DeDe practically vibrated with excitement at the thought of upstaging Gloria. Her competitive, chaotic spirit was fully ignited.
"Oh, heavens! Then I must make sure my outfit is absolutely perfect!" DeDe gasped, her energy completely shifting from flirty grandmother to a woman on a fashion mission.
"All the women are starting to dress now. I brought three different spiritual tunics, and I don't know which one resonates best with the venue's aura! I must go find Claire! She has terrible taste, but she can hold the mirror for me!"
Without another word, she shoved the black garment bag into my hands, spun around, and practically skipped down the hallway toward the stairs with the energetic bounce of a teenager.
"See you downstairs, my handsome boy!" she called out, disappearing around the corner.
I let out a massive, heavy sigh of relief, leaning my forehead against the wooden door. Crisis averted. The Final Boss has been successfully distracted.
As I stood up straight and prepared to open my door, the sound of hurried, heavy footsteps came rushing up the stairs. A second later, Claire rounded the corner, looking slightly out of breath and incredibly stressed. She was already wearing her makeup, though she was still in her fluffy white bathrobe.
"Luke!" Claire called out in a hushed, worried whisper. She power-walked down the hallway and stopped in front of me, her eyes darting to the black garment bag in my hands. "Did she give it to you? Is the suit okay? She literally ambushed the delivery man on the front porch and insisted on bringing it up to you to check your 'spiritual reaction' to the fabric!"
I looked down at the garment bag and nodded reassuringly. "Yeah, Mom. The suit is fine. She just handed it over."
Claire pressed a hand to her chest, letting out a long sigh of relief. "Thank God. Okay. Haley finally got home, so the girls and I are going to take over the master bedroom and bathroom to get ready. It's going to be a complete madhouse in there."
She rubbed her temples, looking toward the staircase with a look of pure, unadulterated exhaustion. "And now, I have to go downstairs and somehow wake up your father, your Uncle Mitchell, and your Uncle Cam. They are still snoring on the couches like a pile of exhausted sea lions, and the reservation is in exactly two hours."
Seeing the heavy stress weighing down my mother's shoulders, my Webnovel MC protective instincts kicked in. I chuckled softly, offering her a warm, relaxed smile.
"Hey," I said gently, shifting the garment bag to one hand and placing my free hand on her shoulder. "If you need any help waking up the snoring man-children, or handling Grandma, or carrying anything to the car... do not hesitate to ask me, okay? I've got your back tonight."
Claire froze. She looked up at my face, her eyes softening completely. The frantic, stressed-out suburban mom exterior melted away, replaced by a deep, overwhelming wave of maternal affection. Hearing her middle, formerly wildly irresponsible son suddenly offering to shoulder her burdens and protect her peace was the greatest gift she could ever receive.
She reached up and lovingly cupped my cheek, her thumb gently brushing against my skin. Her eyes actually looked a little misty for a fraction of a second.
"You are such a good boy, Luke," Claire whispered softly, a genuinely touched, emotional smile on her lips. "Thank you, sweetie. I really appreciate that. But it's okay. Haley is already complaining that her dress makes her look 'too corporate,' so I have to go manage that crisis. And yelling at your father to wake up is my usual habit anyway. It's practically my pre-dinner warm-up routine to get the blood flowing."
She gave my cheek one last affectionate pat. "Now, go get dressed. Make sure your hair is combed, and don't forget to put on deodorant! I want us all in the living room in forty-five minutes!"
"Yes, Ma'am," I saluted lazily.
Claire hurried off down the hall toward her bedroom, and I finally turned the brass knob, stepping into the quiet sanctuary of the 'Luke Cave'.
I locked the door behind me and laid the black garment bag flat across my mattress. I unzipped it carefully, peeling back the plastic.
Inside was a pristine, meticulously tailored, charcoal-gray suit. It came with a crisp, pure white dress shirt and a sleek, dark blue silk tie. The fabric felt incredibly soft and expensive, completely devoid of any wrinkles.
As I dropped my towel and started pulling on the trousers, a sudden thought crossed my mind.
Wait a minute, I thought, buttoning the waist of the pants. Where did Mom—or Grandma—get my exact, updated size so fast?
As I pulled the trousers up, they fit flawlessly. The hem fell perfectly to the top of my dress shoes, and the waist wasn't pinching my stomach. It was like it had been custom-tailored to my new, physique just hours ago.
Maybe it was a highly expensive, rush-ordered gift from Grandpa Jay, I mused, picking up the white shirt. Or maybe Grandma DeDe actually did use a crystal pendulum over my laundry basket to divine my exact measurements. Honestly, in this family, both options are equally plausible.
I slipped my arms into the crisp white dress shirt. The cotton was breathable and high-quality, resting perfectly against my chest. I buttoned it up to my neck, flipped the collar up.
Finally, I picked up the charcoal-gray blazer. I slid my arms through the silk-lined sleeves, adjusting the lapels and pulling the cuffs of the white shirt down so exactly half an inch of white fabric peeked out past the suit jacket.
I took a step back and looked at myself in the full-length mirror attached to my closet door.
I paused.
The person staring back at me wasn't the goofy, curly-haired, easily distracted middle schooler from the TV show.
The cold shower had tamed my messy blond hair, leaving it swept neatly to the side. The charcoal-gray suit hugged my new, broader shoulders perfectly, tapering down to a clean, athletic waist. My posture was completely straight, projecting an aura of calm, unshakeable confidence.
The transformation was absolute. The 'Goofy Kid' was gone. Standing in the mirror was the classic, quintessential 'Young Master' from a high-tier Webnovel.
"Alright, Grandpa Jay," I whispered to my reflection. "Let's go see this rehearsal dinner. I'm ready."