Where did you get that ring

blonde hair in the same smooth, expensive style she had worn since her first job at the bank. Her earrings were pearls. Her nails were pale pink. Her face showed no guilt, only impatience.

“We talked about this,” she said.

“No,” I said. “You talked. I listened.”

From the driver’s seat, my oldest son, Robert, exhaled loudly. “Mom, don’t start.”

My youngest,continue reading …