Ford nodded, though he was only half-hearing her. His ears were buzzing. You could just tell her to use the tan suit, he thought. You're giving up enough. But she'd said the tan suit was more work, and she was already doing them a favor, with the suit and Miss Farley's dress and everything she was doing for the rest of the family. And he actually wore the tan suit, at least during the summer months. He liked the way it was cut and the way it fit him, and it was the first big thing he'd done for himself since he'd taken over as head of the household. So either one was a sacrifice, just of a different sort.

The white suit was just sitting in his closet. At the end of the day, it was less of a sacrifice, really. He wasn't going to have another occasion to wear it again. And it wasn't as though anyone besides him would know; Tycho wasn't coming to the wedding.

Maybe this was for the best. Keeping it in his closet probably wasn't a good idea anymore. It was bright enough to draw the eye. Would he tell Miss Farley the story of where he'd gotten it, if she saw it and asked? Would he be able to get through it without arousing her suspicions? He'd never been a very good liar, and she knew something most people didn't: she knew he hadn't done anything with her in the coatroom.

He stepped forward and brushed his fingers over the sleeve of the white suit. His throat felt tight. Ty wasn't going to be at the wedding. It was just sitting in his closet. It was the obvious answer.

"We can use this one," he decided.

---