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I called Mom while I was shopping and asked, “Should I bring chocolate cake or apple pie for Christmas?” – Welcome

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“Us.”

Not the bungalow.

Us.

I agreed.

She chose a coffee shop halfway between our homes.

Neutral territory.

That mattered.

At my parents’ house, I automatically knew where the tea was, which cups Mom liked, what needed clearing, and what problem I should solve next.

At a coffee shop, we were simply two women across from each other.

For several seconds, neither continue reading …

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