He winces a few times, but for the most part the gentle massage seems to help. He stays close to her, slowly lowering his arms until he's holding her around the waist as if they were slow-dancing.

"Great, that's what I need, an animal that can nag at me too. I'm sure she'd teach it to tell me I ought to get married and then turn around and say no one's good enough for me, too."

He knows Swann has a point, but either cynicism or exhaustion or just plain stubbornness leaves him unable to believe that his relationship with his mother could actually improve without her outright dying. Just thinking about putting effort in makes him feel tired. It makes him want to shut the world down, put it on pause. The future always seems like a grey smear, a fog he can't see into.

"Do you still see your father much?"