Lark felt hand snaking around her middle and hugging her from behind and she shot a startled look over her shoulder.
“You’re supposed to be in the chair.”
“Nurse told me to get up and walk around a bit.” Max’s voice was warm in her ear. “Chère, rumor has it the Hoffman family are drunk.” He chuckled as she stumbled against his frame.
“I am, we are,” she snorted. “Mom got tired of refilling one flask, so she got me my own,” she tapped the pocket of her dress. “The best thing about this dress is the deep pockets.”
“The best thing about the dress is the woman wearing it,” Max kissed her temple. “Why are you drinking? Is today so hard? How can I help?”
“Nana Prue had a bunch of last wishes and one of them was for Dad to be drunk the day of her funeral and she always told me to never let a
