I Came Home From Overseas Expecting to See My 1969 Corvette Waiting

in the chair across from my mother, looking at the grain of the table.

“How much,” I said.

My father answered. “Enough.”

“That’s not a number.”

He met my eyes then, steady, almost daring me to react. “Seventy-eight.”

Seventy-eight thousand dollars. I had paid eighty-two for it after a full restoration, numbers-matching 427, original interior, documented continue reading …