Just Plain Al: the Al Series, book Five
“Like a salami sandwich. It cost five bucks. I didn’t want to like it, but even before I tried it on, I did. Then when I actually put it on and turned in front of my mother’s full-length mirror, I tried not to smile. It was perfect. Oh, my basic stick figure was there, all right, lurking under the folds of striped taffeta, but still, I looked pretty neat. The dress did things for me.
My mother sat back on her heels, surveying the pinnedup hem.
“I must say I outdid myself,” she said smugly.
“It’s... still too long,” I said.
“Absolutely perfect. You’re all set.”
“How about shoes? And panty hose?”
“Shoes? Panty hose?” my mother repeated as if I’d spoken in Arabic.
“Well,” I told her, “my dress was practically free, after all, and you don’t expect me to go to the Rainbow Room in sneakers, do you? And I can’t very well go barefoot, either. So what do you suggest?”
“Don’t get snippy,” my mother warned me.
Al rang her special ring. I let her in. “How do you like it?”MoreLess
My mother sat back on her heels, surveying the pinnedup hem.
“I must say I outdid myself,” she said smugly.
“It’s... still too long,” I said.
“Absolutely perfect. You’re all set.”
“How about shoes? And panty hose?”
“Shoes? Panty hose?” my mother repeated as if I’d spoken in Arabic.
“Well,” I told her, “my dress was practically free, after all, and you don’t expect me to go to the Rainbow Room in sneakers, do you? And I can’t very well go barefoot, either. So what do you suggest?”
“Don’t get snippy,” my mother warned me.
Al rang her special ring. I let her in. “How do you like it?”MoreLess
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