“Did I ever tell you the one about the skeleton key?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands.

“Yes, Papa,” I said.

If Grandma was the giving, earnest matriarch of the family, Papa was the storyteller. His job as a private investigator amassed him many a tale, starring everything from cheating spouses to ghosts. He cheerfully, heartily embellished until the line was blurred: in true Big Fish style, we sometimes wondered which of his fantastical anecdotes was rooted in reality.
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