10/14/10: Way to shame me into updating again by commenting, people who comment! (Seriously, though, hi, welcome, and pull up one of the splintery old orange crates that we use for seating 'round these parts seein' as we can't afford no fancy chairs.)

The rules from
here still apply.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Thanks, Mom

The old woman's eyes brightened, and she clasped her hands together. "Oh, how nice to see you! Why, it's been so long since you came to visit --" Then the smile slipped from her face. "You... are here to visit with me, aren't you, dear?"

The younger woman shrugged, not actually making eye contact. "Let's go on a trip, ma."

The old woman sagged. "Oh, Megan..."

"C'mon, ma, it'll be fun." The younger woman -- Megan -- reached into her purse and pulled something out. A roadmap and a magnifying glass. "You know how I hate tryin' ta navigate while I'm drivin'."

"Oh, but Megan." The old woman resettled her glasses on her face. "Why don't we have a nice evening here at the Home? They're serving meatloaf tonight, and -- and there's a new jigsaw puzzle I haven't done yet, and..." She trailed off, only looking at her daughter, who was still looking at nothing in particular. "Please, dear, it's been so long since we've visited together."

Megan rolled her eyes and glanced at her watch. "You done, ma?" She finally looked at the other woman long enough to shove the map into her hands. "Come on, I gotta be in Roca Escalante by nine or I lose my deposit." She looked around, nose wrinkling. "And I wanna get outta here. This place smells like a damn diaper."

"You did pick it for me, dear," the old woman murmured; but she was already being overruled, Megan's strong grip on her arm propelling her toward the door.

"Now let's get goin', huh ma? You get me where I'm goin', an' I'll drop ya back off on th' way back. Teamwork, right?"

"I suppose," the old woman answered quietly, beginning to actually follow her daughter instead of just being dragged along. "Although... I don't suppose we could at least eat something this time?"

Megan snorted. "Christ, ma, I'm not made of money."

Ordinarily I don't do the Sundays -- in fact, I think I never have before, ever -- but this one just spoke to me. Who says the mom actually wants to be in that car?

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