"Mom," Amy said as she greeted the woman standing in her living room, her arm clutched with a luxurious purse. "I didn't know you were coming."
"I miss you, too, Amelia." Amy's mom said as she extended her cheeks to kiss Amy. "When Jen told me you were sick, I didn't know it was this bad.
Look at you, still in your pajamas at this time of day," she taunted, looking at Amy from up to bottom, then bottom up. Growing up, Amy's mom had disciplined them to always dress to par- to always be presentable. They have separate closets for house clothes, going-out clothes, business attire, and pajamas.
"Jen told you I was sick?" Amy asked, her brows crimped.
