“Mom!” Lidia calls from the kitchen.

I love the weekends she comes home from college. This house is too big and quiet for one person.

“Hmm?” I mumble, while watering my snake plant in the front room.

“It’s still not up here,” my daughter states in a maternal tone, hands propped on her hips.

“You’re gonna make me regret telling you about my therapy sessions and assignments,” I inform her as I make my way to the kitchen. I stand opposite her at the ...