“Actually, Mom, we’re going to air a show next week that will have my name alone in the credits. It’s kind of about Marilyn Monroe’s death and it’s a big sweeps show for us—so the computer guy doesn’t need to worry about me, okay?”

“Really?” She sounded doubtful.

“Yes, really.”

“So, if you wrote it on your own, does that mean you get paid more money?”

This made me smile; now I had her attention.

“Yes, it is more money when I write a show on my own.” I was treading carefully; if she had any idea how much more I was making for the Marilyn show, she’d definitely be hitting me up for another loan. “Jennifer Love Hewitt is going to play the lead guest star role. It’s going to be awesome!”

“Why would Jennifer Love Hewitt want to do your show when that show she’s on is so good? You know she can talk to dead people?”

“I know she can talk to dead people. I know she’s ‘The Ghost Whisperer,’ but she loves Flesh and Bone and is doing the show that I wrote all on my own.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to be sure to watch the show then.”

I decided to let it all pass. I asked her how she was, knowing she was never that great.

“I was really expecting my commission check from work to be bigger this month.”

Mom worked at Crate and Barrel and lived and died by her commission. She was always thinking it would be more, and she always ended up short at the end of the month. Mom was part of C&B’s team of “Design Specialists” and often made house calls to some of her bigger clients. Now she moved on to regale me with stories of her clients in Scottsdale, where she had gone on vacation this month, and how they had a safe in the house for the wife’s jewelry.

Mom didn’t ask any more questions about me. I was in robot mode with my prompts, and she just kind of talked at me, which was fine, because when she grilled me it could be really draining. “I know how you just get caught up with Dave and forget things,” she said, “so I wanted to remind you that I’m going to be in LA in a couple of weeks, and . . .”

I had forgotten, thanks to my trip, the Marilyn show, and all the obsessing over Dave’s Mr. Softy. Damn her.

“Well,” she went on, “you told me you’d put it in your calendar before, but I know you forget, so be sure to make that lunch reservation.”