They Made Me Sleep in the Garage for Christmas Until the Truth Came Out

were teenagers, sympathy worn over satisfaction the way a coat covers armor. “Catherine, maybe you should ask Mr. Townsend about openings in the mail room. At least it’s a real company.”

The laughter around the table came right on cue, the family chorus that had learned its part so well it didn’t need a conductor anymore. Mr. Townsend, tonight’s honored continue reading …