Larry
As it turns out, I'm only a reckless fool in front of Tiffany. No matter how hard I try, it's normal. Stupid. Improbable. And yet, the moment she looks at me with those blue eyes, I come undone.
In the dizzying lights of the ballroom, Tiffany finds my eyes in a sea of quiet heads and waves slightly, like she isn't certain it's me. She lets my son wrap his tiny fingers around her hands and together they glide toward me in the light.
"You took a while with the phone call," she says as Larry lets her go.
I get on one knee and rustle my son's hair with my hands. He tries to pull away, laughing because he probably loves this so much, but I don't let him.
"You are messing with my hair, daddy!" he cries out, no longer amused.
I stop and get up and look Tiffany over. She tries to smile at me. It stays, the smile so pure and honest it makes me suddenly want to kiss her.
"You look beautiful," I tell her.