Dad was shaking hands with Mr. Grimmus at the front door. He was a big red-faced man with long wavy white hair and a bushy white mustache. He wore a tight-fitting brown suit and a vest that barely covered his big belly. He had a black string tie around the collar of his white shirt, and he wore high-heeled black cowboy boots. Dad was wearing his best suit, which was also his only suit. Mom is always after him to buy more dress-up clothes. But Dad always argues, “I don't need dress-up clothes to go to the wrestling matches.” That's about the only time Dad takes Mom out. When the wrestling matches come to the arena downtown. “I always fly first class,” Mr. Grimmus was telling my dad. He patted his big belly. “I don't like to be fenced in.” Dad laughed really loud, as if Mr. Grimmus had just told a terrific joke. Then Dad saw Colin and me on the stairway. “Mr. Grimmus, here are my two sons, Colin and Max,” he said. Mr. Grimmus shook hands with Colin. He squeezed Colin's hand so hard, I heard my brother's ears pop.
