More Than You Know Read Online Free PDF

months.
     
    After her diagnosis, Mia had continued to manage at home with Beryl keeping a closer eye on her, but her forgetfulness had become increasingly worrisome. Isak and Rumer had flown home in the spring, and together they’d visited several facilities, but the one they’d liked best didn’t have a room and it had a long waiting list. Surprisingly, Isak and Rumer had agreed it would be better to wait than confuse Mia by moving her twice. They’d helped Beryl move some of her things back home, and Beryl had felt as if she’d been given a reprieve and been anxious to prove that caring for their mom at home was the best solution.
    But Mia’s health had deteriorated quickly and her care became all-consuming, just as Isak had predicted. It was almost as if her diagnosis had accelerated her decline. Bathing, feeding, and keeping tabs on her kept Beryl busy all the time. She never told her sisters how many times she found Mia walking down the road—talking about going home, but headed in the opposite direction. One time, she was missing for more than an hour before Beryl found her sitting by the pond.
    “Oh, Mum,” Beryl had cried in thankful relief. “I’m so sorry you got lost. You really scared me.”
    “I was going to our cabin at MacDowell,” she said, “but I couldn’t remember the way.”
    “Mum, you haven’t worked at MacDowell in years—and we never owned a cabin.”
    Mia’s eyes had clouded over with confusion.
    On top of everything, Tranquility in a Teapot’s hours had become sporadic at best and business suffered. Everyone in town knew about Mia’s decline and they’d tried to rally around the Grahams, but it had still looked like the little shop might close. Beryl had been beside herself. She’d wanted to hire help, but she hadn’t even had time to interview anyone. She’d tried to open every day, at least for a couple of hours, and on good days, Mia had seemed to enjoy being at the shop; but most of the time, she’d just sat in her armchair, gazing out the window with Thoreau on her lap. Beryl had missed the old days, when they’d cheerfully worked side by side, laughing and helping customers select and sample specialty teas; and she missed pulling down the shade at the end of the day, sitting at one of the café tables, chatting with her mom over a freshly brewed pot of Darjeeling tea, and munching on raisin scones or almond biscotti. Mia had no longer wanted tea; its heat surprised her and made her wince with discomfort.
    So it was a somber day, ten months later, when the nursing home called to say they had a room for Mia, and Beryl, in spite of her deep commitment to care for her mom at home, had felt sadly relieved. The burden had been much more than she’d imagined, and she was physically and emotionally exhausted. On top of that, she’d felt utterly hopeless because nothing seemed to slow the steady progress of the awful disease that was stealing her mom away. She’d called Isak and Rumer to let them know, and they’d each asked, hesitantly, if she thought she could handle the transition alone. Beryl had said she could—after all, it was just a suitcase and some pictures.
    But, as it turned out, it wasn’t just a suitcase and some pictures—it had been the most heart-wrenching thing she’d ever done. Tears had filled her eyes as she promised she’d come every day, and Mia had nodded trustingly, trying to understand. Beryl had clung to her and Mia had held her daughter close, trying to be a comfort. When Beryl left, she’d turned around at the end of the hall, and Mia, looking lost and small, had smiled, trying to be brave and waving uncertainly. Beryl had waved back, tears streaming down her cheeks and feeling as if she had just betrayed the one person she loved most on earth.
     
    There was very little traffic headed into Boston that early May evening and Beryl breezed down 93 onto 90 and zipped off the airport exit without incident. She found a spot in short-term