My Father Said I Was An Accident At A Family Barbecue Until I Responded

I said. “Now it’s Mom’s turn.”

Jake Whitmore, Carol’s son, had been eating quietly on the picnic bench the entire afternoon. He was twenty-five and six feet tall in work boots and he stood up now and positioned himself between Rex and me without theatrics. His hands were at his sides.

“Uncle Rex,” he said. “Let her finish.”

Rex stared at him like furniture continue reading …