Fashion

That morning, my daughter-in-law tossed her muddy shoes at my feet and ordered me to clean them. When I refused, my son walked in and said, “Apologize to my wife and do as she asks, or leave.”

“Clean them before we leave.” Claire dropped her mud-smeared heels onto the kitchen floor and nudged them toward me with the pointed toe of her slipper. She did not look at my face. It was shortly after eight on a cold October morning, the kind Boston gets when fall stops looking beautiful and starts feeling

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