That Certain Summer by Irene Hannon

way.”
    â€œHow about that?” She shook her head. “But let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth. I was afraid it might take both of us to drag Mom to therapy.”
    â€œNope. I think she’ll go like a lamb.” After examining a head of broccoli, Val put it in her cart. “But I get plenty of resistance on other fronts. Like food. She doesn’t like anything I make.”
    â€œSo I’ve heard a time or two.”
    â€œNow why do I think that’s a gross understatement?” Val snagged a bunch of green onions. “I hear complaints every day, but her eating habits are atrocious. I’m trying to remedy that.”
    As Val regaled her with stories about the healthy menus she’d been preparing—and their mother’s reaction—Karen’s lips quivered. “I’m surprised she hasn’t had another stroke.”
    â€œNot yet. And not only is her diet healthier, she’s bound to lose a few pounds. A good thing, if you ask me. She’s gained a lot of weight. So tell me how Kristen’s progressing.”
    As Karen gave her an update, they trundled up and down the aisles, heading at last for the meat and seafood section. While Val perused a selection of tilapia, Karen scanned her sister’s cart. Val had focused on natural foods like whole-grain breads and fruits and vegetables, while her own basket was full of microwave dinners, salty snacks, cereal, and sweets.
    â€œI guess those dishes you’re making for Mom are the reason you stay so slender. Maybe I should adjust my diet too.”
    â€œAre you trying to lose weight?”
    â€œNo.” Karen picked up a package of ground beef. “But I should be. I’ve put on twenty-five pounds over the past two years.”
    Leaning over, Val did a quick survey of Karen’s cart. “It couldn’t hurt to modify your eating habits a little. A lot of that frozen stuff is high in salt and carbs.”
    â€œBut it’s easy to fix.” Her defenses rose. “And I don’t have time to prepare elaborate dinners.”
    â€œI don’t either, but I have a repertoire of quick, healthy meals, including some stir-frys that are out of this world. I’d be happy to share the recipes if you want to try them.”
    Karen weighed the pack of ground beef in her hand and put it in her cart. “You know, I don’t recall you cooking very much when we were growing up.”
    â€œI didn’t. Mom never taught me the domestic stuff. I think she expected me to be a Broadway star and have servants running around at my beck and call.” Val pushed her cart toward the front of the store.
    â€œI did too. You have the looks and the talent.”
    Karen only had a side view, but she caught a sudden, subtle tightening in Val’s features. “Good looks aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. I’d have traded them for your brains any day.”
    As Val guided her cart into the checkout lane and started unloading it, Karen glanced at her watch. This outing hadn’t been half bad. She couldn’t remember the last time the two of them had had a congenial, relaxed conversation.
    Maybe never.
    On impulse, she touched Val’s arm. “Do you want to stop for a quick cup of coffee? There’s a shop next door, and we have time to spare before your two-hour reprieve is up.”
    â€œA Saturday treat.” A soft smile played at Val’s lips. “That makes me think of our trips with Dad to the ice-cream parlor on summer Saturdays.”
    â€œYeah. Those are some of my happiest memories. Mom couldnever understand why we wanted to go with him to the hardware store every week. I don’t think she ever figured out our little secret.”
    â€œMe, neither.” Chuckling, Val grabbed the head of broccoli and put it on the conveyor belt. “Okay. Let’s do it. Maybe we can start a new tradition.”
    Five minutes later, as they sipped