friend who might help her face the challenges ahead, she eased into the visitors’ parking lot at Tilton General, took a ticket from the automated machine and found the last open parking spot at the far end of the lot. Then she turned off the ignition, pulled out the key and bent forward to rest her forehead on the steering wheel.
    Reorganizing her life at home and at work would only mean her days would be temporarily more hectic. Coming face-to-face with the fact that her