I ran my fingers over the tiny stitches near the waist, imagining his big, rough hands pushing that needle through, over and over.
I didn't answer her.
I put it on and looked in the mirror.
"I'm wearing it for you, Grandpa. I'm gonna make you proud tonight. I promise."
I sent Aunt Carol a message about what I was doing. I grabbed her car keys while she was out visiting a neighbor. She'd told me the car was mine for the night.
I headed out the door before I could change my mind.
I sent Aunt Carol a message about what I was doing.
***
I walked into the ballroom alone, the blue dress brushing softly against my knees.
String lights glittered from the ceiling, and the whole place smelled of hairspray and cheap punch.
I kept my eyes on the floor and told myself I only had to make it through one song for Grandpa.
Then I heard her voice.
"Oh my God, look!"
Lorraine stood near the drink table in a shimmery champagne gown that probably cost more than our rent.
Then I heard her voice.
Her friends turned in slow motion, like a pack of birds spotting something small. They looked at my dress and started laughing.
The same girls who'd always mocked me at school because of my clothes couldn't help themselves.
"Oh, look, the local frog finally found a dress that matches her!" one commented.
Someone giggled behind a manicured hand.
Her friends turned in slow motion.
Another girl tilted her head and squinted at my seams.
"That's obviously a rag. Did you sew it in shop class?"
"Look at those stitches. It's literally homemade!"
I couldn't feel my hands.
I couldn't feel anything except the ache behind my eyes and the thought of Grandpa's fingers guiding a thread through fabric.
I couldn't feel my hands.
I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but I didn't even have the strength to argue.
So I turned around. I was going to leave.
I was going to walk back to that apartment and cry into the pillow that still smelled of my grandpa's aftershave. I was never going to tell anyone that this was how I'd said goodbye to him.
Then a hand closed gently around mine.
I was going to leave.
I looked up. Glenn.
He wore a dark navy suit and stared at me with something I couldn't quite name. Not pity. Something quieter. Sadder.
"Tina."
"Please let go," I whispered. "I just want to leave."
