She had that serious look on her face, her look of purpose, the one she got when she wanted to have one of her mother-daughter talks. I was sitting in an Adirondack chair eating toast and reading a magazine when my mother came out and joined me. She took pictures, but I never asked to look at them, and she never asked if I wanted to. She'd go to far-off places like Hungary or Alaska. When we were at Granna's, my mother took off on one of her trips. I wasn't sure if it was that she fell out of love or if it was that she just never was. She knew what she wanted she knew what she didn't want. To me, she was about as mysterious as a glass of water. Always reasonable, always sure of herself. He was a puzzle solver, the kind of person who likes theorems, theories. I think he would have stayed with her forever, trying to figure out the mystery.
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