"It's good to see you again, honey," Nia said, wrapping Harriet in a tight hug.

Harriet hugged her back, breathing in her warm cinnamon scent. "It's good to see you too, Mom. How've you been?"

"I baked the most delightful batch of cinnamon rolls this morning! If I'd known you'd be with me, I'd have saved you a couple. My bridge group didn't leave a single crumb behind."

"Don't worry about it. We can always make more."

Harriet and Nia muscled their shopping cart through Walmart. Runny-nosed crowds congested the aisles with a cacophony of snotty sniffing.

For once, the crowds were a welcome distraction. The endless barrage of free Christmas cookie samples and cookbooks full of holiday desserts taunted Harriet from around every corner. Having her sweet release so close yet so far sent sweat running down her forehead, and she had to grip the shopping cart so tightly her knuckles turned white to stop the tremors in her hands.

"Bet you've been whipping up all sorts of Christmas goodies," Nia said. "Goodness knows Sam goes crazy for those cookies every year."

"I wish. Frank's kept me out of the kitchen. I can't even make my own breakfast anymore."

"Honey, that's just not right." Nia sighed. "I always knew that man was trouble, but you never listened. Want to head over to my place? I can always use an extra set of hands in the kitchen."

Frank would never trust her again if she didn't come straight home like she'd promised, and she couldn't ditch him altogether without leaving Sam behind. There was no way he'd be able to cope with losing his mom and any hope of ever baking again. "Thanks, but I can't."

"How can you stand it? I would've gone nuts by now."

"I'm trying to figure out a way to make everything work out."

"Not the baking, honey, although that's awful too. I mean everything else." She waved her arm in front of her, indicating countless unseen emotional burdens waiting to break them both.

"I don't know," Harriet said, her voice cracking. "If I don't think of something..."

"Then you're in more trouble than a cat at a dog show," Nia finished the thought for her. "Whatcha got to work with?"

"Not much. Frank cleaned out most of the fridge."

"We'd better get you some supplies, then."

"I'm not supposed to go grocery shopping without him." He didn't even trust her to do that alone now.

"Who says we're going grocery shopping?" Nia said with a wink. She gestured to aisles filled with flashing toys, screaming children, and exhausted parents. "What would Sam like for Christmas?"

"We already bought him plenty of toys."

"Yes, but what would he like if you were to buy him something else? Preferably something with a nice, big box."

A sly grin stretched across Harriet's face as she caught on to her mom's plan. "I hope you're thinking what I'm thinking. But what are we going to do with the toys?"

Nia waved away that concern. "Donate 'em to a charity or something. Who cares? We just need the box."

They scoured the aisles in search of the perfect toy. Most were the wrong kind of box (action figures), too small (mystery eggs with a small plush inside), or not something Sam would ever want in a million years (a dollhouse). Nia started limping as they prowled their fifth aisle. "Your momma doesn't have the stamina she used to," she said apologetically as Harriet slowed down so she could catch up.

"It's okay," Harriet said. "Why don't you go get the supplies? I'll handle the box."

"Meet you by the checkout."

Harriet scanned the shelves frantically. She was so busy looking at the toys that she didn't notice she was getting too close to someone until she heard the telltale pop of someone's foot coming halfway out of their tennis shoe. "Sorry!"

A pair of bewildered blue eyes met hers. "Long time no see," Carol said. She thumped her foot back into place with a firm step. "Thought you'd be home with Sam."

Harriet shook her head and blinked, but Carol was still there. She looked as right as rain aside from a fading bruise on her forehead and a slight wobbliness in her legs Harriet wouldn't have even noticed if Carol didn't have a death grip on her shopping cart to help her stay balanced. Despite everything she'd gone through, she'd taken the time to tame her formerly wild hair into an updo, and there was a fire in her eyes that Harriet hadn't seen in months. Not as bright as it used to be, but still warm enough to coax a smile out of Harriet.

"Nah, I'm helpin' Mom get a little last-minute shopping done."

"Sometimes it feels like we should start getting gifts in February so we can avoid this nonsense," Carol said.

"I'm surprised you haven't finished your shopping already." And even more surprised she wasn't resting at home.

"I did, but I figured it would be nice to get something extra for Peter since this year's been so hard on him. He's in sorry shape right now." She cocked her head, her voice holding more curiosity than anger. "What was that about?"

"Sam's been having a hell of a time lately," Harriet explained. "Baking's been helping us cope, but Frank's been trying to get us to stop."

"Better not mention the b-word around here," Carol whispered. She glanced around warily. "Ryan's over in the next aisle."

Harriet gave her an understanding nod. "Think we could head on over to your place and get some done?"

Carol bit her lip. "I'd love to, but..." She fidgeted, tightening her grip on her cart so much Harriet was afraid she'd give herself bruises. The darkness around her sunken eyes stood out from her pale face as she looked at Harriet with a mixture of pity and longing. "I shouldn't, and neither should you."

"Suit yourself," Harriet said. If she wanted to suffer, so be it. "Glad to see you out and about, by the way. Heard you had a heck of a fall."

"It's been rough, but Ryan and Patricia have been a huge help. I just need to be careful not to overdo myself, especially on therapy days. I know the sessions are supposed to help, but man are they exhausting!"

"I bet. Anything I can do to help?"

"I think I'm alright, but maybe we can hang out sometime and catch up." The caveat hung unspoken between them. Carol would only do that if Harriet stopped baking, and she wasn't planning to do that anytime soon. "What about you? Need anything?"

"Mom and I are trying to get Sam one last present, but we're having a heck of a time finding one."

"Have you given the play sets a look? They've got a couple really neat ones on clearance."

"Good thinking, thanks! I'd better go grab something before the good stuff's gone."

Harriet left Carol behind and pushed her cart into the clearance section. The latest knockoffs and heaps of battered boxes cluttered the picked-over shelves. Sure enough, the perfect play set quickly caught her eye. It was the sort of thing Sam used to beg her for all the time. The plastic jungle, its herd of peaceful sauropods, and the lone, scarred carnotaurus would have made the perfect gift if the past few months had gone differently.

The hastily taped, battered cardboard told her why the set had been put on clearance. Thankfully, she didn't care if any of the parts were missing or broken. She just needed the box.

Harriet tossed a small stuffed triceratops with a missing eye into her cart to go with the play set. Worst off, it would hopefully bring Sam some happiness even if she didn't manage to find a way to get them both back in the kitchen.

After grabbing a roll of tape to reseal the box with later, Harriet met up with Nia by the checkout. "I wasn't sure how big of a box you'd get," Nia said between labored breaths, "so I tried to get a bit of everything."

No wonder she sounded so winded. She'd piled an entire cart full of flour, sugar, chocolate, and all the other supplies she could think of. At least the extras wouldn't go to waste. Her mom could always take some home for herself. Harriet just had to figure out something simple enough for her to get all the ingredients in the box.

"You okay to stand in line?" she asked.

Nia glanced at the long, winding lines while shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "I can manage."

"I think I'd feel better if you went and waited in the car," Harriet said gently. "You'll need your energy to bake later."

With a grateful nod, Nia tottered off to the parking lot, leaving Harriet to stand in line by herself.

The crowds were almost as bad as Black Friday with people pressed against each other in a sea of grumbling and wayward elbows. Harriet's back tensed as the breath of the person behind her warmed her neck.

"Damn lines," he muttered. "You'd think they'd hire some competent people this time of year."

"Or at least open a couple more stations," Harriet said.

When she finally reached the front of the line, the same teen from right before Halloween greeted her with a tired smile. Gone was his gothic garb, replaced by an elf costume that was at least three sizes too small and a pale green hat that kept dangling its bell right in front of his face. "It's good to see you again," he said. "Prepping for another party?"

"Something like that. What about you? Any plans for the holidays?"

"I'll be standing here and pretending hearing Jingle Bells at least fifty times a day doesn't make me want to scream. I am hoping to chill with my boyfriend afterward though." He blushed redder than the sprig of fake holly pinned to his hat. "Nothing fancy, just getting cozy with hot chocolate, a movie, and maybe a little mistletoe."

The man behind Harriet rolled his eyes. "Don't encourage him, lady. The line's long enough without him yapping."

Harriet looked him directly in the eye as she grabbed a handful of chocolate bars and put them on the counter. "That sounds lovely. Please treat yourselves to these for me, okay?"

"We definitely will, thanks," the cashier said.

Harriet kept chatting with him as he bagged the ingredients she'd bought, occasionally smirking over her shoulder at the fuming, impatient man behind her. "Happy holidays!" she said after the last of the egg cartons had been taken care of.

December's bitter chill greeted her with a gust of wind that leeched the warmth out of her the instant she stepped out of the store. Harriet pulled her thick coat tighter around herself. It wouldn't be long before she had more to warm her up if all went well.

Nia dragged herself out of the warmth of the car as Harriet approached. "That line must have been even worse than I thought. You sure you don't want me to take care of all this for you?"

"Don't worry about it. I just got a bit distracted chatting with a friend."

Harriet curled her nails under the top of the play set's packaging. Someone had already opened the box at some point, but the tape the store had used to reseal it was even more irritating to open than the cardboard itself. "Ages three and up, my ass! I know they have to childproof this shit, but do they have to make it impossible for adults to open, too?"

"Language," Nia chided. "But you're right. This is beyond silly. When you were little, I never had to worry about any fancy-schmancy packaging. All I had to worry about was the price tag."

"That's not rubbing it in at all," Harriet muttered. "Would you mind giving this a shot? I don't exactly have the nails for this."

The tape came away in thin strips as it stubbornly clung to the box. "I'm going to need an extra-long baking session after this," Nia muttered. She winced as she peeled a stray piece of tape off her finger.

"You and me both." Harriet pulled the play set out of the box. Just looking at all the ties holding the individual pieces in place made her blood pressure go up. "At least I don't have to worry about all of the packaging this time. I swear sometimes I spend more time unboxing this stupid stuff than Sam does actually playing with it."

"On the bright side, you should be able to spend a lot more time baking than unpacking this box."

Harriet hoped she was right.