"You a soldier?" she asked, gabbing my shirt and tugging.I nodded, lifted my arms and she stripped it from me."No boots?" she said. "Lets get them bri...ches off."I unbuttoned, raised up and she pulled, one leg and then the other. She wrung out the clothes on the stone hearth and then hung them beside the fire. The other girl fetched me a worn blanket, and I wrapped it around my shoulders and let it flop in my lap. I shivered and felt awful, waterlogged and half-frozen. I looked down at my right. But those boiled hot dogs had triggered a memory so faint, I was surprised I could recall it. I must have been 6 or 7 when my mother took me to visit a cousin of hers.Even that young, I understood the house was small, dreary, shabby. Her cousin had served us boiled hot dogs, the first time I’d ever had one. A slice of white bread wrapped around it. On the ride home, Mom turned to me, strapped in the back and said, “Claire gave us what she could afford. What she knew how to do.”Daddy, behind the. More

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