“I went to visit mom today. She said she loves the African violets you brought her and was wondering if you could bring her some in pink next time you visit.”
“Oh that’s great!” I say. “I’ll make sure to get her some.” The pink ones were always my favorite. They made me think of the violets Grandma kept on her table in the sunroom. I used to pinch the cactus type plants, loving the way they’d squirt out water. The plastic green flooring meant to look like grass always left imprints on my skin which would itch for-
“Lynn? Are you even listening? I asked you where you got those flowers for mom.”
“Oh,” I say. “Sorry, er, I picked them up at that nursery by the Mass General.” They still have that wall full of buckets of candy that you can pick from to fill up a one price bag, only now it’s five dollars a bag instead of seventy-five cents. Dad always liked the gum that came in strings, a baseball picture on the package. I can’t remember the name though. I’d always steal-
“Ok, if you’re not going to pay me any attention, I’m just going to be on my way. Stop your daydreaming and learn to focus for goodness sake and maybe you’ll finally make something of yourself. You need to get your head out of the clouds, Lynn, I swear.”
I wish I could. For you. I hate this habit affects you…
But at night, it’s safer there.