You are warned against drinking and dating older men, especially those dark-eyed ones from New Jersey. Upon meeting Frank for the first time, your Virginia gentlewoman of a mother calls him swarthy. Being the son of Italian immigrants is not a crime, you cry, reminding her that The Godfather is just a movie. The second…
She wasn’t sure about these people, clutching copies of their latest writings, ready to be pilloried by perfect strangers around a public library conference room table. “Are you new?” asked an overly friendly librarian. “I’m new,” she decided. It still wasn’t too late to turn around and leave as the stench of uncomfortably conspicuous introverts…
As the relentless Saturday dawn poured through the bedroom’s faux wood blinds, the peroxide blonde gave one last heave then awkwardly dismounted. Wordlessly, she gathered up her things and strode naked into the bathroom, apparently used to the routine. Tom Mosley lay very still. There were sounds of a toilet flushing, a faucet running, and…
As usual, my father stalked into the room, quickly scanning assorted relatives for the most suitable person with whom to trouble himself. Taking inventory of the stock and trade in the claustrophobic meeting room at Winston’s Funeral Home & Crematory, I felt his slate eyes gloss over me, registering nothing on his end but vague…
When Mom died ten years ago, dad practically did too, even though the death certificate would list his official passing with today’s date. There are couples and then there are soulmates; mom and dad were the latter. They didn’t need to finish each other’s sentences because they could converse without speaking. Theirs was a love…