They had found the best suit they could afford at the formal rental place off Route 9. Uncle Ray had pressed his own shirt three times the day before, even though he was not the one attending. Aunt June had fussed over the boutonniere until the proportions were correct. They had treated the whole occasion as a family event, which was exactly what it was.
When Charlotte opened her front door in a pale blue dress, Tyler’s prepared sentences evaporated.
“You look really good,” she said.
“You do too,” he managed, which was nowhere near the truth but was all the words available to him.
From the truck, Uncle Ray grinned. “
The boy still has words! That’s something.”
Charlotte laughed and put her hand in his. It stayed there all the way into the gym while people who recognized her stared openly — some with confusion, some with the specific expression that jealousy manufactures when it’s trying to look like something else.
