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from anyone. Kind of reminds me of me.”
    With a chuckle that some people would construe as mildly devious, she was out the door, Charlie running after her as though he wanted just one more belly rub. The terrier lowered to his hind legs and tilted his head to one side at the closed door.
    Okay, the dog could be cute sometimes. When he wasn’t being so damn annoying.
    Annabelle turned toward her mother, who was still clutching the jars of peaches in her arms. “Mom, please don’t do cardio in the park with them.”
    Ruth turned toward the kitchen. “Oh, honey, they’re harmless.”
    “More like ridiculous,” Annabelle corrected.
    Ruth shot her daughter a glance over her shoulder. “Honey, I thought you would be happy that I found something to do with myself. You were just telling me the other day that I needed to get in some exercise after I’m healed.”
    “Yes, but not with the Beehive Mafia.” She jutted her index finger toward her mother. “If you come home with a hairstyle like that and polyester pants, I’m disowning you.”
    Ruth clasped Annabelle’s face in her soft hands and placed a kiss on both her cheeks. “I love that you worry about me.”
    Annabelle couldn’t help the smile that crept up her mouth. At times she felt like the worst nag, always telling her mom she needed to do this or more of that. Over the years, she’d become convinced that her mother was ignoring her, that Annabelle was wasting her breath on a woman who wanted to do her own thing.
    “I just want you to be happy, Mom,” Annabelle admitted.
    Ruth’s smile slipped. “You’re starting to sound like your sister.”
    When Naomi had first left the states at the age of twenty-one to finish her college studies in Central America, Ruth had been supportive and even excited for her youngest daughter. But the excitement had faded when Naomi announced her plans to stay abroad.
    One more year had turned into six, during which time Annabelle’s sister had flitted from one Latin country to the next. Her most recent endeavor was Cusco, Peru, where she’d obtained financing to open a hostel.
    It left Annabelle no choice but to be the primary care-giver for their mother.
    Annabelle knew Naomi didn’t intend to be selfish. She just went where she wanted without giving much thought to anything else.
    Not that Annabelle was bitter or anything.
    Really, she wasn’t.
    “I’d like to bring you to my studio one day next week and work on some exercises,” she said, needing to change the subject from her sister. When Ruth only stared, Annabelle pushed. “The doctor said you need to be working with a physical therapist. It’s important that you work on your hip.”
    “I know that, Annabelle.”
    Great. Now her mother was upset, which turned into irritable. And irritable Ruth was about as pleasant as a wild cat.
    “Why don’t you go sit back down and I’ll bring you some dinner when this is done cooking,” she suggested.
    Ruth swiped the back of her hand across her eyes. “Charlie needs his dinner first.”
    The glittering moisture that had been wiped away from Ruth’s eyes gave Annabelle a moment’s pause. Her mother had never been a crier, or showed any kind of emotion for that matter. That sort of thing was awkward for a woman who had an easier time telling her kids how to use proper table manners than she did saying “I love you.”
    Nevertheless, Annabelle approached her mom just as she opened the refrigerator door to where the dog’s chicken and rice was stored in a container. She placed her hands on her mother’s bony shoulders and turned her around. “I’ll get Charlie’s dinner. You go sit down.”
    Ruth nodded but looked everywhere but at Annabelle.
    “Mom,” she said in a gentle voice. “Naomi doesn’t stay away because she doesn’t care about you. She doesn’t realize.” Annabelle looked into her mother’s rheumy green eyes. “She’s always been like that. It’s not because she doesn’t love us.”
    Ruth