Still, I knew how much it meant to her.
Viki spent hours every week doing oil treatments and brushing it gently.
She slept on silk pillowcases, avoided harsh chemicals, and refused to use a blow-dryer.
“It’s taken me my whole life to grow it this long,” she once told me. “I’m not ruining it with heat.”
Tony often teased her.
“If zombies ever attack, Aunt Viki, they’ll grab your hair first.”
She would toss it over her shoulder.
“Then I’ll distract them while you run.”
She adored him.
She remembered his favorite candy, asked about his classes, and always knew when he had an exam.
When Tony started working both jobs, she noticed immediately.
“You’re looking tired,” she told him one Sunday.
“I’m okay.”
“You’ve lost weight.”
“I’ve just been busy.”
After he went upstairs, she turned to me.
“Is everything okay?”
“We’re managing.”
“Kris.”
I sighed. “It’s prom.”
Understanding crossed her face.
“He wants to buy a decent suit,” I continued. “He deserves one, but we can’t do it.”
Viki reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
“You’ll figure something out.”
I wanted to believe her.
Instead, I cried after she left.
The deadline moved closer.
Three weeks became two, then ten days.
Tony kept counting his savings, but the amount was never enough.
Finally, he stopped talking about the suit.
One Friday evening, Evan brought Uncle Ben’s old charcoal coat into Tony’s room.
“I think this might fit.”
Tony tried it on.
The shoulders were too wide, and the sleeves covered his hands.
The coat swallowed him.
Tony forced a smile. “It’ll work.”
Evan stared at him in the mirror.
“No,” he whispered. “It won’t.”
Tony carefully took it off.
“I appreciate it, Dad. This will do.”
That was the worst part.
He never blamed us.
His kindness only made the guilt heavier.
The next afternoon, I was folding laundry while Evan repaired a loose cabinet hinge.
Tony was at work.
Around four o’clock, the front door opened.
“In here,” Viki called.
She walked into the living room carrying a velvet garment bag.
A soft knitted beanie was pulled low over her head, even though the weather was warm.
“Aren’t you hot wearing that?” I asked.
She smiled faintly. “I’ll survive. Hopefully.”
Something about her seemed different.
“What have you got there?” Evan asked.
“For Tony.”
She rested the bag against the sofa.
“Tell him to come in here when he gets home.”
An hour later, Tony walked through the door, looking exhausted after his shift.
Viki handed him the bag.
“I think this belongs to you.”
He slowly unzipped it.
