This story is about motherly love taken too far. Joyce Carol Oates uses a trip to the mall to explore the relationship between a lonely, divorced mother and her 17-year-old daughter. At one point, the mother wants to ask her daughter: Why are you unhappy? Why do you hate me? Later, the mother stares at her with hatred. The girl is blossoming into independent womanhood. She has been the sole focus of her mother’s life, and the mother is having trouble “letting go”. My advice to the mum: find new interests, buy a cuddly dog, and hope for grandchildren.
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Funny how you say the mother should “hope for grandchildren.” She might get just that.
Read the story again. The daughter is experiencing more than is expressly stated.
Cheers :)
Thank you for taking the time to comment, Stefan. Different interpretations of stories are always welcome. All the best :)