My Father Tossed a Blue Savings Passbook into the Mud at Cedar Ridge
My father adjusted his left shirt cuff, pulling the crisp white cotton perfectly straight past his expensive jacket sleeve.
“I own this house, sweetie,” Gregory said.
“I don’t need permission to take an early lunch.”
He stepped into the kitchen.
His eyes moved to the open pantry doors, then down to the wooden stool, and finally stopped on my canvas bag.
“You should stop digging into things you don’t understand, sweetie,” he said.
“I just came to get a few of her embroidered cloth napkins.
Is that a problem?
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Everyone laughed when they sent an eighty-year-old man and his eighteen-year-old wife off to spend their wedding night together. “Let’s see if Grandpa can make it until morning,” one relative joked through a burst of laughter. He didn’t respond. He simply picked up his old briefcase and closed the door. When six relatives opened it the next morning, they stopped laughing when they discovered what he had been protecting all night.
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