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Four Weeks Later
New York
Charlie
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“ARE YOU SURE you don’t want to come and live with me for a while?” my mother, Bianca, asked as the limo drove us to the airport. She’d just finished signing the paperwork to sell Dad’s home in Buffalo and was flying back to Paris. Fortunately, for me, she’d been able to stick around for the last three weeks. It had been the longest time she’d stayed in the States since I’d graduated from high school.
I reached into the new black purse mom had given me and pulled out a mirror. It was one of her newest designs and named “Charlie.” It was gorgeous and I’d been honored when she’d presented it to me.
“I’m starting at Fremont next week, remember?” I said.
“That’s right. The culinary school. You mentioned that it
