“Thank you for unpacking for me and hanging up the clothes I wore yesterday.”
“It’s what mothers do. You were dead to the world. How are you feeling?”
“Much better. How do you manage it?”
She knew what I was talking about; she gave me an innocent glance. “It’s a gift.”
“Yes, I imagine it is.” I just wished I’d gotten it as well.
“Shall I order breakfast?”
“I hope you haven’t been waiting for me.”
“I had the Continental breakfast a few hours ago, but I wouldn’t say no to a croissant and another cup of coffee. Would you prefer the English or the European breakfast?”
“Decisions, decisions….”
She chuckled. “Go take your shower. I’ll order both.”
“Thank you, Mother. You’re a treasure.”
“I am, aren’t I?”
I laughed myself, then closed the door, laid out what I’d need, and walked into the bath that adjoined my room.
“I hope everything is still warm,” I said as I came out of the bedroom, fastening a cufflink.