“Left,” I said. “No. Your left. Up a little. Down. Okay. There.”
He stepped back.
Ezoic
We both looked at it.
Ezoic
“Your grandmother would complain it’s crooked,” Dad said.
I tilted my head.
“It is crooked.”
“I knew you’d say that.”
We adjusted it together. He held one side, and I held the other, and we nudged it a quarter inch at a time until it was perfectly straight.
Then he went into the kitchen to make coffee, the way he always does after a job is finished.
And I stood in front of the mirror alone.
I looked at my reflection for a long time.
Clear glass. No waves. No water. Just me.
I thought about Grandma Lena standing behind me in that little farmhouse bedroom. You’re pulling too hard, Nicky. Gentle. Your hair didn’t do anything to you.
I went upstairs and got my hairbrush.
