Keep Sweet

Uncle Timothy opened his office door, apologized for being late, huffed a bit with his girth, and ran his hand through thinning hair. He'd had a call at home, he said, placing his cellphone on the big oak desk with its dark stain and clawed feet. His apartment was an attached unit, but separate from his house. Elizabeth thought of how nice it would be to have a second home of one's own, away from the ocean of family. Uncle Timothy's chair creaked when he sat. Elizabeth looked at her lap.

"L...