I sipped the last of my coffee, and turned the cup upside down on the saucer. “Want to read my cup?” I asked, trying to change the subject. “The grounds will dry soon.”

A flush spread slowly over her cheeks, maroon blotches on her olive skin. “No, thanks,” she answered. “I can see your future without looking in your cup.”

As I lay with John on our first night as a married couple, I remembered that had been one of the last times she had visited the apartment, because soon after, I announced my engagement.

A few weeks after the wedding, I was at work, dressing my mannequin in the window. Her head was busted and taped up in the back, making it difficult to pull the tight red turtleneck over it and down her torso. I struggled with her for a while, even tilting her sideways to maneuver the clothing over her slim frame, but I was having no luck and had only worked up an intense sweat. It was when I had ripped the denim skirt off the mannequin and given up on the turtleneck altogether, and was standing there with the nude foam and plastic figure, deciding what to do, that I noticed John’s mother walking by, carrying her groceries in eco-friendly canvas totes. She only came down to South Philly to shop at Zagarella’s Italian grocery store, because all her friends shopped there. “They make their own pasta,” she told me once, which explained why she made the twenty-minute trip.

I banged on the window until she turned around, bags dangling on both her sides, her heavy crocheted purse hanging from her shoulder.

John’s mother had a soft face, which rolled up into a gentle smile when she saw me. Her hair was, as usual, coiled up into a tight twist, although small wisps of steel gray framed her forehead, smoothing the otherwise harsh style. Her eyes, like John’s, shone dark blue, like sapphires.

I hurried out to the front door to see her. She returned my hug gently. “Don’t want to hug you too hard,” she said with a small laugh, gesturing toward the bulge at my belly. “How are you, Hunan?” She still pronounced my name like it was a region of China, but I had given up trying to correct her.

“Fine, Mom,” I answered. “You’re doing your shopping early this morning, huh?”

“John’s uncle is coming for dinner tonight. Why don’t you and John and your parents join us, dear?”

“My parents are busy, I think. But maybe John and I will stop by, if we don’t have to attend a dinner his department is hosting.” I hoped we didn’t have to go, because I really didn’t like John’s colleagues.

“Alright,” she answered, then she looked startled as she glanced into the store window. “Oh my, your mannequin is missing her clothing—and part of her head!”