olives and . . . bananas.”
“Bananas? What happened to your absolute disgust for the mushy fruit?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. But I was dreaming of making an orange and banana smoothie, and now I really want one.”
“Okay then. How about I make you a strawberry and banana smoothie in the meantime? I think we have some frozen bananas in the freezer.”
Millie prattled on about the market, the new vendor booths, and the people who ran them. Heritage was a small tourist town located on the shores of Lake Huron, and it held a daily market in the town square, open a few hours a day during the spring months and then open for longer hours during the summer.
Years ago, Millie had run a booth of fresh baked goods, like breads, buns, muffins, and tarts, and she still felt a connection to the people there, going daily to say hello and purchase something, anything, to help them out.
“Why didn’t you pick up the box and bring it here?” Claire asked, interrupting her mom’s monologue.
“Box? What box?”
“The one David had in his booth.”
Millie leaned forward and took another cookie from the tray. “Well, I did offer, but he said he misses you.”
Claire nodded. “I know. I need to go see him.”
“Did I ever tell you about when I first found out I was pregnant with you?” Millie asked.
Claire caught her breath at her mother’s words.
Millie stared out to the yard, oblivious to Claire’s reaction. “Most women, when they first get pregnant are sick. It’s usually the first symptom. That and swollen breasts.”
“I don’t remember that.” She kept her voice steady. She wanted to stop her mom, to tell her that she was going to have a baby, but the memory of her first pregnancy was like a knife being thrust into her heart. She didn’t quite remember how she felt—she’d never been sick, that much she recalled, but she had been scared of her body’s changes and was angry at her parents.
“There’s something I need to tell you.” Claire cleared her throat.
Millie didn’t seem to hear her.
“I always heard that morning sickness was a living hell, and I used to pray that I would never be that sick if I ever got pregnant. I watched enough friends rush to the bathroom at the slightest smell, and I never wanted that. I loved food too much.” She patted her stomach as a wry smile flashed across her face.
Claire rolled her eyes. Her mother was tiny yet ate like a horse. There was never a time she wasn’t snacking. Whether it was nuts she kept in her purse or a fresh piece of fruit she grabbed off a counter, she was always nibbling on something.
“Mom—”
“But with you, things were different.” Millie cut her off. “I was the envy of all my friends. Did you know that? From the moment I found out I was pregnant with you to the moment you were born, you were easy. No morning sickness. No false labor pains. No prolonged labor either. A few pushes and you came out into the world—”
“With a wail to announce my arrival that the queen herself could hear.” Claire finished for her. “You’ve told me this before.”
Millie looked at her. “But I don’t think you’ve really heard what I’ve said.”
Confused, Claire rubbed her face. “What am I missing then?”
“I was never sick, but I was tired. Exhausted even. Which was very unusual for me, even then. I had to take time off work, and all I did was sleep. Your poor father had to cook his own meals, and more times than not, my friends would bring over a casserole to save him from his burnt creations. In fact, I only craved one thing. Bananas. It’s probably why you hated them so much. I swear,” Millie said with a giggle, “everything I ate had to have bananas. From eating them raw, to cooking with them . . .” She sighed. “It took me years to eat a banana after you were born.”
Claire smiled.
“Dad never could cook. Even macaroni and cheese was a challenge.” Claire leaned her head back in the chair and