By Saturday evening, I was standing in front of the bedroom mirror wondering why I had agreed to attend the town dance.
The annual fundraiser was held every year at the community center, and normally I found some excuse to avoid it, because crowded rooms, uncomfortable dresses, and small talk had never been high on my list of enjoyable activities.
This year was different. Emma had practically refused to accept no for an answer.
"You need to come." She'd said that afternoon.
"I've got work." I said.
"You always have work." She said.
"I could organize the garage." I said.
"On a Saturday night?" She asked.
"I could." I said.
"You won't." She said.
She'd been right. Now I stood in front of the mirror wearing a dark blue dress that fell just below my knees, and I couldn't remember the
