Growing up bookended between an older brother who was the proverbial golden child and a younger brother who sat back and watched the world go past, I’d learned early my best option was to go my own way.
For five years I’d been the youngest brother. For the next five years I’d been the middle brother. And then, when I was ten, I became the second oldest when our sister Portia was born. She came as a surprise, since we’d all been expecting another brother—Sebrings ran to boys.
That was probably why we all loved her without reserve and would put our lives on the line for her.
In the years between our sister’s birth and her leaving home to attend college, the world marched on.
Tony, our oldest brother, joined the Navy to fight in World War II and wound up in intelligence in the Pacific The
