“You look beautiful.”
“You’re legally required to say that.”
“I’m your mother. I’m legally required to mean it.”
Outside, my older brother Ben honked twice.
Mom leaned toward the window.
“You look beautiful.”
“Benjamin! Calm down!”
“That’s his warning shot,” I said, grabbing my bag.
Ben had agreed to drive us.
When Walter came outside, even Ben stopped talking.
Walter wore a navy suit, polished shoes, and a pale blue tie.
Ben looked at me.
“That’s his warning shot.”
“He’s dressed better than I am.”
“That’s not difficult.”
Walter opened the back door.
“I heard that.”
Ben smiled.
“Good. I’m Ben.”
“Walter.”
“He’s dressed better than I am.”
I climbed in beside him.
“You look great.”
Walter adjusted his cuff.
“The staff had opinions.”
“Apparently good ones.”
