Home for Christmas

I’m 7 years old. We live in a white two-story house we rent on General Cobb Street in a small manufacturing city called Taunton, Massachusetts. I live with my parents, Peg and Gene, my big boxer dog, Joey, and my grandmother, Munroe, who has a bad heart. The old house has a weak heating system, and sometimes on very cold mornings, there’s a very thin skim of ice on the water in the toilet bowl. My mother works in a bank. My father tends bar in a 12-stool tavern where you can buy a shot of the bar whiskey for...

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