Melania decided she would order the flowers herself. Donald was too busy now anyway to call Alessandra’s as usual and ask for “something amazing.” Once, in the early years, before she fully understood him, she had asked what his favorite flowers were.
Today because I am sufficiently connected here in my book-glutted home in Boston I have decided to make my little room an everywhere. As it so happens, I am hovering now above an area of greater London known as Mitcham that four-hundred years ago was an outlying village backwater away from the teeming intrigue and bustle of King James’ city and his court.
My mother and I smoked cigarettes, drank wine, ate, walked around, went to galleries, museums, and movies; shopped, all the while covering a tireless range of subjects, as we always have. Minus the wine and cigarettes, my days with her were a lot like my childhood.