"My mother seems to be going completely insane," she said. She was rummaging through that purse-thing she has, probably loooking for a cigarrette. "I went home last weekend, just for a visit, you know--stop by, say hi, since it's been a while.

"It was a very nice visit, you know the kind: everything relaxed; the way you remember the good times when you were growing up, but with a, I don't know, tension gone? Because you feel you're friends now, as adults." I nodded slightly in encouragement. She'd found the cigarrette now, and took a second to light it.

I watched as she exhaled all the smoke, and then took a breath of plain air before saying, "But when I got ready to go, she gave me the gifts." She always does that, and I find it oddly endearing--she never talks with smoke in her lungs; it's always a human talking, and not the dragon.

I'd distracted myself, and waited too long to pick up on the hint that it was my turn to ask a question. "The gifts?" I asked...

...and saw her shoot me a quick grin; she'd seen the pause, and knew its cause. I'd been staring at her again, a habbit I hadn't yet gotten out of. She took a sip of her tea, and flipped her hair over her shoulder, the grin softening to a smile. "Yeah, she always gives me these little gifts when it's time for me to come back to the city. I know why, too--it's her way of holding on.

"I don't visit much anymore, and failing to write letters is a trait that runs in the family, and though I phone....She gets lonely, especially since Dad died."

I nodded again, as the conversation rapidly became more one to listen to than to talk in. Which was fine with me, sitting there with my coffee, listening to the sun hit the street outside the window, and feeling it run through her softly brown hair.

"So she gives me little things, things she thinks I need, or that will remind me of home. Oh, of course she doesn't think about it like that, but still...

"This time, it was a frying pan and some maple syrup. I laughed a little when I saw them, and she did too--I mean, it's sort of an odd combination. And we hugged each other, and I came back to school, and promised myself I'd go back sooner this time, and bug John to visit her too, and bring his kids."

She took a long moment, drank some more of her tea, and turned slightly to look out the window at the autumn sunshine hitting the sidewalk outside. I marvelled anew at this woman, and felt a sudden urge to lean across the table and kiss her gently. I finished my coffee instead, smiling inwardly both at the romantic impulse and inhibitions that wouldn't let me follow through.