A half hour later the doorbell rang and I went to answer it. It was, as I expected, my mother. She hugged me and kissed my cheek, looking concerned when she saw how I appeared. I hadn’t slept in weeks and I looked it. Dark circles surrounding bloodshot eyes stared back out of the bathroom mirror when I went to shave in the morning. I hadn’t washed my hair for days and I felt like hell. I had managed to keep the living room from looking like a pigsty by eating of the kitchen counter and piling the dishes in the sink. She took my hand and led me to the sofa so we could sit down and talk. I started to tell her about Gino and was suddenly overcome with emotion. Tears ran down my face as I told her how bad his health had become in the last two weeks.
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