My Brother Thought I Was Delivering to the Country Club

told him.”

“He guessed.”

Dad finally faced me. Older than two years ago. More neck. Less certainty around the eyes.

“I made mistakes.”

There it was. Not I was wrong. Not I’m sorry. A managerial phrase. Something you’d put in a memo before layoffs.

I waited.

He said, “The house is overleveraged.”

Ugly word. True word.

“I can fix it, if I have six months. But continue reading …