““Guess what,” she says. “What?” She doesn’t answer right away. It’s like she’s trying to figure out if she should drag the surprise out any longer. “Who is your favorite chef on TV?” I give her a curious look. “Chef Smiley?” She rushes over, takes my hands, and pulls me out of my chair. She’s dressed up in a suit and her long brown hair is pulled back in a bun. She must have had meetings today at work. “Yes! We’re going to see him. Tonight! He’s in Portland this week. The radio station is hosti...ng a class for radio listeners, and I just won two tickets!” My mouth drops open. “Mom, are you kidding?” “No,” she says, holding up her hand like she’s being sworn into court. “I swear it’s true. We need to get ready right now so we can leave in thirty minutes. It’ll be rush hour soon, and we’ll have to stop for dinner on the way too. So get ready and I’ll see you downstairs.” She starts to leave, but I call out, “Mom. Wait! My bandmates are coming over tonight.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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