She sits in the passenger seat fiddling with the seat belt as we drive to lunch at Europane. We discuss the cost of fighting Faye Mabb and her little eviction. My mom is a divorce lawyer in town and begins the conversations by educating me on just how illegal Faye's little eviction is. The question then becomes whether or not I want to stay.

"She was laughing and joking about me and the dog living in the back of my car," I tell my mother as we order at the counter.

Wooden tables and chairs dot the bakery's cement floor. It's the eafting smells of fresh bread and pastries rather than flourishes of décor that make this bakery a great destination.

"Joking about you having to live in the back of the car? She said that? Asshole."