Instead of jewelry or something thoughtful, I found myself staring at a frilly floral apron folded neatly on top of what appeared to be a dated ankle-length dress.
I blinked, certain I was missing something.
“It’s your house uniform,” Derek announced with undisguised pride. “My mom wore one every day.
It makes things feel more orderly.”
I ran my fingers over the cotton apron and eyed the black dress warily. Was “house uniform” another word for Puritan dress? All it was missing was a broad collar and a bonnet.
“You’re serious?” I asked, my voice carefully flat.
Derek doubled down with a wink.
“Totally. No pressure, though — it’s just tradition. Helps keep the homemaker mindset, y’know?”
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