25
Jack came into my bedroom without knocking, while I was standing in my underwear, trying to figure out what to wear. I didn't have many nice clothes. The one dress I wore at my social debut was on the bed, next to the blouse and creased trousers I used for job interviews.
One was too festive; the other, too formal. And the rest of my clothes were too practical.
"If you're thinking what to wear," he said from behind, as I stared at the bed, "I like what you're wearing right now."
"Hey," I said, turning to face him, and sliding my hands around his neck. "How did it go? I thought it would take longer."
I always thought an occasion like this would involve alcohol. A lot of drinking.
But then, Grandpa shouldn't drink, so maybe that's for the better.
"It went well," Jack said. Then, ti
