Six Vintage Dresses Left in a Cedar Trunk on Oak Street

I said.

I went into the living room and touched the hem of the pink dress.

The silk was cool under my fingers, smelling faintly of the cedar trunk.

“We have to stand together,” I said.

“We are,” Peggy said, wiping her face with her apron.

“But Richard has a three-week head start on us.”

“We have the certified deed,” I said.

“That is more than a head start;continue reading …