It was his most traditional outfit. Old school. He normally reserved that suit for his rare appearances in federal court.On Sunday morning, he donned the suit and slipped on a pair of black loafers. He’d once owned a pair of wingtips, but they were so uncomfortable that he’d tossed them two weeks after purchasing them. He preferred the loafer look—casual enough for the beach, dressy enough for a lawyer. His hair was still fairly short from when he had buzzed it a few weeks ago, and he was beginning to like the clean and streamlined look.He couldn’t find the thin black belt he had worn to court on Friday, but he found a thick one that barely fit through the belt loops and looked a little funny because the buckle was too big. Oh well. He could button his suit coat in church, and no one would notice. As a final concession to the importance of the occasion, Alex had even slipped on a pair of black dress socks. Many Sundays he would go without socks, and the old folks would tease him about it.
