“I loved Venice too,” Frannie said. “But I’m going with Capri. The Blue Grotto, and the views were spectacular.”

We reached the town, and I was surprised at the well-maintained look of the houses and buildings—impeccable and bright with colors in mustard, rust, and burgundy. The shops were filled with local delights of all kinds. We crammed bags with hunks of pecorino cheese and crusty bread; ripened tomatoes and pasta; chestnuts, olives, earthy mushrooms, and fresh trout caught right in the nearby lake.

The shopkeepers spoke English and chatted with us, pointing out various places to visit and giving hints to Allegra on good ways to cook the fish. Arms full, we poked around and steeped ourselves in the local atmosphere, then stopped at a café and drank chilled Pellegrino, soda, and iced coffee while we nibbled on the hard edges of the bread.

“These mushrooms are sick,” Allegra moaned. “I think we can probably pick them ourselves right outside our villa!”

Frannie choked on her coffee. “Please don’t. I can’t handle a mistake where I eat a fungus and get sick for the rest of the trip. Also, I think that’s a way to get high.”

Allegra laughed. “Mom, you know about magic mushrooms? I’m impressed. Did you do any when you were young?”

“No! I didn’t do any drugs when I was younger,” she said with a huff. “I was too afraid of what the stuff would make me do. Also, I didn’t want to get hooked. That’s why I freaked out on you.”

Allegra looked at her mother with surprise. Sure, she’d yelled and accused and punished, but she’d never spoken from her heart about why Allegra’s decision to smoke weed had terrified her. Kids kept many secrets, so I figured Frannie had done her share of experimentation with drugs and alcohol, even though I kept a close eye. Hearing that, though, made me realize she’d always needed control in her life. She’d rarely gotten drunk or done anything that affected her ability to make her own decisions. It must’ve been hard to always follow such a straight, narrow course without exploring any side roads.

Like Jack. My beloved husband had been content to follow the path ahead without distraction. For me, there’d been no time or opportunity to figure out whether I liked adventure or not. I’d been told exactly what my life was going to be like, and I had accepted it with grace. I’d wanted more for Frannie, yet she’d picked the same exact straightforward lifestyle. How odd that a mother’s dream for her daughter can end up taking a detour and leading right back to what you always dreaded.

Her becoming just like you.

“What about smoking a cigarette?” Allegra asked in surprise.

“I think I did a puff once, but I didn’t like it.”