Six Pairs of Thick Gray Socks Saved My White House on Elm Street

” Brenda said, her fingers twitching against her coat sleeve. “The deadline is tomorrow morning, and I can drop it in the blue box on my way home.”

“I will take care of it myself,” I said.

Brenda looked at the paper, then at my face, her lips pressing into a thin line. “You are being very difficult lately, Mother, especially when we are only trying to continue reading …