She lived in Springfield—the capital of Illinois—where I was born and raised. I picked up my cell phone and went to the living room, then dialed ...er number. It rang two times before she answered. ‘Hello?’ her voice came. Just from that one word, she hardly sounded sleepy or groggy, she’d been up for a while. She had the thickest Illinoisan accent of all. It was nasally like a Brooklyn accent, but one could definitely hear the ‘E’ sound before most of her vowels. ‘Hi, Mom,’ I said, ecstatic. I had begun to wonder where things are to go now, is my mother angry with me, are we going to be awkward with each other now; these are the thoughts and worries that began to build up. I would say last night was a mistake but a mistake would have not been so satisfying. I got dressed and quietly went down to the kitchen like any other day to see my mother already there sitting drinking her morning coffee. She was wearing a white blouse and tight blue jeans, she looked up at me with beautiful. More

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