Behind the Venue, My Husband Handed Me a Scrapbook Pulled From the Dumpster

no performance in it. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“I think,” came a voice from the edge of the crowd, “you’re managing that quite well on your own.”

Barbara’s sister Carol stepped forward. She was a few years younger, with the same cheekbones but softer eyes, and she had always been the person in this family who said the accurate thing when everyone continue reading …