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The biggest problem facing the Kryptonian right now was Gwen Stacy's high school prom.
By the time Henry had regained control over his own life, he was already well past school age. He had never considered filling in the gap in his formal education.
Having lived two lives, Henry believed that the idea of "degrees being useless" held true under certain circumstances. In some cases, an impressive diploma was merely a way of proving to others that you were a qualified wage slave. With the abilities of a Kryptonian as his foundation, Henry would have to be out of his mind to return to the workplace and spend his days flattering his superiors.
Since he didn't need a piece of paper to prove himself, Henry had never even considered going back to school, much less imagined that he would one day have the opportunity to attend a prom.
So although he claimed not to care and had been warned not to dress like Marilyn Manson, the man still carefully groomed himself before heading out.
"Kate, I'm going to pick up Gwen for her prom. Dinner is already prepared and it's in the refrigerator. When you want to eat, just have BB heat it up."
Since he had spent some time getting ready and also needed to retrieve the car, Henry was in a hurry to leave. He failed to notice the old lady staring blankly after him, unable to get a word in.
Even Skye, who was sitting on the living-room sofa reading and using Katie as a footrest just like the old lady, heard the voice and was about to make a few sarcastic remarks. But after seeing the person himself, she fell silent.
"Kate, who was that guy who just left?"
"There isn't another man in my house, is there?" Catherine Hepburn finally came to her senses and sighed. "Poor Gwen. She's so young, and she's already encountered someone far too dazzling. It's going to ruin her taste in men."
Skye was confused. "What do you mean, Kate?"
Like an elderly grandmother doting on her granddaughter, Catherine Hepburn gently stroked Skye's head.
"You'll understand when you're older."
Catherine Hepburn saw the situation more clearly than anyone.
For reasons she couldn't quite explain, Henry didn't treat Skye as his adoptive daughter, nor did he have any improper intentions toward her.
It was more as though he was simply putting up with this period of time. Once the girl became an adult, the two of them would go their separate ways and become strangers.
That was why Henry showed absolutely no mercy with his teasing and criticism in daily life. Whenever he found a sore spot, he would mercilessly poke at it.
He didn't get physical, didn't dump his own negative emotions onto Skye, and didn't deliberately pick fights with her. Those were about the only things Henry was doing right.
Without the old lady keeping the two of them in check, their relationship probably wouldn't have lasted until Skye reached adulthood.
If an ordinary child were placed in such circumstances, it might well result in another case of childhood trauma. But for Skye, who had experienced far worse conditions and was currently going through adolescence, this kind of treatment might instead provoke a rebellious response.
When that happened, they might not become enemies. They could end up in a relationship even more troublesome than that of enemies.
Catherine might not live long enough to see that day...
What a pity!
The ninety-five-year-old old lady suddenly found herself filled with renewed motivation to keep living. She couldn't possibly miss the ending to this drama. Even if Satan himself came to drag her into Hell, he wouldn't be able to take her away!
Meanwhile, Henry didn't take the nearly forty-year-old Cadillac out.
Instead, he drove another car to the apartment building in Queens.
As a single-income working-class family, the Stacys owned their own apartment in Queens. The mortgage had already been paid off, and with only one child, they should have been living quite comfortably.
After all, working as a police officer in New York City already offered a starting salary above the North American average, along with excellent benefits. George Stacy was a veteran police officer who had risen all the way to police commissioner. Now that he was chief, his salary and benefits should have been quite substantial.
But!
There was always a but.
George Stacy was generous in helping police families who had fallen into financial difficulties for one reason or another. A considerable portion of his good reputation came from his willingness to open his wallet and help others.
So although Gwen's life had never been lacking in necessities, neither had she lived like a little princess surrounded by luxury and fine clothes.
Part of the reason was that there was no mother around to properly take care of her. A father could fulfill that role, but there were inevitably things he wouldn't handle as well.
Fortunately, Gwen had also done her part. Besides keeping herself out of trouble, she had performed exceptionally well academically, saving her aging father George a great deal of worry.
But the ban on boyfriends was also nearing its expiration date. The old father, who wasn't quite ready to let his daughter enter the next stage of her life, was feeling increasingly uneasy.
The prom was the first hurdle.
When the doorbell rang, George Stacy restrained the urge to answer the door with his gun in hand and opened the front door.
Standing outside was an unfamiliar man wearing a navy-blue suit.
"Hi, George. You're home too. Is Gwen ready?"
"Who are you?"
The police commissioner had been planning to grab the man's tie and drag him into a room for interrogation, but for some reason, the voice sounded strangely familiar.
"Me? Henry. We just met a few days ago. I came to ask you about the police fund."
"Henry!"
George Stacy's expression instantly became one of shock. His eyes widened as he stared at the man before him, completely unable to connect him with the bearded man from three days earlier.
"Henry, you're here. Hmm, who are you?"
Gwen appeared from behind George, wearing a burgundy evening dress and fastening an earring. The moment she saw Henry, she froze.
Henry handed her a rose he had crafted by hand from metal.
"You didn't tell George that I'm the one accompanying you to the prom, did you?"
The stunned girl accepted the rose, but she barely noticed the iron-gray flower. Her attention was entirely fixed on the man in front of her.
"No, I did tell him, but..."
The man in the suit had deliberately taken great care with his appearance.
He couldn't shave his beard, so he had plucked the hairs out one by one instead. The entire bundle of hair was now sitting at home.
He hadn't changed his hairstyle much, merely applying some pomade. He combed the front into a classic formal style, while the longer hair at the back was tied together at the ends so it wouldn't become loose and unruly.
His navy-blue suit was based on an old Givenchy men's design. Henry had cut and sewn it himself according to his own measurements, making it a truly handmade bespoke suit.
Finding someone else to make it would have taken too long, so Henry had simply bought the fabric and made it himself. The fit around the waist and the overall length were both perfectly proportioned.
The watch on his wrist was no longer the cartoon-themed digital watch he usually wore. Instead, he had replaced it with a simple silver metal watch. It wasn't a designer luxury watch, but at least it didn't look shabby on his wrist.
Although he hadn't altered the shape of his face, as the saying went, clothes made the man.
Dressed in this outfit and wearing the kind of makeup commonly used on Hollywood men, Henry looked quite the gentleman.
Once she realized that the man standing before her really was the person she had invited, quick-witted Gwen suddenly thought of a very important question.
"Wait! What car did you drive here?"
Father and daughter followed Henry downstairs and out through the main entrance.
The moment they saw the stretched Mercedes-Benz vintage convertible, a specially commissioned model, both of them were so astonished that they couldn't say a word.
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