Chapter 1: The Boy in the Red Dress
My late son's best friend turned up at his funeral in a dress — my husband was already on his feet to walk him out, but then the boy stepped up to the microphone and told us something about our own son we never knew.
My son's best friend read the eulogy at his funeral in a red dress.
I've known Theo since he was seven.
He lives four houses down.
He's slept in our spare room more times than I could count and he was at our table three Christmases in a row when things were bad at his house.
And when Jack got sick, Theo was there every single day.
We found out late.
Too late, as it turned out, and the treatment never caught up with it.
Fourteen months.
Theo sat on that bedroom floor through all of it.
He did homework there.
He fell asleep there.
There were weeks he saw my son more than I did.
So when he walked in like that, I didn't understand.
I thought maybe they'd fallen out and nobody had told me.
I actually turned to the boys seated near me and started asking — did something happen?
did they argue?
is this about something?
Nobody knew.
They were all just staring at him.
And I'll be honest.
Part of me thought he'd done it on purpose.
To be looked at.
At my son's funeral.
I didn't know what to do.
Whether to have somebody take him outside or just sit there and get through it.
We were already in pieces.
And then this…
My husband stood up.
Didn't say a word, just stood, and I grabbed his sleeve because I knew exactly where it was going.
That's when Theo walked up to the podium.
He stood there a long time without saying anything.
People were whispering behind me.
Then he looked out at the room.
"I know half of you want me out of here right now."
He stopped.
He had to.
Then he glanced down at the dress.
"And I know how this looks.
It isn't even mine — I borrowed it from my sister.
The reason I'm standing here in it is very simple.
May you like
And it's the saddest thing I know."
He reached out and pulled the microphone closer.
