We were not strangers to bloody murder mysteries. I told her it was Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman on the trail of a serial killer. We had both seen trailers, but my mother still didn't know much about the movie going in. Still, we managed to grab seats in our preferred spot-left side, right on the center aisle, about half way back from the screen. The film had garnered a lot of hype, so the theater was packed. We were there to see David Fincher's " Seven" on opening night. We walked into the lobby and bought our tickets. It in no way seemed strange that she would use a mug one can't just drink straight from the bottle. I sat there silently as she finished off the mug in a few big gulps. She poured a healthy amount into a coffee mug she kept under the front seat. I moved to get out of the car, but my mother said, "Give me just a minute." She reached into her purse sitting on the back seat and pulled out a bottle of wine. We parked in the underground lot of the old Trolley Corners Cinema, a three-screen theater that within a few years would make way for the offices of local radio stations.
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