AMORA GRIPPED the wheel while looking far down the two-way street. It was now 9 PM and few cars were out at this hour. With a sigh, she thought back to an hour earlier. Her mother had called in hopes that she'd stop by. On any normal occasion, Amora would have prepared a lasagna but the nursing home didn't accept visitors after a certain time. So after a brisk shower, she kissed her husband goodbye and hopped in the car. 

The nursing home came into view after rounding the corner. In the lot, two or three stragglers were parked in the visitor spaces. With a forced smile, she pulled in, grabbed her purse, and ducked under the black cloudless sky. 

"Hello," Amora said, stepping upfront. "I'm here to see Kara Kinley."

The receptionist nodded. "And what is your name?"

"Amora. Amora Davidson."

"Married, are we?" The receptionist began to type away, then straightened with a smile. "Room 23."

"Thank you." She fixed her sleeves for a moment. "Hope a good day."

"Or what?" the receptionist taunted. 

Amora stiffened while she glowered. "I'm-I'm sorry?"

Her eyes turned bright as she laughed. "I've just always wanted to say that," she said. "Now, go on! I'm sure Kara's waiting." 

Amora chuckled into a hand. Before rounding the corner, she passed a kind smile and began down the hallway. When she reached the room, though, she stopped and pondered. Her mother's tone had seemed urgent. Despite Amora's persistence, she wished to meet face-to-face. With a sigh, she knocked and stepped back. 

Footsteps shuffled to the door and there was a steady silence. 

"Mom? Are you in there?"

The door swung open and her mother stood in the entryway. Her hair was in a messy bun, her clothing hanging over her thin frame. After a moment, her dim gaze lit up. "Is that... Is that you?"

"Yes." Amora smiled as she hugged her. When her mother returned the gesture, it was weak and shaky. "How's it going, Mom?" She gently pulled back, steading the woman by the shoulders. "Do you happen to remember the phone call?"

Her mother waved her off with a smile. "You're the cleaning lady. Don't try to make me feel old." She nudged her daughter's hands away, then wandered into her room and slumped on the bed. "You're Margaret, Susie? Or- or was it Lassie?"

 Amora stopped in the doorway, peering in. "Not quite... Mom. Not quite."

"Mom?" her mother asked. 

Amora sank into the plastic chair beside the bed. "Yes, Mom. It's me. It's Amora."

The woman gazed at her. "My... daughter?" She blinked a few times. "Ah, yes, Amora. Is that right? Is that my daughter's name?"

"Yes, Mom," she affirmed. "Now, do you remember why you called?"

"No, I don't even remember calling you."

Amora cranked her neck to hide her dismay. With a tight smile, she reached out to gently squeeze her hand. "Mom, then I'd love to know how you're doing. I haven't seen you in a week."

"Oh, I've been just lovely," the woman said. "We got tacos today since it's Tuesday. I always look forward to Tuesday."

Despite it being a Sunday, Amora remained unfazed. Her mother's Alzheimer's progressed each visit and even the significant details were often jumbled. What stung most, though, was when her mother failed to recognize her own daughter. 

Amora straightened up. "I know how much you love tacos and lasagna." 

"I prefer lasagna and they never make it!" the woman huffed. "What is life without lasagna?"

She stifled a laugh. "I'll have to bring some next time, then."

"Amora?" Her mother's gaze steadied on her. "Enough about me. How are you doing?"

"Me?" Her smile slipped when she recalled last week. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

"Try again. You're clearly pitying yourself. What's going on?"

Amora glanced at her, thought for a moment, then look away. "It's about my friend from high school. Do you remember Willow?"

Her mother remained silent. 

"She called me last week and had some news," Amora went on. "I could hear the excitement." 

"And what was the news?"

"She's pregnant with Oliver and they're having twins. I should- I should feel happy for them."

Her eyes widened. "Then why don't you?" Just as soon, they dimmed. "You want kids of your own. Is that it?"

Amora nodded, unsure of what to say. 

"You're young, dear. You're, what, twenty?"

"Not quite, Mom," she said. "I'm turning twenty-seven this year."

"That's okay, dear." She gave a warm smile. "You just need to find a man that has your best interest in heart. That's it." A pause. "Well, of course, I'd also like to meet him," she ended with a wink.

Amora sighed. "Mom, I've been married to Thomas for three years."

She went quiet, staring at the ground. 

"Mom?"

Her mother looked away with a sharp jerk. A moment later, her posture relaxed and she lifted her head. "I remember now."

"Wait, what?" Amora sat quietly for a few moments, then peered up. "What do you remember?"

"I remember why I called you."

Amora stiffened as she fought for words. 

"I had a dream last night and it involved you."

Her mother's dreams often came true. She had one about the dog, her best friend...

"And what did you see?" she asked. "Mom?"

"You're about to have kids of your own."

'His Last Smile' is officially over. It's been a fun ride but I'm ready to start new stories. I appreciate any of you who have stuck with me to the end. Thank you. I hope it was as enjoyable to read as it was to write. 

With this said, feel free to ask questions or point out flaws. I'd love to improve. 

Last but not least, I have a few questions. As always, you can skip over these:

1) Who's your favorite character?

2) Who's your least favorite character?

3) How can I improve?

Well, I hope everyone is well and God bless. <3