Ollie awakened from the dream with a smile. One of his favorite childhood memories was helping his Sicilian mother make her spaghetti sauce and meatballs every Sunday. He had done it throughout his life. He could now make her simmer-all-day, thick, rich, and delicious sauce with his eyes closed. Even though he used all the same ingredients in all the same proportions, it never tasted quite the same. Good, but just not quite the same. There was no substitute for a mother’s love.
He rolled over on the air mattress, almost tipping out of bed. He’d be glad when the furniture store, Dania, delivered his real bed.
Outside the wind was howling, and it was at that point in the Pacific Northwest winter when it felt like the chill that had settled into your bones and the rain that never stopped wo
