“This is Winnie Ferguson. I know her from Bethel. Winnie, this is my friend from college, Stanley Irving. And his girlfriend, Justine.”
We swayed beside them, and I waited for Justine to smile at me. She didn’t, though. Instead, she drawled a lazy hi before going back to pursing her lips.
Stanley, however, was a different story. He met my eyes and held them for what seemed like an eternity. It was suddenly like I wasn’t in Phillip Wilson’s arms at all. It was just me and Stanley out there on the dance floor alone. His chiseled jaw. His round, brown eyes. His kind smile.
“I know you from somewhere…” Stanley said. He grinned and cocked his head to one side.
“Did you go to Douglass too?” I asked.
“Yeah, but I don’t think that’s it.”
He kept staring at me, a fact that did not please Justine one bit. She dropped her arms from his shoulders. “Stanley!” she said before storming off the dance floor. I think Stanley was supposed to follow her. I imagine that was Justine’s plan, anyway, but Stanley didn’t play along. He just shook his head and looked to Phillip. “See what I mean?” he said. “I can’t do anything right. I was only trying to be polite.”
Phillip smirked at Stanley. “Well, most girls don’t like you lookin’ too long at another.”
I felt Phillip tighten his grip on me, like if he let me go, Stanley might scoop me up for his own. Little did Phillip know it was already too late. I had fallen head over heels for the tall, charming college boy from Union Baptist—love at first sight. I know for a fact that it’s a true phenomenon because it happened to me that night at my very first dance.
And later that night, when Stanley and I swayed to a slow song all our own, Stanley asked, “Does your family have visiting on Sundays?” His lips were close to my ear and his breath warmed my neck.
“Yes. Three to five,” I murmured.
Stanley had been coming to see me every Sunday since that day. Every Sunday except the one after his arrest.
~~OO~~
I stood at the door until five, tears springing to my eyes as the clock chimed the time. Then I trudged out back to the garden where Momma and Daddy sat on the swing.
“Where could he be?” I asked Momma. “He always comes.”
Momma looked to Daddy. Daddy sighed.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Do you know something?”
“I called him earlier when you were out talking to Melinda on the street.”
“What! On the phone?”
“Yes. And I told him I didn’t think he should come around anymore. I don’t think he’s the right young man for you, Winifred.”
“Daddy! How could you!” I wailed.
Daddy eyed me sternly. “I am trying to do what’s best for you.”
“But I love him. He wants us to get married!” I stomped my foot and folded my arms. “You had no right!”
“Do not yell at your father, young lady,” Momma said, jumping to her feet. “Now come inside with me and calm down.”
She reached to put her arm around me, but I ducked away from her and ran toward the house.
“He may talk about marriage, but I don’t see a ring on your finger!” Daddy called after me.
Daddy was so cruel. Didn’t he care at all about my feelings? I ran to my room for the second time that day and dropped to my bed. Stanley should not have listened to Daddy. He should have tried to see me anyway. Stanley had to know that I still wanted to see him, that I wouldn’t stop loving him no matter what.
Momma came in without knocking. I kept my face buried in my pillow because I couldn’t bear to see her angry with me. Momma was a sweet, kind woman most of the time, but when she was angry, just watch out.
“Winnie?” Her voice was quiet, coaxing even. I felt the bed settle and her hand on my back. She wasn’t angry after all. “Now, stop your tears. And look at me.”
I rolled to my side.
“You think one little phone call from Daddy’s gonna run off Stanley Irving?”
I sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“A boy who got himself arrested at a lunch counter because of what he believes in? You think he’s gonna listen to an over-protective father about his baby girl? No way in heaven. That Stanley’s probably down the street right now, watching the door to see if you go out for a walk so he can scoop you up in his arms and kiss you senseless.”
“Momma…” I felt my cheeks flood with heat.
“Well, I’m sure it’s true. I see the way he looks at you. Now dry those tears and go see if Melinda and Livvy want to go for a stroll.”
I examined her face. Her soft brown eyes watched me as I tried to formulate my question.
“But Daddy. What about Daddy?”
Momma smiled and took my hand. “You have to follow your heart, Winifred. Sometimes that takes courage, just like it did for Stanley to sit down at that lunch counter. But I think you know in your own heart what you need to do. You are almost a grown woman. You have to start making your own choices. Is Stanley worth it to you? Worth the consequences that may come down?”
“Yes. He is worth the whole world to me, and me to him. I just know it.”
“If you just know it, then what are you waiting for? I will tell Daddy that you are meeting me at Charlotte’s. You go find that boy and tell him how proud you are of what he did. You are proud, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I am. What he’s doing is the right thing. It’s scary but it’s right.”
“Go on, then. Clean yourself up and decide what you’re gonna do.” Momma stood up. “And come give me a hug?”
Rising from my bed, I practically threw myself in her arms. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I’ll do my best to help you, but you gotta be strong.”
“I will, Momma. I will.”
~~OO~~
I didn’t take anyone with me. Instead, I tied on my best head scarf and left the house alone. I had never been to Stanley’s house unaccompanied. We had gone to movies and lunches and dances, and even dinner once, but going to his house alone was a bold move. I would never have considered it before my talk with Momma.
I walked as fast as I could without jogging for three blocks. But when I turned the corner onto Myrtle Street, my stomach did a somersault, and I slowed down. The closer I got to number 1237, the more my feet felt like cement blocks. A few people I knew from church and school passed me, two being Bobbie Rae Simmons and Latisha Atkins. Their eyes got big when they recognized me, and after they passed, I’m sure they started the chain of gossip. They knew where I was headed—to my boyfriend’s house alone. Not the sort of thing a nice girl did back then.
When I reached the house, I sought refuge in the shade of a tree. I wasn’t ready to climb the steps and pound on the door. In fact, I had thoughts of turning around and running all the way home. What was I thinking? A few children from Stanley’s block played stick ball in the street. I allowed myself to watch them as a distraction from why I was there. And when I turned back to look at the brick façade of the Irving house, I still couldn’t make my feet move any closer to the steps. I am not sure how long I stood there before Stanley’s sister saw me through the window.
She was only there for a few seconds before running to fetch him. I considered running too. Surely I was about to be humiliated. Within seconds, though, the door was pulled open and out stepped Stanley, his eyes squinting with confusion. He wore only a white T-shirt and khaki pants, and he looked as handsome and brown and like a man as I had ever seen him. If it was possible, getting arrested had made him even more attractive.
“Hello, Winnie,” he said, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Whatcha doin’ out here?”
“I…came to see you.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
Stanley sauntered down the steps. “I suppose you saw the newspaper today?”
“Yes. I did.”
He approached me, stopping so there were only a few inches between us. I held my breath and met his
eyes. He did indeed have a mark on his face, some sort of injury from his ordeal.
“And I understand your Daddy isn’t very happy about what I’ve done.”
I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin up in defiance. “My daddy does not speak for me.” Curtains in several neighboring windows moved. A man walking by eyed us as he went.
Stanley grinned from ear to ear. “He doesn’t?”
“No, he certainly does not. That is why I am here. I wanted you to know that I am proud of you. I am proud that you stood up for what is right.”
Stanley tilted his face down closer to mine, gazing into my eyes. “Thank you. I’m really glad you came.” He reached his hand to caress my arm before kissing me—a soft yet simmering kiss. It reassured me of his feelings but ended too soon. I found myself still poised and waiting for more, inhaling his familiar scent and wishing we weren’t standing on the street in broad daylight for all his neighbors to see.
“Would you like to come in and hear about it?” He took my hands in both of his, and it felt like we were standing at the altar already.
“Yes, please.” I smiled before walking hand in hand with him up the steps to his house. I knew that day, that very second, actually, that we would be all right. He was still my Stanley, and we still loved each other—no matter how crazy the world got, or how hard it was being a black person in it.
Author’s Note
Ghosts. I know you want more ghosts. If that is the case, please check out my novel EVER NEAR which is veritably loaded with scary specters and amazing seers who’ll knock your socks off with their supernatural drama.
My research for this story was extensive despite its short length. I had to learn about Upton, sit-ins, hats, churches, church dances, and a million other little details about life in the early 1960’s for a black teenager in Baltimore. Any mistakes or inconsistencies lie solely with me. Please leave a review and let me know what you think and also visit me at melissamacvicar.com for more information about my writing.
Thanks for reading!
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thank you to:
My ever patient husband.
My daughter, Eileen, for reading and giving cover advice.
My son, Joel, for being himself.
My cover designer, Sarah, at Sprinkles on Top Studios.
My friends and advice givers Elizabeth, Stephen, and Mary.
Gabriella West for editing.
Nearer Still: A Secret Affinity Story Page 2
