“Yes, I do. I’m so happy you’re finally taking a step into the twenty-first century, at least clothing-wise.”
Anderson was a clothes horse, believe it or not. He’d been bugging me for years to do something about my wardrobe. What could I say? I grew up with my granddad, God rest his soul, and I emulated the way he’d dressed. He’d been a cool guy, though stern, but he’d taken me in when there’d been no one else.
“Fine, I’ll go. But don’t get too excited, okay? I might veto everything.”
“And I won’t let you,” he retorted.
He returned to the living room with a beer and a sandwich, and we spent the next couple of hours watching shows until it was time for him to meet his date. He showered and dressed, then grabbed his keys and motorcycle helmet before heading for the door.
“It’s ten o’clock at night!” I exclaimed as I watched him leave.
“That’s when things start hopping, baby. Later.” He blew me a kiss and shut the door behind him.