Dreams

Three

I lie in my bed, remembering where I am. I'm in my room. It was just a dream.

Light shines through my window, past the thin curtains that fail at doing their job. I squint, making a hissing sound at the brightness. I crinkle my nose and shove my face in a pillow. Let me sleep. Let me go back to that dream. Let me go to that castle. But as I keep tossing and turning, I realize the effort is futile. So, I sit up for good, licking my dry lips, and rubbing my eyes.

The clock shows me 9:47. It's a Saturday, so I shouldn't have expected Mom to wake me up.

I check my phone, in case Casey left me a message. None. After a year with no contact, I am no longer surprised. She probably changed numbers, for sure. I check Facebook too, knowing full well how pathetic I'm being, but I just can't help it. Again, I am greeted by the same disappointing screen of no new activity.

Why do you keep doing this? She's not your friend anymore.

Shaking my head and tossing my phone, I go downstairs. I take my seat in the dining table. My favorite purple cat coffee mug rests in the middle, ready for use. The coffee maker is already full, and still warm. Weird but I just shrug and don't question it. The TV noise stops, and my mother walks into the kitchen.

At first she looks at me disapprovingly, and I roll my eyes. Sure, my hair is a mess and I'm still in pajamas, but it's not like I'll be leaving my room for anything but food anyway.

But her look of distaste disappears and is replaced by a big smile that I can only describe as creepy. "Good morning, do you want pancakes?"

Who are you and what have you done to my mother? "Uh... I guess?"

"Bacon too?"

"Sure."

"Coming right up."

The pan sizzles and the smell of bacon spreads in the air. At the same time, my mom finishes the last pancake. I'm about to get the plate, but she delivers it to me before I can even stand. I open the fridge to get the butter, but it's no longer there. The syrup is no longer in its shelf either. I see them next to the plate and my mom smiles at me, all while maintaining the bacon in the pan.

I take a bite, feeling the wonderful blend of sweet syrup, butter, and pancake. Immediately, I drop my fork and look at Mom, who has just finished rounding up the bacon. "Okay, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, making bacon and pancakes, readying everything for me, not a single remark on how I look like a bed monster, something's up. What is it?"

"I was thinking we'd go to the mall later."

Everything makes sense. "Oh joy," I mumble, drinking the remaining coffee—more than half the cup—all in one gulp. I smile, satisfied and warm, and sink into my chair. I put a bacon strip in between my teeth.

"Please, Lia, we need this mother-daughter bonding. It brings us closer together."

No, you just love shopping and you want me to love it too. Even when I've told you how much I hate it.

"Mom...."

"I was doing the groceries the other day, and there's a huge sale going on. I saw a really cute dress that would look great on you at half its original price. And, I also saw the perfect pair of shoes for it." She acts like an excited little girl, her voice high and her feet bouncing. "Oh, today's going to be great! When you finish your breakfast, go get ready. We're going to shop all day!"

"Okay." I smile for her. It will make her happy, I tell myself, even when I know that it will make me miserable.

~