My Father Smirked and Told the Wedding Guests

then at me, then down at his coffee as if it had betrayed him.

General Foster walked the envelope to my table and placed it in front of me with both hands.

“Congratulations, Major.”

“Thank you, sir.”

My fingers touched the paper. Warm from his hand.

Across the ballroom my cousin Brent, the filing-cabinet comedian, had gone pale enough to match the buttercream continue reading …