Damon walked into the room, his white shirt now on but unbuttoned at the top. He checked his watch. “What are you staring at?”
“Jake,” I said. “He wants to make sure we are on our way.”
“He is always checking up on us,” Damon said, walking toward the bathroom. “Tell him we will get there when we get there.”
I typed, “We are getting ready now. Can’t wait to see you.”
I went into our bedroom and closed the door. The house was quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the heater in the hallway.
I reached into the back of the closet, past the dark wool coats and the sensible winter skirts, and pulled out the box from Evelyn’s Dress Shop. The tissue paper made a loud rustling sound in the quiet room.
I took out the emerald dress and held it against myself. It felt light, almost weightless, compared to the heavy cottons I usually wore.
