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My Dad Bragged At Christmas Dinner That They Sold My Arlington House For Millions

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Manhattan penthouse on the day after Christmas.

My mother appeared at seven, still in her silk robe, the diamond studs already in. She moved to the refrigerator and called for the housekeeper about orange juice with the focused energy of someone whose morning irritability is a reliable weather system.

My father appeared at the marble island at seven-thirty,continue reading …

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