“You took a long time.”
Mom walked directly toward him.
“Noah, may I have the first dance?”
His eyebrows shot up.
“Mrs. Jane, this is not prom.”
I burst out laughing.
Mom turned on music anyway.
For thirty painfully awkward seconds, Noah counted steps while Mom repeatedly moved in the wrong direction.
Finally, he sighed.
“Mrs. Jane, Chrissy dances better.”
“That’s why she’s your date.”
Then Mom’s
