(For some context, check out my previous entry, "Today's Visit From My Mother.")
So last evening, as I was talking to the artist Tommy Vinci, I notice my mother walking into the coffee shop.
I introduce her to Tommy, telling her he's the one whose paintings adorn a whole corner of the shop.
"Oh, you have a very bright imagination!" she exclaims. "Keep creating! It keeps you young!"
Tommy, as usual, is very gracious as my mother gushes over him.
Then she turns and hands me a big bag of almonds.
"I got you these for your prostate," she says.
I thank her, and we continue to make small talk for a while.
Then my mother says, "I have to go to the filipino store before it gets too dark."
As I walk her out to her car, she says, "You've been sick, haven't you?"
"I had a cold for a few days, but I'm okay now," I tell her.
"I can tell," she says as she slides into the driver's seat. "But you've lost too much weight. You need to eat more."
I reassure her that I'm doing just fine.
"Have you been dreaming?" she asks.
This is a new line of questioning.
"Doesn't everyone?" I reply.
"Well, I've been practicing on how to help you," my mother says. "So you'll be seeing me in your dreams soon."
"That's great, Mom," I say. "I need all the help I can get."
As she straps on her seat-belt, my mother follows up.
"Is anyone troubling you? I can tell you're being troubled," she says.
We're back to familiar territory now.
"No one's troubling me, Mom," I say. "I have no enemies that I know of."
She gives a kind of dismissive snort at this, as if to say I'm being overly naive.
"Well, when you figure out who's troubling you, just give me their name," she says.
"I will, Mom."
I watch as she backs her car out of its parking spot and heads off to buy who knows what.
Later, I sleep a little restlessly, wondering what dreams my Mom is going barge into.