The family tested new barstools in the finished kitchen; Grandma approved, and everyone celebrated. Lisa, confused by the cheering, was told the remodel was done. Samantha hugged Lisa, noting that the familiar layout seemed to keep Lisa oriented despite the updates. With the barstools installed, they could eat at the counter again.

Jeneva fetched juice when Lisa said she was thirsty, and Samantha reflected on how reducing Lisa’s sedation had made Lisa more talkative and alert. The family had learned to preempt agitation, preventing further blowups. Samantha acknowledged that Lisa’s care needs changed constantly per doctors’ warnings, but on this day Lisa felt like the best version of herself.

As they settled into the improved space, Samantha and Jeneva expressed relief that the remodel was finished after weeks of eating outside. The timing mattered because Lisa’s birthday was the next day, and Xavier was due to arrive on a morning red-eye; Samantha had not seen him since her Minnesota work trip a month earlier.

Samantha then described how the long-distance relationship reshaped her routine: she waited for Xavier’s calls and texts, postponed movies and outings to share them when he visited, and skipped dinners with friends to preserve their narrow evening window to talk.

She explained that Xavier worked weekends at the emergency vet clinic, on top of his regular job, to pay for travel to see her. Their weekday calls were limited by his need to sleep early for work and her own work schedule; weekends offered almost no time because of his overnight ER shifts. The circumstance deepened her longing and frustration at the separation.

Despite the constraints, Samantha emphasized how much she loved their conversations and Xavier’s attentiveness. Xavier frequently sent thoughtful gifts—flowers, a pet tag for Pooter, shelf-stable creamers, cookies, a cat paw wind chime, and playlists—small tokens that made her feel continually in his thoughts, even as she wished most for his presence.