Grace was in a fine mood. At the restaurant, throughout their meal, her mother flirted shamelessly with the waiter. He was a dark-haired young man who could not have been any older than twenty-five and bore a passing resemblance to Bruno Mars.

“Age is nothing but a number, my dear,” Grace said to Monica after the waiter had come by to refresh their beverages. Eyes twinkling, she kept her gaze nailed on the server as he strolled away. “Look at that tight little ass on him. Yummy. I’d love to give it a good squeeze and ride him like a bronco.”

“All right now.” Monica blushed. She had to remind herself that her mother was single, and in her own words, “thoroughly enjoyed sex.” Her mother’s free-love attitude was a dramatic contrast to Lily’s puritan perspective on all sexual matters. Lily had raised her to follow those same strict guidelines; before she married Troy, Monica had been intimate with only two other men, and had actually experienced some guilt about those relationships, as Lily had always advocated saving your virginity for marriage.

She could only speculate about how many sexual partners her mother had entertained over the years. She didn’t plan on ever asking. Some things were better left unsaid.

Next, they went to Lenox Square in Buckhead, a huge indoor shopping center that Monica visited from time to time. Although it was early November, the mall was already decorated for the upcoming holidays. To Monica, it seemed the annual holiday shopping season kicked off earlier each year, part of the retail industry’s relentless pursuit of consumer dollars.

Monica had intended only to browse, but at Neiman Marcus, she wound up falling in love with a sizzling pair of Michael Kors boots. She’d always had a weakness for shoes, to which the few dozen pairs in her closet at home were proof positive.

But the boots cost two hundred dollars. She loved a new pair of shoes as much as the next woman, but as a matter of principle, she wasn’t going to drop that kind of money on an impulse purchase. She could hear Lily’s admonishing voice in her mind: save your money, sweetheart, and one day it will save you. Lily’s lessons on frugality had sunk so deep that Monica had developed a tendency to avoid buying anything, even a cup of coffee, on impulse. She would make a mental note about the item, review her monthly budget, and perhaps wait until the boots went on sale.

With a sigh, she put them back on the display shelf.

“I thought you loved those?” Grace asked.

“I don’t need them.” Monica shrugged.

Grace scowled. “Nonsense. If you want them, get them. You’ve had a difficult time lately, child. Consider it retail therapy.”

“Did you see the price tag?” Monica shook her head. “Not today. Maybe later.”

“I’ll buy them for you.” Grace reached for her purse.