“Get us the owner right now,” Dad yelled at the country club; “She doesn’t belong here,” Mom added, “Remove her immediately”; I stood quietly; the manager smiled
“We sold your empty house,” Mom declared at Christmas; “You never use it.” Dad counted the cash smugly; I sipped my coffee; State Department security arrived: “Unauthorized sale of diplomatic residence…” “Alexis.” Dad’s voice boomed from the living room. “Come in here. We have news.” I returned with the wine, passed it to Mom, and sat down. Dad, Thomas Peton… Continue reading “Get us the owner right now,” Dad yelled at the country club; “She doesn’t belong here,” Mom added, “Remove her immediately”; I stood quietly; the manager smiled