(Re)cycler
August 19
Jill
“I hope you know what you’re doing, sweetie.”
“Don’t worry, Mom,” I say. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”
Mom doesn’t believe me. And the fact that I can’t stop nervously tugging on the ends of my wig doesn’t help my case.
Mom and I are wandering through the luggage section at JCPenney because I have broken her best suitcase. Turns out you can’t fit the entire contents of a bedroom into it. Live and learn, right?
“And when do you plan on telling us where you’re going?” she asks. “Or are you going to leave us in the dark for good?”
“I’ll tell you, Mom, just as soon as I figure it out.” At the end of the aisle is a huge red Samsonite. I finger the lock on it. “I have two good options.”
Mom snorts. She hates both of my options and never tires of reminding me how “unworkable” they both are. She thinks I should stay in Winterhead forever. Trust me when I tell you, that is not an option.
I point to an even bigger blue Samsonite. &# ...
read full excerpt from: Recycler ebook
