Chapter 13
It doesn’t matter! Even if I’ll get very little time with my parents, I couldn’t not go home for Christmas: for me, Christmas means family. It means enjoying the never-ending Christmas Eve dinner with all my relatives and rounding off the meal with a digestif of my aunt’s limoncello, which is described by everyone each year as definitely better than the year before, even if in reality it’s totally identical. It means exchanging gifts after dinner and then playing cards in front of the fire until two in the morning. And above all, it means waking up late on the 25th with the unmistakable aroma of my mother’s broth spreading through the rooms of the house, and finding the tree surrounded by the packages that she carefully keeps hidden (bottom left behind the dining room curtain)
