The glow spread. I smiled against his back. “I’d love to.”

CHAPTER 27

Jo

Iwas still pregnant in the morning. First I threw up, and then (since I was in the bathroom anyway) I peed on the second stick. Two lines. So after I downed tea and toast and fed the goats, I drove to the rehab center. I had never in my entire life sought my mother’s advice or approval. I had always been Daddy’s girl. But I needed her now.

When I got there, my mother was down the hall in physical therapy. I sat in the room’s one chair to wait for her.

“Honey?”

I jerked awake. My mother was standing—standing!—in front of me, the aide at her side. The hated port was still in Mom’s arm, but she was no longer trailing an IV bag and a pole. I blinked. “You’re up!”

My mother nodded. “Up and walking.”

“Thirty minutes today,” the aide, Keisha, said.

I watched as she helped my mother maneuver to the bed, raising the head so she could sit upright.

“I saw the caseworker yesterday,” my mother said. “I’m being discharged in a week.”

I looked at Keisha. “So soon?”

Keisha tucked the bed control where Mom could reach it. “She’s doing great.”

“I can’t stick around here forever,” my mother said. “There’s too much to do at home.”

So much. I had memories of Momma rubbing VapoRub on my feet for a cough, holding my hair when I puked. But I didn’t know anything about nursing. How was I supposed to take care of her at home?

Some of my panic must have shown in my face, because my mother said, “Don’t fuss. I’ll be fine on my own.”

Keisha adjusted her tray table. “As long as you don’t—”

“Bend, twist, or lift anything heavier than a gallon of milk,” my mother finished for her. They smiled at each other with obvious affection before Mom turned her attention back to me. “Anyway, I’ve got it all figured out. Beth can come home on the weekends, and Meg and Hannah are close by if I need them.”

“But the farm . . .” I objected. She couldn’t afford to hire help for the farm, Meg said.

“Your father knows a veteran who’s willing to help out for food and a place to stay. So you don’t need to worry about me.”

“When did you talk to Dad?”

“I called him after I spoke with the case manager. He’s decided to stay another night in D.C.”

And hadn’t bothered to notify any of us.

“That’s enough about me.” My mother settled back against her pillow. “What are you doing here?”

I could hardly tell her in front of the aide. “I brought you lunch,” I said, gesturing to the knotted shopping bag. “Black-eyed peas and corn bread.”

My mother smiled. “For luck in the New Year.”

“I can put that in the fridge for you, if you want,” Keisha said.

“That would be wonderful,” my mother said.