Charlene wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. “I’m never hungry.” And then she jerks as though she’s forgotten something. “How’s Sky? Isn’t today the day she gets her results?”

“Not until late this afternoon. Her time. Probably during the party.”

She inhales. “I hope this one’s okay.”

“Neither one of us could sleep. She called me at four A.M. her time.”

“I’ve been praying for her. For you, too.”

“We could use some good news. Both of us. All of us,” I added as an afterthought.

“What’s she doing today?”

“Working. Carrying her cell phone with her constantly and jumping every time it rings. Trying to get her mind off the test results.”

“She’ll be okay, you know? Sky will.”

“But she doesn’t know that yet. And she’ll be okay in a different way.”

She nods. “There’s lots of ways to be a mother.”

“They haven’t given up on the customary way.” I check my watch. “We should get going.”

When Disney sees me putting my jacket on, he looks at me from under his lids, his head down. “Nope. You can’t come with me. Not this time. Besides, you have a job to do. Keep the dust from falling, Disney,” I tell him, and he wags his tail. “That dog does the best guilt trip ever.”

The snow has stopped and the sun peeks through a curdled sky. I hold my face up to receive its glow. “Gotta savor that sun,” I say more to myself than Charlene.

Charlene’s Honda backs to the powdered street. “Where should we go first?”

“Let’s go around the corner.”

Around the corner is a half-mile away. We drive through trees arching beneath their burden of snow and turn right into the strip mall. “Wanna try the dollar store?”

“Sure,” Charlene says.

We roam the aisles and she considers shiny red bags and then finds canisters that are blue with snowmen dancing among pine trees. There’re only seven boxes and so she picks six that are rimmed with brightly decorated trees.

She wheels her full cart to the cashier while I grab assorted paper plates and napkins.

The cashier picks up the containers decorated with the dancing snowmen. “These are too cute,” she gushes. Her nails are curved and painted with black and gold stripes. They click against the boxes. “I want some for my mom.”

“I got the last ones. But there’re plenty of the trees.”

She picks up one decorated with trees and shrugs. Clicks her nails on the register to open the cash drawer.

The purchases are in her trunk and Charlene says, “Where next?” She checks her watch. “You think we have time enough for Crazy Wisdom?”

“Sure.”