He's wearing a T-shirt, while big on Carole is snug on him. The sweatpants are short. You look good, Mr. Dickson. There's some cookies in the cupboard behind you. The three woman can't hold back any more.
Laughter fills the room.
I never grew up wanting to be a writer. I was twenty-eight with two babies before I realized what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. With no formal writing education other than high school English classes and a love for reading, I set out to tell my stories. From a weekly Erma-Bombeckish newspaper column, to magazines, then to books and screenplays, I've found my niche. Heartfelt stories about real people.