Hannah shrugged. “I don’t care.”
Amber tossed the gloves into her basket. “Hot chocolate mix, canned chili, ramen noodles. Stuff to keep you warm when you don’t feel like going all the way to the cafeteria.”
Around them, the store bustled. Parents tried to keep kids from touching the toys in the little toy section, and a couple of guys in work clothes seemed to be in a hot discussion of nails and screws and bolts. A white-haired woman carried a box of canning jars toward the checkout counter, struggling a little under the heavy load. Amber took a step toward her, but before she could offer to help, a store employee hurried over and took the box out of the woman’s hands.
Amber led Hannah over to the area that housed yarn and thread and buttons. “Do you ever use that little sewing kit we bought?”
Hannah had followed her, but she didn’t answer. When Amber looked over she saw immediately that her daughter was trying to hold back tears. “What’s wrong, honey?”
Hannah made a squeaky little sound and her face twisted.
“What is it?” Amber put a hand on her daughter’s arm, her own heart hurting in response to Hannah’s emotion.
“I don’t want to go back,” Hannah choked out. “I want to live at home and go to community college.”
“What?” Amber had been so focused on managing her own feelings that she’d had no idea Hannah was ambivalent about going back. “Where is this coming from? You love school!”
“B-b-but I want to come back and live at home.” Hannah was openly crying now.
Amber put down the shopping basket. Warm gloves and hot chocolate mix would have to wait. “Come on, let’s go over to Goody’s and talk.”
Hannah didn’t protest, and Amber led her to the restaurant and directly to a table in the corner. Goody gave them a sour look, probably because they didn’t immediately order food, but Amber made a thumbs-up sign to her. “We’ll order in a minute,” she said, and Goody nodded without smiling.
Goody had been particularly grouchy for the past couple of weeks, which was strange. But for now, Amber couldn’t wonder about it. She needed to figure out what was going on with her daughter.
Amber pulled a couple of tissues from her purse and handed them to Hannah. As Hannah blew her nose, Amber tried to read her body language. Was this a serious issue, or was Hannah just having a clingy moment?
But Hannah’s upset was definitely lasting more than a moment. “Is there something wrong at college that you’re not telling me? Something with your friends, your studies? A boy?”
“It’s not that.” Hannah blew her nose again. “I just miss you. I miss Aunt Erica, and baby Hunter is going to grow up without even knowing me, and I’m afraid...” She broke off.
“What else?” Amber asked, though she had a feeling she knew.
“It’s just that...you’re sick. What if you need me and I’m not here?”
Amber’s heart ached. How she hated it that her daughter had to deal with her mother’s serious illness at such a young age, when she should be focused only on herself, her studies, her friends. “I’m doing really well now. I’m fine.” At times like this, she wished Hannah had a dad. Of course, Hannah did have a father, but Amber hadn’t heard from him in years and had no idea of where he was. Off the grid somewhere if he was even still alive. She’d liked the rebel type, back in the day.
And she wouldn’t change a single aspect of Hannah’s father’s personality, because she wouldn’t change a single aspect of her sensitive, smart, thoughtful daughter.
“I’m worried about you,” Hannah said. “People were talking in church about how skinny you are.”
Amber could have strangled whoever was insensitive enough to speculate about Amber’s health in front of her daughter. “Who was talking about that?”
“Well, Primrose was,” Hannah said. Primrose Miller was the church organist and a major gossip.
“Consider the source. You know I’m doing really well. And I have Erica here to help me if I need anything.”
“But she’s busy taking care of Hunter.” Hannah sniffed. “And he’s growing up without me, and you put off your trip, and I’m afraid you’re going to die!”
Amber’s stomach tensed, but then she processed her daughter’s words, her sudden, extreme emotion. “First of all, I’m not dying. Are you having your period?”
“I can’t believe you said that!” Hannah said indignantly. And then she let out a rueful sigh. “But yeah. I am.”
Amber stifled a smile. “Then why aren’t we eating chocolate? Let me go get us a couple of milkshakes while you blow your nose and wipe your tears.” She handed over the pack of tissues from her purse—did any mom ever stop carrying them?—and left Hannah wiping her eyes and checking her makeup on her phone.
Amber brought two large milkshakes back to the table and they both sat quietly drinking them for a few minutes as befitted their rich, creamy, deeply chocolaty glory.
Reluctantly, Amber pulled herself out of the pleasures of the milkshake to address Hannah’s one legitimate concern. “I did put off my travel, honey,” she said. “I talked with my doctor, and she thought it was safer for me to stay home where I can get the tests I need, when I need them. It’s just a precaution. I wish I didn’t have to be careful, but I do. It’s what’s going to keep me healthy.”
Hannah studied her face. “You’re not hiding something the doctors found?”
“Nope.” Although Amber hadn’t shared every detail, she felt she could say that much honestly.
Hannah sucked down more of her milkshake. “So tell me about Paul,” she said out of left field.
“What about him?” Amber tilted her head to one side, confused. “He lives in the Healing Heroes cottage with his son, Davey.”
“I know that.” Hannah looked at her with narrowed eyes. “I also know he likes you. And I
