It’s just a tiny speck of a town that nobody seems to notice unless you had the misfortune of being born there. My parents named me Mary Margaret. I... seems like every little girl was named Mary Something — Mary Elizabeth, Mary Louise — it was just the way things were done back then. I always went by my middle name of Margaret, to my friends I was always Peg. My parents were the only ones who insisted on calling me by my proper name and it usually meant that I was in big trouble when I would. To get in we would have to crawl in from the bottom of the bed. The dresser was shoved against the wall and it was keeping the door open. Night stands were stacked one on top of another. There was only space to open the closet door part way. To say that it was tight was an understatement. I looked at those beds and wondered if Peggy would be okay with that. I had pictured something like a hotel room with 2 beds, but this was more like one giant bed. In a minute or two, Peggy came up and. More

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