OMG. I think I blacked out at this stage, or my ears just automatically closed. Whenever my mom started a sentence with “I’ve been reading a book,” or “I googled it,” I just knew some diatribe of strange information was about to come out, whether it was about thoughts manifesting physical things, or how waking up and meditating before the start of each day would make you a millionaire before the end of the year. I zoned out as her lips began moving at speed.

“. . . proven . . . scientific fact . . . negativity and negative words . . . water molecules . . . manifesting . . . actual electromagnetic energy . . . laws of attraction . . .”

Her lips flapped, her mouth opened and closed and she was talking at me as if she was a preprogrammed robot. I couldn’t remember the last time my mother and I’d had a real conversation. Her version of conversation was reciting to me whatever theory she was currently obsessed with. Last month it was some crystal that could remove negativity from the air and attract “wealth abundance,” whatever that meant.

“Okay, okay, I have to go.” I started to turn away from her, cutting the lecture short.

“I have to have a house like this!” she suddenly yelled. It was so abrupt and jarring that I swung around in shock. Her voice echoed around the room, and the walls repeated her words back to me twice before it was silent again.

“If I am Barbara Palmer of Palm Luxury Realty, I need to project the image of luxury at all times. I have a reputation to uphold. I have to remain true to my personal brand. Have you seen my new ad?” On closer inspection, her eyes looked red around the rims, as if she’d been crying.

“Yes,” I said flatly.

“And what is more luxurious, what says and lives and breathes luxury more than this house?” Then she turned around and walked in a small circle. She seemed very agitated tonight. More so than usual.

“Besides, have you seen what your father just bought?” She said this part almost under her breath, as if I was almost not meant to hear it. But I had. My mother swears blind that she doesn’t badmouth my dad, but she does. Not that I blame her, I guess. “That penthouse at their new development.” She lowered herself onto the couch again. “I wonder if they’ll be getting married there too. Might as well, since it started there.”

“What?” I moved closer to her.

“What?” she replied glibly.

“You just said that they might as well get married there?”

“Oh, didn’t he tell you?”

“Tell me what?”