Free The Wedding Planners of Butternut Creek by Jane Myers Perrine

street sign says CHURCH STREET and the number by your front door says TWELVE but all anyone could tell me was to try behind the Christian Church. As if I knew where that was.”
    He heard Yvonne’s footsteps in the hall.
    “You must be Adam’s sister,” Yvonne said. “How good to see you.”
    Adam knew his sister, knew she wanted to answer with a snarky comment like, Why must I be Adam’s sister? She had two ways of communicating: in scientific terms and in snark, the latter to protect herself. This time she didn’t. She must be really sick.
      
    Hannah sorted through the cotton candy her brain had become but couldn’t come up with an answer. Instead, she gave Yvonne a quivery smile and said, “I’m Hannah. Are you Miss Birdie?”
    “Oh, no, no. I’m Yvonne Milton.” When that statement left Hannah confused and blinking, Yvonne added, “Gussie’s mother.”
    “Oh, yes. Gussie’s mother.” Hannah nodded. Who is Gussie?
    Yvonne must have read her expression because she said, “Gussie is Adam’s young woman.” She took Hannah’s hand and patted it comfortingly. “You must be tired after that long trip.”
    Hannah felt her brain click onto “overload” again. Why couldn’t she keep anything straight? Of course she knew who Gussie was, but she’d become so forgetful lately.
    Even harder to understand that she’d allowed Adam to hug her and this woman she’d never met to grasp her hand and pat it. She’d never considered herself a person who liked to have her hand patted, but she did at this moment. Quickly Hannah snatched the patted body part back. Her plans did not include being happy and comfortable, although that soothing moment of compassion hadn’t felt all that terrible.
    “Dear, you look so tired,” Yvonne said. “Why don’t you join us for dinner, then we’ll find you a bed and you can take a nice, long nap.”
    She didn’t really feel like eating but it never worked to turn a meal down because no one ever listened to her when she said she wasn’t hungry. Logically, if a person looked like a walking corpse, nice people assumed she should eat. Made sense, but she’d discovered that sitting down at a meal with others and stuffing food inside reminded her of starving refugees. Not the vision one wanted when gathered around a table of healthy people.
    She followed her brother into the dining area as Yvonne went into the kitchen to get her a plate.
    Adam waved around the table. “This is Henry, Gussie’s father. That’s Janey and here’s Gussie.”
    As Adam held out a chair for her, a tall young man with dark skin thundered into the house. “Hey, Pops, come outside,” he said in a voice that—along with the pounding of his huge feet—made her head hurt even more. “There’s a really great car parked in front of the house.”
    “We’ll look at it later.” Adam motioned the kid to a seat. “Hannah, this is Hector.”
    They all smiled at Hannah. A huge smile covered Gussie’s friendly face, her eyes shone brightly, and her dark curls bounced with vitality. Hannah could see why Adam loved Gussie, but the sight of all that energy absolutely exhausted her.
    She nodded at everyone and attempted to think of something that sounded polite to respond to the welcome but nothing came to mind. “ Enchantée ,” she whispered because she’d spoken French with the international medical personnel and seemed to have left her English-speaking mind in London. Fortunately, before Hannah felt the need to say more in a foreign language, Yvonne came from the kitchen with a bowl and a glass of something.
    “Sweetened or unsweetened?” Gussie’s mother asked.
    What was she talking about?
    “Your tea,” the woman explained. “Sweetened or unsweetened?”
    Hannah had never heard that question. Tea was tea. One added sugar or sweetener if one wanted it sweet. Why would anyone ask that?
    “Unsweetened,” Adam said for her. “Up north, we only have one choice. Tea, unsweetened.”
    “Well,