she wants everyone to dress fancy

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When I was growing up, I always knew I wanted to have children, even from a young age. I remember having my whole future mapped out as early as eight years old.

My plan was as follows: I'd meet and fall for a handsome, hard-working, successful man. We'd get married and have two children, a boy first and then a girl.

We'd settle down in a big house on the edge of a small town, just under an hour outside of a larger city, and he would go to work every day while I stayed home with our children, watching them grow into beautiful human beings who I could be so incredibly proud of.

As a family, we'd be there for each other through the good times and the bad. My husband would be my protector, my provider, my best friend and my soulmate, my companion to grow old with.

This plan or dream of my future was simply perfect, but I now know that life doesn't always turn out the way you would like it to.

My dream life started off well, though. I actually met my handsome man, an animal loving, weightlifting, marathon running, successful environmental lawyer, with the cooking skills of a chef, and the heart of a saint. We dated for only four month befor we both knew each other was the one and we got married.

We bought a house on the outskirts of a town of fewer than 7,000 residents and had our first child together, a boy we named Leonard. Life was great and I couldn't have been any happier.

All this happened before my 26th birthday, but by my 30th, my world had crumbled around me. My handsome man had cheated on me with a beautiful 25-year-old blonde that had just started at the firm and quickly become his workout partner at the gym. About three months into the affair, I found out and confronted him. His reaction was to walk out on us and file for divorce.

Leo had very few memories of his father, having been only five when his dad left us. I found this incredibly sad and so I tried my best to compensate.

We made the best of the situation, and while it was a struggle at times, at least his dad was doing well and even though he wanted nothing to do with his son, never saw him, he was consistent with the child support. This allowed me to be able to give my son most everything he wanted and needed growing up.

Being just the two of us, we enjoyed a strong bond; we looked out for each other and had a lot of fun along the way. Leonard was a good boy, a little shy perhaps, but he wasn't short of friends.

He loved to read and write, and was also quite artistic too. He loved sports, but watching rather than playing, and often he would disappear into his room for hours to listen to his music and create drawings on his computer using the sketch pad input device and 3D modeling software I had bought him for Christmas one year.

By the summer of my 40th birthday, Leo was 15.

He was very social and never short of an offer to spend time with a friend. Despite this, he still made time for me too, even if it was just an hour or so each day when we shared an evening meal together.

During the meal, he would tell me all about his day, and I would tell him all about mine, I loved our time together immensely.

It was during one of these evening meals, a Friday evening to be precise, that our story begins.

I had cooked his favorite meal, extra-crispy, double battered buttermilk fried chicken with homemade mashed potatoes and gravy, beer batter fried green tomatoes and made from scratch biscuits with garlic butter.

As usual, he finished every last mouthful, told me all about his day in school and made a point of letting me know that he didn't really have any plans for the weekend.

Then, as I was serving his favorite dessert; warm peach cobbler and vanilla bean ice-cream, he made an unexpected announcement. One he had clearly been building up to throughout the meal.

"I've been invited to a party next weekend if I can go. Abbie from school, it's her birthday."

"Which one's Abbie? Have I met her before?" I replied as I wasn't entirely sure who she was.

"You met her once . . . I think. Her parents own the Spitfire Bar and Grill at Fashion Town Mall, Capt Jack's Seafood Shack in Colorado Springs, New Harvest Diner on the square and two more restaurants up in Denver. She lives in that really large house on Hastings Avenu---"

"Oh yes, I know the house. I didn't know you were friends with her?"

"I am, kinda. I mean, no, we've never hung out, outside of school or anything, but we are lab partners in Science class. We talk a lot in that class and I think we've gotten to know each other pretty well. She's a really nice girl, friendly, caring. Anyways, she's inviting me and some other people from school, so I'd really like to go."

I thought back to when I was Leo's age. Being invited to the popular girl's birthday party was a big deal, especially for a boy. I understood this, so I had no intention of standing in his way.

"Of course you can go. Did you say next weekend?"

"Yeah, it's next Saturday. It's a costume party, too."

"A costume party, for her birthday?"

Surprised, I looked up from my dessert and across the table towards my son.

"Yeah, a costume party. You know, everyone goes dressed as something or someone. She wants everyone to dress fancy, no cheap store bought costumes . . . "

I laughed.

"Yes, I know what a costume party is!"

"Yeah, but she wants it to be fancy, like you might see a bunch of rich folks go to at a country club. Where they are dressed in fancy clothes and have an eye mask on a stick."

"You mean a masquerade party?"

"Yeah, that's the word she used, masquerade party."

I then asked the obvious question, "So you need me to rent you a tux, or just a really nice suit?"

Leo got very quiet and started to blush ever so slightly. He delayed answering for a few seconds, choosing instead to finish his last spoonful of ice cream and then take an extra long sip of his Root Beer.

"Well?" Curious, I tried to hurry his response along.

When it finally came, I couldn't believe it. Never in a million years would I ever have thought this would be what he chose.

"I want to wear a ball gown."

Leo's answer had taken me by surprise, but it didn't bother me. Rather I more thought it a cute choice. I was curious though, as to why he chose this.

I wanted to ask him, but I also didn't want to embarrass him, as he had obviously struggled a little to tell me in the first place.

So, after taking an extra-long sip of my glass of wine, I calmly responded, "Oh, okay. That sounds like fun."

I smiled politely, before standing up from the dinner table and headed into the kitchen with the dirty dishes.

I'm sure my reaction hadn't been the one he had expected as he had probably spent a lot of time expecting me to object, find it weird, or even laugh.

He quietly left the table and went up to his bedroom where he closed the door and put on his music, he remained there for the rest of the evening.

We didn't speak of it again until the next day.

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