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She looked stronger this morning, Hannah thought, with a hint of pink in her cheeks that hadn’t been there yesterday and a sparkle in her eyes that gave Hannah a fragile ribbon of hope.
Despite the effort it had taken to get here, this visit had been good for her. Hannah could see it in every line of Morgan’s face.
The remains of their takeout breakfast—crumpled sandwich wrappers, empty coffee cups, a half-eaten fruit cup—lay scattered across the table. Hannah busied herself gathering containers and stacking paper plates.
“I wish we could stay longer,” Riley said, her voice wobbling just enough to betray how close she was to tears.
“I’m sorry,” Hannah said gently. “The next band of storms is supposed to hit later and I’d like to be home before that happens. We’ve already pushed our luck.”
“I’ll see you again soon,” Morgan promised, hugging her children more closely, her fingers white-knuckled in the fabric of their shirts.
“When?” Carter asked. “Will you be home for Christmas?”
“Oh, I hope so, honey.” Morgan smoothed his hair back from his forehead. “That’s the plan.”
Hannah wasn’t sure how it would happen. Morgan’s next treatment was scheduled only a few days before the holiday and doctors would only let her go home if she felt well enough to travel.
Still, Hannah clung to hope. Christmas miracles had to happen for someone. Why not for them?
“Why can’t we stay with you until then?” Riley asked, the thin, plaintive note back in her voice.
Morgan sent a helpless look toward Hannah.
“Because you have another week and a half of school before Christmas break,” Hannah said gently, coming to sit on the arm of the sofa. “And I have work. Plus you’ve got the Christmas concert and your class party to worry about.”
“It will go so fast, sweetheart,” Morgan said. “You’ll see. I’ll try to make it home for Christmas and then I only have two more treatments in January.”
“And then you’ll be all better?” Carter asked, looking up at her with wide, trusting eyes.
Morgan’s gaze met Hannah’s over the tops of their heads. She saw fear and uncertainty in her friend’s expression but Morgan quickly smoothed it away, her features softening into something calm and serene.
“That’s what the doctors are working for,” she said. “That’s what we’re all praying for.”
Hannah knew the truth was far more complicated. She knew about the brutal unknowns of cancer. But this wasn’t the moment to dive into all that. Right now, the children needed hope more than statistics.
“One more hug, then we need to go,” Hannah said softly. “Wes and Kodi are waiting for us outside.”
The kids obeyed, wrapping themselves around their mother, clinging and upset.
Morgan closed her eyes, burying her face in their hair, breathing them in.
“Love you forever,” she whispered.
“And a day,” the children chorused, their voices muffled against her robe.
Hannah’s throat burned.
When they finally eased away, she stepped forward and folded Morgan into her own arms. Her friend felt so slight, so breakable.
“You are the best friend anyone could ask for, Han,” Morgan said, her voice thick. “I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you for what you’ve done for my kids. Bringing them here to celebrate my birthday, of course, but mostly giving them a safe place to land while I’m stuck here.”
“Not another word,” Hannah said firmly, pulling back enough to look her in the eye. “I’ve loved having them. And I’m going to repeat my invitation. I think you all should stay with me while you’re home for Christmas. The children can double up in one room, and you can take Riley’s.”
“It’s such an imposition,” Morgan protested weakly.
“It’s really not. If you stay at your house, you’ll have to get groceries, put up a tree, cook meals, worry about all the things. I know you want to be with them for Christmas, but this is the easiest way to make that happen. All of our friends want to help. I’ve had so many offers of food and after-school help. Let us take care of you and the kids. You just focus on being with them, okay?”
Morgan’s eyes filled. She blinked up at the ceiling, fighting for composure.
