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

“We have to look out for the old place.”

He picked up his utility knife and his cardboard box of scraps, leaving the basket of pastries on the counter. “I will let myself out the back way so you do not have to get up.”

“I can get up fine,” I said.

“Stay warm, Martha,” he said, stepping out onto the stoop and pulling the door shut behind him with a soft continue reading …