The Letter in My Purse
He had knotted the tie himself.
I noticed the tie, and the short sleeves, and the careful knot, and I understood without his saying it what they meant.
My son had dressed himself that evening the way a man dresses for something he has decided to face.
He had chosen the good suit and done the tie by himself and come down to stand at the foot of the stairs, and none of it was about the party.
It was about me.
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