![]() ![]() Her curly white hair was cut short and her grin was genuine. As usual, she was dressed in bright, garish colors held together with elastic and Velcro. She let go and stepped back to clasp my hands. “Don’t you know it?” she agreed with a wide grin. Even though my mother was usually home or at the family record shop, at least once a week I invented an excuse to join the other kids at Edie’s. Growing up in Cedar River, Texas, all the latchkey kids found their way to Miss Edie’s after school. “Miss Edie!” I exclaimed, folding myself into the shorter woman’s embrace. “Juni! It’s been too long.” An older Black woman shuffled toward me, arms outstretched for a hug. And as a bonus, at the family record shop I get to work with my two older sisters. ![]() The worst part is I can’t ever quit, not unless I want to hear about it every single Thanksgiving for the rest of my life-although I would put up with a whole lot for a plateful of Uncle Calvin’s deep-fried turkey. ![]() The best part about working for the family business is that they can’t fire me without causing all sorts of unwanted drama. ![]()
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