My Parents Sold My Corvette While I Was in Tokyo

Worth maybe eleven thousand on a good day.”

Dad sat down on the arm of the couch. Missed it by two inches, caught himself on the end table. Nobody laughed.

“You told a collector in Indiana he was buying a numbers-matching ’69 Stingray,” James said. His voice was flat. Almost bored. That’s how James gets when he’s furious. Quieter. “And you charged him continue reading …