by Dorothy Spears
(from the Fall/Winter 2016 issue)
Labor Day weekend at the Brown family beach house was a time-honored tradition, so it only made sense that George would make the long trip up from Washington. He had called Vance’s office on the off-chance that we could meet his train, but neither Vance nor I could get off work early, so he was not with us that Saturday when we bumped into the dirt driveway of the Brown’s old cedar-shingled Victorian on Shore Road. Vance parked our Toyota in a weedy spot between a fleet of rusting Buicks; Judy only bought American, when she did buy, about once every twenty years.