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

mug of lukewarm chamomile tea with a chipped rim. I recognized the mug immediately; it was part of a cheap set she had bought at a garage sale three summers ago, the paint faded to a dull sky-blue near the handle.

“I want to apologize for being so sharp with you the other day, Mother,” she said, her voice rising in that hurried rush.