Chapter Eleven
We were on the road three weeks, in campsites and hostels. I was in love with my life on the lam; this was the most perfect way to forget the city and experience my first freedom—Rossi, my parents, my career, architectural form, clients, Ripley & Wingardt and its dozen partners. Gone. Out of my world forever—at least in these first few halcyon days.
I was ready for anything new, letting the old slide away. Only once I thought about the way I left my job—and all my abrupt and hurried explanations for forfeiting my plum position. I sat one night face to face with KC in front of the campfire. Tears started to flow and he peered at me through the smoke.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“That was a really dumb thing, leaving,” I said glumly. These things had been stewing in me
