Chapter 49

He went to her funeral with his parents. He struggled to fit into a pair of corduroys and dress shirt. His mom, Lori, wanted him to wear a tie. It was his father Henry’s brown striped checkered that he’d bought at a thrift store in the center of town. Christian looked like a geek. “It is too long,” he’d told his father. “I look silly”

“Stop griping,” Henry said, tugging and folding the ends of the fabric to make it look presentable on young Christian.

“You’re growing into a handsome young man,” Henry said, winking. His smile was as wide as a clown’s that morning. It reminded Christian of Aunt Betty’s ear-to-ear grin. She was always in a good mood, always smiling, telling him how much she loved him, and brushing her ring-encrusted fingers through the cowlick in the center of Christian’s head. She called him Little Rascal.