I spend at least ten minutes describing the intricate details of the blouse—starting with the difficulties of getting the pattern just right, then the complexities of the cuffs and the hidden button at the back. After that, I switch to rambling about the fabrics I’m considering for when I eventually sew it, listing the pros and cons for each one.
Then, I let Massimo know about the barbecue Dad threw earlier this week, with most of the La Famiglia members in attendance. It was a big event. I write two paragraphs describing the outfits, as well as the gossip I overheard in the fifteen minutes I spent among the attendees.
As the words land on paper, I’m starting to feel better, but the situation with Kenneth is still heavy on my mind. Reeling from the encounter, and without really meaning t
