I sat in the wing back chair. I let myself sink into it. The upholstery had an odd coffee and cream polka dot pattern that I had always hated. I looke... at it, felt the wood beneath the arms and the carving in the legs. It was an ugly thing. As ugly as anything upholstered ever could be and yet it was mine, bought with money I brought home. Unintentionally, I said "I'm taking this ugly damn thing with me, it's mine." I was brought to my senses by the sudden rumble of the garage door. I started. Emma crouched down and slowly approached him. He didn’t try to flee; just kept shaking where he was.Emma picked him up gingerly and brought him to her bosom. She wrapped her arms tightly around him.He looked to Brent; perhaps for permission. Brent was smiling, so that was good enough. Turning back to Emma, he licked her chin.“Who’s a good boy? Bruiser, Bruiser’s a good boy!” Emma said in her best baby-talk voice. “Does Daddy have a blanket of Bruiser’s he can get me?” she said. The question was. More

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