I pulled a wadded-up pair of L.L.Bean khakis out of the small t-shirt drawer on Jeff's side of the closet. There was a balled handkerchief in the pocket, and a braided belt still in the loops.
"Aha..." I said. So this is where last night's outfit, worn to the neighbors' 50th anniversary party, ended up. Two days ago I had pulled more wadded trousers out of Jeff's sock drawer. Today I got tired of the blue Eddie Bauer flannel-lined broadcloth shirt which has served as his default overshirt for roughly 2 weeks. "Wear this chambray," I said, handing him something suitably lighter for the changing weather. He put on his clean clothes. When he met me outside for a dog-walk, 15 minutes later, he'd added the other ubiquitous flannel-lined shirt--the army green one. It must mysteriously disappear into the laundry of no-return, I noted to myself. At least until Fall.
Later today, I did driving practice with Gabe. Our first in roughly a year and a half. Gabe drives like someone who has never driven before, and I fear it will continue to be so well into his paid sessions with the professional instructor, which start next week during his Spring break. We both maintained our decent humors, more or less, as we traversed (more of less) the byways of several neighborhoods near ours, misgauging turn radii and becoming friendly with hedges. It remains clear that I haven't the temperament to teach him myself, any more than he has the temperament to tolerate me as co-pilot. He says he finds the professional guys less annoying. I hope that under their tutelage he'll progress faster, and that they'll feel no need to scold me for our lack of practice since '08.
Now it's time for me to dig out Jeff's dress-up clothes, hoping I didn't fail to note their last location. With luck, I caught his suit before it hit the floor last time (whenever that was,) and I will not find it smashed into a wrinkled rag in a drawer full of pencils and loose change. Tonight we will attend a fundraising dinner event for the Community Center down the street, and it will be an excellent time to catch up with my sister, whom I never see, as she is usually either teaching school or ferrying small children to scouting events, while I am helping some people put their underwear on properly, and encouraging others to remove 15 dirty glasses from the computer desk, or not drive into stop signs. As a help, there will be several useful hands in our group, to take turns towing Jeff back into position when he gets stuck behind chairs or stares relentlessly at someone who does not wish to converse with him.
But there will be food, and there will be wine, and I will be happy.
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