handsome in his black tux with the pleated formal
shirt.
I reached for Jory's hand, squeezed it. "You're
looking just as handsome as Bart," I whispered. "Mom, have you given him a compliment? He
looks great, really great, the very man his father must
have been."
Blushing, I felt ashamed. "No, I haven't said a
word because he seems so devilishly pleased with
himself that I think he'd burst with any praise he
might hear from me."
"Mom, you're wrong. Go on, say to him what
you say to me. You may think I need it more, but I
think he does."
Standing, I strode over to where Bart was peering out onto the drive, which curved gradually downward. "Can't see a single headlight," he gruffly complained. "It's not snowing now. The roads have been cleared. Ours is sprinkled over with gravel;
where the hell are they?"
"I've never seen you look more handsome than
you do tonight, Bart."
He turned to stare into my eyes, then he glanced
at Jory. "More handsome than Jory?"
"Equally as handsome."
Scowling, he turned back to the window. Out
there he saw something to take his mind off of
himself. "Hey--look, here they come!"
I watched the string of headlights in the
distance, heading up the hill. "Get ready, everybody,"
called Bart, giving Trevor an excited gesture to be
ready to swing wide the doors.
Chris strolled beside Jory's chair, which he
guided expertly, as I caught hold of Bart's arm and
went to form a receiving line. Trevor hurried up to