Six Sisters and the Blue Ledger on Oak Street

” she said, twirling the silver feather necklace that hung over her collarbone.

“You have plenty of time, dear,” I said, setting the pot down.

I poured her cup first, holding my wrist steady to keep the watch from falling into the steam.

The mail basket by the refrigerator was spilling over with the week’s circulars, and at the very front sat a windowed continue reading …