Mother surprised me that evening by avoiding talk of lunch and the Bohemians. By the time supper rolled around, I was convinced that she had chosen to forget about lunch. I spent most of the evening in front of the television, my attention riveted to a Twins game while she fixed dinner.
Without a word, she set my plate on the coffee table, dropped onto the sofa beside me, and flipped through the TV Guide. “There"s a movie coming on tonight. You want to watch that with me?”
I shrugged, munching on macaroni and ham. When the Twins game ended, she turned to her movie, having missed the first five minutes. I went to my room and returned with my notebook. When I came back down the hall, I could hear a quiet rumbling sound. She had fallen asleep on the sofa and was snoring. I covered her up, r
