5:45 to Suburbia

There were two Charlie Gibsons

One rode the 5:45 to Westport and was met at the station by his charming wife who dressed in impeccable tweeds and mixed a wicked martini. He also had a long-legged, lovely daughter whom he admired. He was second in command of a vast publishing house and, what’s more, he got there without being a hatchet man. Everybody had respect for him; almost everybody liked him.
That was one side of Charlie Gibson.
The unhappy side.

One spent every spare minute in the apartme...