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

legs down to the tops of my sturdy black shoes.

“We only want to make sure you do not have to struggle,” Brenda said, her eyes tracking the movement of my ankles as I shifted on the sofa. “The winter here in Canton is hard on the bones.”

“I am not struggling,” I said.

“We saw the way you were limping last week, Martha,” Greg said, pausing between his continue reading …