Four Hours at a Christmas Gas Station
On Christmas Eve, the whole family was heading to the family estate in the Catskill Mountains for the annual Christmas dinner.
My younger brother, Angelo, was throwing a tantrum over a hot dog, so Mom sent my older sister, Bianca, and me into the gas station convenience store to get him one—anything to keep him quiet.
But when I walked out with the scalding coffee, I was just in time to see our custom, bulletproof Cadillac Escalade glide onto the highway entrance ramp.
The blizzard swallowed everything, the air sharp as a blade.
And I, Cora Caruso, the daughter of Don Rocco Caruso, the most insignificant asset in my parents' vast empire, was left behind.
I chased after the taillights, the heat of the spilling coffee on my hand going completely unnoticed. My screams were torn to shreds by the wind. "Papa! Mamma!"
But that black steel beast, carrying my entire world, merged into the interstate traffic without a hint of hesitation and vanished at the end of the snow-swept horizon.