Mom seemed to recall the matter, but then appeared to remember something else. She asked the owner, “Do you have any newly made cakes today? My younger daughter is turning eighteen.”

“Of course. We have strawberry, blueberry, and mango flavors.”

Mom was at a loss. She had no idea what flavor I liked. She had never cared about such things before; she just made sure I ate whatever was necessary to keep me healthy and never asked about my preferences.

She looked up, bewildered, and said, “I don’t know what she likes.”

“Then let’s get a strawberry cake. Most girls love that, and I’m sure your daughter will too.”

I...