“What are you doing with that?”
He glanced down.
“I want to wear it to graduation.”
For a second, I thought I had misunderstood.
“You want to what?”
He unfolded the dress.
I recognized it instantly.
I had helped choose it.
Mary had insisted on red.
Aaron ran his fingers across the fabric.
“I’m wearing it.”
I pulled out the chair across from him.
“No.”
“Mom.”
“No, Aaron.”
His expression didn’t change.
I lowered my voice.
“Do you understand what people will do?”
“Yes.”
“They’ll laugh.”
“I know.”
“They’ll take pictures.”
“I know.”
“They’ll post them online.”
“I know.”
I leaned toward him.
“They’ll eat you alive.”
Aaron met my eyes.
“I know, Mom.”
Then he said,
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
His face softened, but he didn’t fold the dress away.
“Aaron, please. You’ve already been through enough.”
