Chapter 3
The night after my birthday I was expected at my parents’ house for dinner. My mother would never come to my apartment. She hadn’t stepped foot there and probably never would even though she was quick to declare it had to be a mess because she wasn’t there to clean up after me. So, even though things were not exactly great between my father and me, I dutifully went to dinner.
“Where’s Ira?” I asked after she rubbed cheeks with me.
She frowned. “Your father is in the den watching The People’s Court.” She tugged on the strands of my hair. “I liked your old hair. Your old glasses, too. You don’t look like my son.”
“It was time for a change,” I said.
She sighed. “There was nothing wrong with you. You should go say hi to your father.”
“What’s for dinner?” Making no move to go to
