Kept in a Drawer, Still Dancing
“We kept you in a drawer,” she said. My devoutly Catholic mother was not much for telling stories and even less for telling lies. Still, I suspected the veracity of the claim until my sister verified the details. “Oh yes. We rented a furnished apartment on the second floor. Down the hall from the dentist’s office. Above the bar. We didn’t have any furniture of our own.” Dad was customarily laid off from construction during winter, assuming his chronic alcoholism had not already left him jobless. Mom returned to her waitress job to support our family of seven when I
