Nico
"Mama," I greeted as I opened my door. The lunch she had planned to have with me had been rescheduled and postponed so many times over the last few weeks that she wasn't willing to take no for an answer anymore.
She stood in the doorway clutching a dish full of what smelled like her homemade chicken carbonara recipe. It was one of my favorites that she made and brought back memories of comfort and some of the happiness I felt in my childhood — feelings that were few and far between.
The smell hit me first. Cream. Garlic. Black pepper cracked fresh too. Nothing from my mother was prepackaged or processed. If it wasn't made from scratch, she wanted nothing to do with it. A smile tilted at my lips as I inhaled deeply, savoring the smells. I heard footsteps behind me as Dominic appro
