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

what did you tell her?” I asked.

“I told her that my medical files belong to you, Martha,” he said. “I told her she would have to ask her mother for permission.”

I took a deep breath of the cold, clean air. “She will not ask me,” I said. “She knows the answer.”

“I suspected as much,” he said. He slipped the pen back into his breast pocket and adjusted continue reading …