"What? Oh. Yes, Mommy. I just love this dress."
I took it out of the closet and lay it on the bed. Then I took out my shoes.
"Well," Mommy said, "I'd better get downstairs and work on dinner for your father, Cary, and May. Call me when you're all ready," she said. "I can't wait to see you. Oh, and I want you to wear my necklace tonight," she said.
I started to shake my head. Mommy's necklace was her only really expensive piece of jewelry. Even her wedding ring was not that expensive, because Daddy thought it was a waste of money to buy something elaborate when a mere silver band would serve the same purpose.
"I can't, Mommy."
"Sure you can, honey. When do I get a chance to wear it? I want you to wear it for me, okay?"
I nodded hesitantly.
"Come along, May," she signed, "and help me with dinner tonight. Laura has too much to do."
"Oh, I can help, Mommy."
"No you can't, honey. I told you, I never went to a school dance, but I wanted to very much. Tonight," she said with a deep sigh, "you're going for me, too."
"Oh Mommy, thank you," I said. She held out her arms and I hugged her back.
I felt tears prickling under my lids and quickly kissed her cheek and turned away to take a deep breath. After she and May had left, I sat at my vanity table and began to paint my fingernails. I started to daydream, imagining what it was going to be like to be dancing in Robert's arms, floating under the balloons and the lights, feeling him holding me close, occasionally brushing his lips over my hair.
A deep creak in the ceiling pulled me from my reverie and reminded me of the peephole in my ceiling. I gazed up at it and then I got up and went into the bathroom. I was angry, but then I began to feel sorry for Cary. I knew I was shutting him out of a part in my life, a part he could never enter again, yet he had to understand that I was growing up and the things that once amused me, amused us, were no longer enough. He'll soon realize it, I convinced myself. He has to. In the meantime, I didn't want to do anything else to break his heart.
My thoughts returned to the dance. I was so excited, I had to lie down and rest before I got dressed. I know I dozed for nearly an hour before my eyes snapped open and I sat up, frightened I had slept too long. I was only asleep for twenty minutes, but still I hurried to put on my dress. Then I put on a little more lipstick than ever before and perfected my hair before taking a deep breath and gazing at myself in the mirror.
Was I really pretty, as pretty as Mommy claimed? Robert thought I was and, of course, Cary did, too, but I never felt like the girl Mommy had described. I never thought all the boys were looking my way or that I had even turned a single head. I wasn't ugly, I decided, but I was no raving, movieactress beauty. I had to keep my feet on the ground and not let my ego swell like so many other girls I knew at school.
Everyone was just finishing dinner when I went downstairs. Mommy slapped her hands together and cried out as soon as I entered the dining room. Daddy sat back, nodding, and May was smiling from ear to ear. Cary wore a strange, dark look.
"You're beautiful, honey. Just beautiful. Isn't she, Jacob?" Mommy said.
"Vanity is a sin, Sara. She looks fine, but there's no reason to blow her so full of steam she explodes," Daddy chastised. However, he wore a very proud expression as well.
"Now you just wait right there," Mommy said, and she hurried out of the dining room.
"How do I look, Cary?" I asked him. I couldn't stand the fact that he wouldn't look my way.
"Fine," he said quickly and dropped his gaze to his plate. "I might have thought you'd be going to the dance, too," Daddy told him.
"It's stupid," Cary muttered.
"How's that?"
"I'm not interested in any old dance," he snapped. Daddy's eyebrows lifted.
"Well, it's a well-chaperoned affair, isn't it? Teachers are there, right?"
"What's that matter, Dad?" Cary said with a smirk. "Teachers are in school, too, but kids smoke in the bathrooms and do other things."
"What other things?"
"Other things," Cary said, realizing he was digging himself a hole he might not easily climb out of. He looked to me, but I said nothing. "Dumb things kids do."
"Laura's a good girl," Daddy said, looking at me. "She wouldn't do anything to embarrass this family."
Cary smirked and looked away.
"Of course I won't, Daddy," I said, my eyes fixed on Cary. Mommy returned, her necklace in hand.
"I wanted her to wear this tonight, Jacob," she said, looking to him for his approval. He nodded slightly and she put it on me, fastening it and then running her fingers over the garnets and sparkling diamond. "Doesn't it look nice on her?"
"Be careful with that," Daddy warned.
"I will. Thank you, Mommy."
We heard the doorbell.
"That'll be Robert," I said.
"Oh, she should have a shawl, don't you think, Jacob?" "Sure. It's getting pretty nippy these nights," Daddy said. Mommy went to the closet to get hers for me and I went to the door to let Robert in.
He looked terribly handsome in his jacket and tie, He was carrying a small box in his hands.
"It's a corsage," he declared.
"Oh, that's very thoughtful," Mommy said. Robert signed a hello to May, who beamed beside me. Then he opened the box and took out the corsage of red roses, my favorite. They matched the garnets perfectly.
"You'll have to pin it on," I told him. He looked at Mommy helplessly for a moment and then tried, but his fingers were clumsy with his nervousness.
"I'll do it," Mommy said, coming to our rescue. Robert smiled with relief and stepped back to watch her pin it on me.
"There, that's very pretty," Mommy said.
"Thank you, Mommy."
"We should get moving," Robert said. "Don't want to miss the opening dance."
"Have a wonderful time," Mommy said. Daddy came up behind her and looked at Robert.
"You look fine, boy," he said. "Now
remember," he added with a scowl, "I want her home before midnight."
"Yes, sir," Robert said.
I looked for Cary, but he hadn't come out of the dining room.
"Good night, Cary," I called. There was no response. I flashed a weak smile at Mommy, who nodded, her face full of light, her eyes brighter than ever, and then Robert and I stepped out into the night.
He opened the car door for me and I got in. He hurried around and got behind the wheel.
"Well, I guess I have the prettiest date at the dance tonight," he said and turned to me. "Laura, you look more beautiful than I ever dreamed."
"Thank you, Robert. You're very handsome yourself." "I guess we'll knock 'em dead then," he predicted and started the engine.
As we backed out, I looked toward the front door, half expecting to see Cary, but he wasn't anywhere to be seen.
2
I Could Have Danced
All Night
.
"Oh, Robert," I said the moment we walked
into the school gymnasium and saw how wonderfully the dance committee had decorated, "I wish Cary had come. He wouldn't be down on the dance if he saw what they've done to this place. It looks like a real ballroom!"
"I don't think that's really what kept him from coming, Laura," Robert said softly. He smiled sympathetically, his eyes soft and gentle. I nodded, knowing he was right.
There was a makeshift stage directly in front of us for the four-piece band. They were already playing, and the floor was crowded with dancers. Above us, ribbons of crepe paper crisscrossed around mounds of multicolored balloons with long tails of tinsel. At the far right, there were long tables with red, green, and blue paper tablecloths set up for the food, and to the left and down the sides of the gymnasium, there were tables with the same color paper tablecloths and chairs. A large poster on the left wall read:
WELCOME TO THE ANNUAL SPRING FESTIVAL. Everyone was dressed up, some of the girls in dresses so formal and expensive-looking, I
was sure Mommy would feel what she had made for me was inadequate, even though I thought my dress was just perfect. However, I was happy now that I had agreed to wear Mommy's necklace. Many of the girls wore earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and rings on most of their fingers. It looked like a contest to see who could be the most overdressed.
"Well," Robert said after we put my shawl on a chair and set my purse aside, "why don't we join the fun?"
He led me onto the dance floor and we began dancing. As we moved across the crowded floor, I felt as if everyone's eyes were on us. When I let my gaze shift from Robert's, I saw some of the girls in my class gathered in a small pack, watching us with twisted smiles on their faces. I felt a tightness in my stomach.
The music was loud and fast. I hoped I didn't look foolish, but Robert seemed pleased. He was a very good dancer and I started to imitate some of his movements with my arms and hips. As long as I concentrated on him, fixed my eyes on his, I felt secure and comfortable. He had such an air of confidence about him. There was enough for me to share.
When there was a pause between songs, we stopped, embraced each other, and laughed. He turned me toward the punch bowl, waving to some of the boys he knew and they waved back, giving Robert the thumbs-up sign to indicate they approved.
"We're going to have fun tonight," he promised, his eyes full of excitement. "We're going to dance until our feet beg for mercy."
"Did I do all right out there?" I asked. "Are you kidding? If they have a dance contest, we're entering," he said.
"Robert Royce, we are not." Just the thought of such a thing took my breath away.
We drank some punch and ate some chips with cheese dip. Marsha Winslow and the class president, Adam Jackson, joined us. Marsha was in charge of the party. She was a tall, attractive girl who spoke with a slightly nasal tone, as if she were looking down her nose at the rest of the world. She carried a clipboard.
"Excuse me," she said, "but we don't have any record of your paying for your tickets."
"What? Of course you do. I gave the money to Betty Hargate," Robert said.
"Betty has you down, but not Laura," she replied.
"That's ridiculous."
"Are you calling Marsha ridiculous?" Adam asked. "You know, she doesn't get paid for doing all this work that makes it possible for everyone else to enjoy themselves. She's just doing her job."
"I'm not calling her ridiculous. I'm just saying . . . where is Betty? There she is." Robert pointed. "Let's call her over," he suggested.
"Good idea," Adam said, and he waved at Betty, who was standing with Lorraine Rudolph. The two hurried over.
"What's up?" Betty demanded impatiently, her hand on her hip. It was as if she had been asked to wallow with the undesirables.
"Robert Royce claims," Marsha said, rolling her eyes, "that he paid for Laura, too, but that's not indicated on the sheet I have."
"I gave you the money in the cafeteria last Tuesday," Robert insisted. "Remember?"
"Whatever is written on the paper is what I received," Betty said in a singsong, smug voice. "I don't have to steal party ticket money."
"I didn't say you stole it," Robert cried, growing increasingly frustrated.
"I only have one ticket marked of after your name," Marsha repeated. "That means you paid for only one ticket."
"I can't believe this," Robert said.
"Are you sure you just didn't think you paid for Laura? Maybe you weren't sure she was going with you last Tuesday," Lorraine quipped, a tight smile on her lips. She shifted her eyes to Adam and back to Robert.
"Of course, I'm sure. I paid," Robert
maintained. "All the money checks out," Marsha said.
"That means we don't have more money than tickets issued," Adam added.
"I know what it means," Robert said.
"Do you have the tickets, Robert?" I whispered. He thought a moment and then nodded with a confident smile, pulling them out of the inside of his sports jacket.
"If I didn't pay for them, how did I get them?" he asked Marsha, thrusting the tickets in front of her face.
She gazed at the tickets and then looked at her clipboard again.
"I don't understand," she said.
"Maybe Betty gave him two tickets and he promised to give her the money for the second one later," Adam suggested.
"Yes," Betty said quickly. "That's it."
"No, it's not and you know it," Robert insisted.
"Betty's too responsible to give out tickets and not collect the money for them," I suggested calmly. Everyone paused and gazed at me a moment. "Someone just made a simple mistake."
"Well . . ." Marsha glanced at Adam.
"I don't think Robert would steal a dance ticket, do you?" I followed.
"I hope not," Betty blurted.
"We'll straighten it out later," Marsha said. "Right now, we're all wasting time when we should be having fun."
"Exactly," Adam said, taking her arm. "To the dance floor, Madam Chairman."
The others laughed and then left with them.
"That was a pretty stupid bit of meanness," Robert said, easing after them.
"Maybe it was just an honest mistake, Robert."
He continued to glare in their direction, just daring one of them to look back at us.
"Somehow, I doubt it," he said. "Those kind don't make honest mistakes."
"Let's not let them ruin our night, Robert," I said, touching his hand. He relaxed, smiled at me, and nodded.
"Right. Shall we?" he asked, taking the punch glass from my hand and putting it on one of the tables.
We returned to the dance floor. It didn't take us long to get lost in the music and each other. We soon forgot about the ticket incident and danced until I declared my feet were really begging for mercy. Robert laughed and suggested it was time we had something to eat anyway.
"I guess we've worked up an appetite."
We got in line and filled our plates. Some of the girls in my English class complimented me on my dancing, and girls who had come together without dates gathered around Robert, commenting on his dancing ability too.
Theresa Patterson was there with some of her Brava friends. They kept to themselves, but Theresa gave me a bright, friendly smile when I waved.
As I looked over the endless plates of food I had to give the devils their due: Betty and Marsha had planned a wonderful party. There were steamed clams, of course, and all sorts of chicken dishes, including Southern fried, bowls of tricolor pasta, salads, plates of fruit, loaves of Portuguese bread, rolls, and a table of desserts that would surely be the first to be picked clean.
When we were satisfied we'd taken a bit of everything to sample, Robert and I sat with some of his friends and their dates. Everyone was so excited, they all talked at once. I really was having the time of my life, and when Robert leaned over to give me a small, quick kiss on the cheek, I blushed and told him how much fun I was having.
"I'm so glad," he said. "I was worried when Cary was so negative about the dance. I thought he might--"
"Might what?"
"Talk you out of coming," Robert confessed.
"He could never do that. We may be twins, but I still have a mind of my own, Robert."
"That's good," he said, smiling.
"You should know that by now, and if you don't, you will soon," I promised. Even I was surprised at how seductively it came out. His eyes widened with his smile. I turned away quickly, afraid I would become so crimson, everyone at the table would notice.
After we ate, the music got slower and the lights grew dim. I liked this kind of dancing more because I could rest my head against Robert's shoulder and feel his arms around me. We swayed to the rhythm, neither of us wanting to spoil the moment by talking. Occasionally, I felt his lips on my forehead and hair. My heart pounded so hard, I was sure he could feel it against his chest.
"I'm so glad you came to the dance with me, Laura," he whispered.
"Me too," I said.
"Maybe
. . . we can leave a little earlier and just take a ride along the shore. It's a beautiful night," he said.
"I'd like that, Robert."
We moved through the shadows and light. I was dazzled by the glow of the round lanterns, and for a while, it was as if Robert and I were the only ones at the dance. Everyone else just faded away.
That is until I heard Janet Parker's sharp, cold laugh right behind us and turned to see her standing with Adam Jackson, Marsha, Betty, and Lorraine. Brad Laughton and Grant Simpson had joined them as well. Why weren't they dancing? I wondered. Did they come here just to watch and make fun of others? They kept looking our way and laughing.
"What's with them now?" Robert muttered.
"I don't care," I said, but he couldn't stop gazing at them, his eyes filling more and more with fury.
"It's got something to do with us," he said sharply and stopped dancing.
"Robert, forget about them."
"I'd like to know what's so damn funny," he said, taking my hand and crossing the dance floor toward them. They parted, expecting we would walk in between them, but Robert paused.
"Why don't you let us in on your little joke," he said sharply.
"Excuse me?" Adam said with his self-satisfied smirk. "You want to hear a little joke?"
They all laughed.
"What is it with you people?" Robert pursued. I tried to tug his hand, but he was determined to have his say. "Are you trying to ruin our good time? I feel sorry for you if that's all you have to keep you occupied."
"Are you kidding me?" Adam said, surprised that anyone would dare question his actions.
"Well?"
"We just wondered why Laura's brother didn't come to the dance. Couldn't he afford a ticket?" Lorraine asked.
"Robert could have bought him one the same way he bought Laura's," Adam suggested.
"That's not funny," Robert said, stepping toward him. Adam took a step back and held up his hands,
"Hey, take it easy. You wanted to hear a little joke, didn't you?"
"That's not-a-joke. You're a joke," Robert shot back.
"Whoa, buddy," Brad said. Robert's glare put him back a step, too. They all looked so shallow and cowardly to me, despite their expensive clothing and jewels.