“Are you kidding? You don’t have to do this for me. I can live without them. They’re only shoes. I have plenty at home already, I promise you.”

“I haven’t bought anything for you in your entire life.” Grace patted her arm. “Don’t deprive me of the pleasure of doing so now.”

Monica paused. “Are you sure?”

“I won’t have it any other way.”

At the register, Grace paid for the purchase in cash, peeling away an assortment of bills from a bulging knot of rubber-banded money. Monica wondered if her mother was one of those old-school folks who didn’t use bank accounts and dealt only in hard currency. Regardless, her mother worked as a nanny, was nearing retirement age, and needed to preserve her funds. Monica felt guilty about bringing them to the shopping mall in the first place, though it had been her mother’s idea.

“Why don’t we get something for you, too?” Monica asked as they left the department store. “My treat?”

“You don’t have to do that,” Grace said.

Monica smiled. “I’m a grown woman. I haven’t bought anything for my mother in my entire life. Don’t deprive me.”

“Touché.” Grace clasped her hands. “All right then. Is there a lingerie store on the premises?”

Monica’s smile froze. That was not what she had expected Grace to say. She had thought her mother would request shoes, a new bag, or a dress.

“Sure, I think so,” Monica said. “But listen, there are a lot of other stores here, too. I think there’s a Coach shop across the way.”

“I’d love to get something sexy to wear.” Grace winked. “I may be older, but I’m not dead. You’re only as old as you allow yourself to feel.”

Someone needs to convince my body of those words, Monica thought. She was finding it difficult to keep up with Grace as her mother marched across the concourse, heels clicking, and at one point, needed to ask Grace to wait a minute, so she could sit on a bench and catch her breath.

I’ve got to find out what’s going on with me, Monica thought. I’m feeling completely out of sorts.

At the lingerie store, Grace twirled around the shop like a giddy starlet, plucking pieces of clothing from the racks and posing with them, asking questions such as, “How much lift do you think this will give my boobs?” and “Is my butt too big for me to wear this?” The sales clerk on duty, a petite red-headed girl of perhaps twenty-one, appeared amused by Grace’s behavior, and for her part, Monica felt her face steaming with embarrassment.