“There are worse holics to be,” Delores said.

“That’s not a word, Mother.”

“Well, it should be! Everything’s a holic nowadays. Besides alcoholics, there are workaholics, and sexaholics, and foodaholics, and shopaholics. I saw a commercial the other day that said if you honk the horn in your car too much, you’re a honkaholic. What’s next?”

“Textaholics, phoneaholics, and cyberholics, I guess. I’m not going to start worrying about it until they begin talking about cookieholics.”

“They’ll never do that in Lake Eden, dear. Your cookies are too good.” Delores glanced over at the bowl again. “Haven’t you stirred that cookie dough enough to make a test batch? If you do it now, I could critique them for you.”

Hannah laughed. “Okay. Just let me scoop out enough for a pan and I’ll stick them in the oven.”

“How long do they have to bake?”

“Ten to twelve minutes. And they have to cool for five or you’ll burn your tongue.”

“Not five. Two and a half, dear. When they come out of the oven, just stick them in the walk-in cooler and they’ll take only half as long to cool down enough to eat.”

Hannah laughed. “It would hurt the texture of some cookies, but not these. Good idea, Mother. I didn’t even think of that.”

“It’s because I’m hungry. I came straight here on my lunch hour and I didn’t stop to eat.”

“Necessity is the mother of invention,” Hannah said, quoting her great-grandmother Elsa.

“And invention is the mother of . . .” Delores stopped speaking and began to blush slightly. “I can’t finish that one. I always cringed when your great-grandpa Swensen said it.”

Hannah was puzzled. She couldn’t recall her great-grandfather saying anything about invention. “I don’t remember that one.”

“Of course you don’t. I asked great-grandpa Swensen to stop saying it when you were old enough to understand the words. And he did. He was a good man, Hannah.” Her mother stopped speaking and looked pensive. “I wonder what he’d think if he knew his grandson was dead and he learned that I was getting married again.”

Uh-oh! Guilt rears its ugly head, Hannah thought. Mother’s feeling guilty about marrying again. And then she said the first thing that came into her head. “Great-grandpa Swensen used to have a saying for that, too. I remember him saying it when Shep died.”

“Shep was the German Shepherd they had for years and years. I remember when he died, but I don’t remember what Great-grandpa said. What was it, dear?”

“ ‘Life is for the living. Let’s go out and rescue another dog.’ ”

“That’s . . .” Delores stopped and swallowed hard. “That’s a very good sentiment to remember, dear. I’m very glad you did.”

“Me, too.” Hannah scooped up the last cookie and put it on the cookie sheet. “Okay, Mother. Gird your loins. You’re about to perform another taste test for me.”

Delores gave a little laugh. “It’s a grueling job, but someone has to do it. Hurry up and bake them, dear. I don’t want to get fired as your taste-tester for not performing my duties.”