Grandfather Won One Hundred Dollars for Naming a Blue Can

diner was quiet at eight, the regular dinner rush long gone.

Evelyn sat in the corner booth with her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her chin held high.

I sat across from her and ordered a cup of black coffee from the waitress, though I knew I would not drink it.

“Robert has a mug from Oakridge Development on his desk, Evelyn,” I said.

“He is trying continue reading …