Free Carry the Light by Delia Parr Page A

is so high.”
    Rather than provoke an argument by defending women who worked, Ellie pulled the gift basket from the shopping bag and set it on the table. “This is for you from Charlene Butler,” she said, and tugged the lavender bow into place. After sliding the basket across the table to her mother, she put her own shopping bag on the table and sat down. “She sends her get-well wishes, too.”
    Eyes wide, her mother briefly fumbled with the bow before pulling the cellophane free. The moment she lifted out the tan cotton-tailed bunny that stood some twelve inches high, she brought the stuffed animal to her shoulder. “What a soft little sweetie,” she murmured, stroking the fur with her fingers as if trying to calm a fussy baby. “I’m not going to be able to eat anything from Sweet Stuff. Not on my new diet. But this little bunny is just too dear.”
    Ellie removed the rest of the cellophane from her mother’s basket. “Everything in here is quite suitable for your diet. Charlene’s been stocking healthy items, including sugar-free candy, for a while now,” she said, and then went on to share the news she had gotten about Miss Gibbs, as well as Charlene’s temporary move to Welleswood to care for her aunt.
    Her mother let out a sigh and tilted her head toward the bunny. “Poor Dorothy. I’d heard something about her being ill. She was about four years behind me in school, but I’ve known her for a good seventy-five years. What a sad life she’s had.”
    â€œWhat makes you think her life has been sad?” Ellie asked.
    â€œBack in our day, very few women chose to remain spinsters, but that’s what Dorothy did. She never married and never had children. And she had her chances, too.”
    â€œMaybe she never met the right man,” Ellie suggested, defending the elderly woman, since she was not here to defend herself.
    â€œMaybe she was too fussy,” her mother responded.
    Ellie changed the subject to avoid an argument. “I’ll let you sort through the goodies Charlene put into the basket for you while I unpack the other bag,” she said.
    Her mother tugged Ellie’s bag down far enough to peek inside, and rolled her eyes. “Really, Ellie, one of these days you’re going to regret fueling that sweet tooth of yours.”
    â€œIf I haven’t regretted it for sixty years, I think I might be safe,” Ellie said, sliding the bag closer.
    â€œThat’s what I thought when the doctor told me fifteen years ago to stop eating the way I did. Just look where that’s put me.” Her mother glanced around the room, frowning, as if being in Ellie’s home was the worst place she could be.
    Ellie swallowed hard, blinked back tears and left the kitchen to stash away her candy and to tuck this new hurt next to all the old ones before she walked back to Sweet Stuff to get her cell phone.

Chapter Eight
    C harlene rose early again on Sunday to get a head start on the day. She showered quickly, as quietly as she could, and decided blow-drying her hair would be too noisy. Instead, she towel-dried her hair and pulled it back into a traditional ponytail, the way she had worn it since opening her store.
    En route to the kitchen, in what was becoming a daily ritual, she stopped in the living room, picked yesterday’s newspaper up off the floor and refolded it. She stuck it into the old mahogany magazine rack Aunt Dorothy used for her paper recyclables and remembered the days when she used to pick up after her little ones. Then, like now, walkways throughout the house had to be kept clear to minimize the risk of tripping and falling.
    She continued through to the dining room, stopping in front of the small breakfront to retrieve the glass loaf pan that held all her aunt’s medications, with the exception of the insulin that needed to be refrigerated. In the same way she had kept all medications out of her