“You aren’t wearing your tuxedo? We had it specially made, seems a pity to—”
“Mom, it’s a semi-formal dance.” Steve had told his mother this, several times, but she wasn’t listening…as usual. “This suit, which was also made for me, will work just fine.”
Steve checked himself in the mirror on his closet door. Was he broader in the shoulders since he’d last put on this dark-blue suit?
“I suppose, but you should always look smart at these things. You’re representing the family.”
“Yes, Mom.” There was little point in arguing with her when she was on a roll. “I think I look pretty smart in this, don’t you?”
She ran a hand across his shoulder. “Yes, dear, of course. But maybe you need a new business suit. This jacket might be a bit on the small side. Your tux probably fits better.”
Steve
