That was the moment the doorbell rang, and Linda sat up with her thinking matched by her son’s immediate reaction.“That’ll be, Paul,” he said,...jumping from his seat and hurrying to the side of the house, from where he called loudly. “Round this way, Paul.”Getting to her feet, Linda could not believe the heaving in her chest, as she smoothed down her dress. When the tall young man appeared around the corner, so handsome in dark green sports shirt and light green pants, Linda found that whatever. Angela was a foreigner at one time.That was a long time ago, when she lived out in Brooklyn in a God-awful artist studio that was really a converted warehouse with no hot water. It forced her to take showers at work in the real city like some homeless tramp without any future. It was a humbling experience and one that she did her best to shove behind a brick wall in the corner of her devious brain.She was late the morning that the announcement was made about the signing of the world-famous. More

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