Eighteen
INSTEAD OF MAKING COFFEE, Helen and I tell Mom we’re going into Bellamy for lunch. We have a lot to discuss.
I’m in my room changing clothes when Helen calls, “Tom, I need you in the bedroom, now!”
I freeze for a minute, then shoot out of my room like a bullet out of a gun.
Fortunately, I have my pants on.
But I forgot my shirt.
I fling open the door to find Helen standing at the open closet, holding an emerald-green cocktail dress.
When I abruptly enter the room, she jumps a little. When she sees me, her eyes widen and she sucks in a breath. “Ah, did . . . did you forget something, Tom?”
I look down. “I’ll go pull a shirt on,” I say, turning to leave.
“No, no, no need to do that.” She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I found this in your sister’s closet.”
I
