But beneath all of the teasing, they were inseparable.
Then Mary got sick.
Everything changed faster than any of us were ready for.
Graduation plans became hospital appointments.
College conversations turned into medication schedules.
The dress Mary had once been so excited about stayed hanging inside a garment bag.
And then we lost her.
Afterward, Aaron stopped talking about graduation.
He stopped talking about almost everything.
His father, Dean, dealt with the loss differently.
He became angry.
At doctors.
At me.
At himself.
At the entire world.
Eventually, even Aaron became a target for that anger.
So when Aaron told us what he planned to wear, Dean reacted exactly as I feared.
"Absolutely not."
Aaron stood in the living room holding the dress against his chest.
"It's my graduation."
"Then dress like you're graduating."
"I am."
Dean stared at him.
"What are you trying to prove?"
"Nothing."
"Then don't turn the ceremony into a spectacle."
Aaron's face tightened.
"This isn't about you."
Dean stood.
"And it shouldn't be about your sister either."
I saw Aaron recoil.
Dean must have seen it, too, but he did not take the words back.
He pointed at the dress.
