"My family knew that my father had been tapping the phone lines."

IT WAS PAST CURFEW. My friend cut his headlights and dropped me off in my driveway. From the little peaked window atop the garage, yellow light filtered.

Someone was in the attic.

I walked up the pebble path that bordered the house, opened the side door, and stepped into the garage.

It was hot. It was dark. The ladder to the attic was folded down, and from the ceiling-access square a faint light glowed. I heard my mother's voice. I took a step closer to catch what she was saying.

"Mom?" I said.

I heard a click. She stopped talking.

"Beth Anne?" my dad said from above.

"Dad? What are you doing?" "I'll be in in a little bit." I walked into the house and down the hallway and peeked into my parents' room. My mother was asleep on her side of the bed.

A FEW YEARS LATER, when I was away at college, I learned that my father had been tapping the phone lines. more$