Chapter Twenty-Six Friday, December 31
For the third time, I yank the tie from around my collar with a muted curse, staring at the thing like it’s a noose.
After a few long exhales, I find my calm place and try to tie the damn thing again. I go slowly this time, stupidly hoping the Bax in the funeral home’s men’s room mirror will do the job for me.
I glance at Dad’s reflection, standing just behind me in a pristine black suit that matches my own. His face conveys wry amusement as I struggle to get this five-foot length of cotton-polyester blend to cooperate.
“Want some help?” he asks. The softness of his tone suggests he’s making an effort to not aggravate me further.
“I got it.” This turns out to be a lie when my fourth attempt to make a simple Windsor knot fails spectacularly.
“Com
