I called Mom from Flagstaff tonight to stay in touch with her and give her the vicarious pleasure of the drive to Colorado.
"Hi, Mom. I'm in Flagstaff," I announced.
"Oh, good. I'm coming too. That woman is going to take me, the one with the little dog."
"Oh... you mean Louisa?"
"Yes, she's going to pick me up and drive me."
"Oh, I see."
I don't say, "But she lives in Boulder. It's not convenient for her to pick you up in California and then drive to Telluride."
Louisa did drive Mom to Trout Lake one summer a few years ago, from Boulder, so Mom has a few facts right.
I change the subject, and we talk a bit more.
Then I hang up, wondering if maybe I could take her to Colorado later in the summer.