by Gail Rock
I stood there silently, surveying myself in the mirror. It was hard to tell what the final result would be; I was still in bathrobe and curlers. Grandma was watching me in the mirror.
“Am I pretty?” I asked, turning to her suddenly.
She looked at me quietly for a moment, as though she were thinking of an answer.
“Well, am I?” I said, almost angry. “I just want to know!”
“Why I think you’re as good lookin’ as any girl could hope to be,” Grandma said.
“That’s not what I mean!”
“Well, everybody’s got their own ideas of what’s pretty and what ain’t. You’re sure pretty-lookin’ to me.”
“Oh, that’s just because you know me!” I said, angry.
Grandma put her hands on my shoulders and turned me to face her.
“Addie,” she said seriously. “You are pretty. You’re as pretty as any girl ever needs to be.”
I looked back at her for a long moment, not convinced that I was going to be pretty enough to impress Mr. Davenport.
“Come on now,” said Grandma. “Put your shoes on and come out in the kitchen so I can comb out your hair.”
I listlessly poked my feet into my new high heels. They were stiff leather pumps, and on my way to the kitchen I discovered that they required more than a casual practice run. I couldn’t resist clowning and walking on the sides of my ankles in them. Then I tried walking in a Groucho Marx slouch.
“Stand up straight!” said Grandma.
“Can’t!” I said, giggling. “My garter belt’s too tight!”
“Well, glory,” Grandma said, laughing. “Loosen it then!”
Dad was trying to look disapproving, but he couldn’t help smiling.
“You’d better get serious,” he said, “if you’re going to dance in those things tonight without falling over.”
I realized he was right. It would be horrible if I stumbled all over and stepped on Mr. Davenport’s toes while we were dancing. I thought again about staying home.
Grandma sensed my nervousness. “May I have this dance?” she said, and she grabbed me and whirled me around the kitchen in a waltz step, and I lurched along with her and we both laughed. Dad was watching, and I could tell they were both enjoying the sight of me in my first high heels, even if I was in rag curlers and my old chenille bathrobe.
Grandma and I both sat down breathlessly in kitchen chairs.
“Your dad used to be a fine dancer,” she said.
Dad looked embarrassed. I wondered if she was hinting something about Irene and the dance.
“He used to go out dancing with your momma all the time,” she said. “Go on, James, you help Addie practice in her shoes.”
She pushed me forward, and Dad looked a bit sheepish. Then Grandma started humming a song, and he held out his hand to me, and I took it, and we danced around the kitchen.
My dad was tall—as tall as Mr. Davenport. But with my high heels on, I didn’t have to stretch much to dance with him. We both laughed when I stumbled a bit, but I was determined to get the hang of the darn shoes. Dad seemed to be enjoying himself.
“Whew!” he said when we stopped. “I guess I haven’t got what it takes any more.”
Grandma smiled.
“You look as good as you ever did on the dance floor,” she said.
Now I was sure she was hinting.
Dad ignored the remark. I tried to think of some way to pursue the subject of Irene.
“Sit down here,” said Grandma, “and I’ll take your curlers out.”
She untied all the rag curlers, letting my hair fall down in ringlets around my face.
“Looks like Irene did a real nice job on your permanent,” Grandma said. “Curls up real good.”
I saw Dad glance at her.
“Yeah,” I said, sounding unimpressed. “I guess it’s OK.” I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of being enthusiastic about Irene. He had to know that she was all wrong for him.
“What did you think of Irene?” asked Grandma, not realizing she was playing right into my hands.
“I think she’s very common,” I said coolly, trying to catch a glance of Dad’s face without his seeing me. I saw him move uncomfortably in the doorway.
“That’s not a very nice thing to say, Addie,” said Grandma.
“Well, she is!” I said hotly. My feet were jiggling up and down nervously. “She wears that la-de-da hair-do, and I bet it’s bleached blond too, and those wedgies, and all that red nail polish! I think she’s absolutely trashy!” I wanted him to know just how I felt.
“Addie!” said Grandma. “I don’t want to hear you talk like that about anybody!”
“I’m going to be late!” I said, and jumped up from the chair, pulling out the last of the curlers and dumping them on the table. I headed for the bedroom. As I left the room, I heard Grandma speaking to Dad.
“You’re not going to the dance?” she asked him.
“You heard that,” he said. “Addie would have a fit.”
I stood in front of the mirror and gave myself a triumphant look. Irene had invited him to the dance, and I had successfully kept him from going. I was very pleased with myself. The whole idea of the two of them seeing each other was absolutely ridiculous.
I pulled on my dress and clasped Grandma’s rhinestone bracelet around my wrist. Then I slowly brushed out my hair. I hated to admit it, but Irene had done a good job on it. She had styled it into a long page boy, slightly fluffed out at the ends, and I did look older and more attractive.
“Come out and let’s see,” Grandma called from the kitchen.
I took one last look at myself in the mirror. Would it be enough for Mr. Davenport?
I walked slowly out to the kitchen and stood in the doorway. Neither Dad nor Grandma said a thing. They just looked at me as though they had never seen me before. I felt like a freak.
“I’m not going to the stupid dance!” I shouted, and wheeled around and ran back into the bedroom.
I threw myself on the bed. I wasn’t going to the dance and let everybody laugh at me for trying to look glamorous. It just wasn’t me, and I wasn’t going to be the only one there without a date.
Dad and Grandma came into the bedroom.
“Why, Addie!” Grandma said. “Of course you’re going to the dance. You look so pretty—you can’t stay home and let all this go to waste.”
“I’m not going,” I said.
“I already paid for your ticket,” said Dad.
“Now, James,” said Grandma.
“Well, she’s got a new dress and shoes and a permanent—Lord knows what all that costs,” he said.
“Money ain’t the thing that’s important here,” said Grandma firmly.
“Well, you know what I mean,” said Dad.
“You look fine, Addie,” said Grandma. “There’s no reason why you shouldn’t go.”
“I’m not going,” I repeated. “I’m not going to be the only one there without a date.”
“Well, I’ll take you myself,” Dad said suddenly.
Grandma gave him a look.
“What?” I said.
“I’ll go put on a suit,” he said.
“You don’t have to dress up just to walk her over there,” Grandma said slyly, watching him.
“Well, I might stay a few minutes,” he mumbled, and turned and left the room.
“I can’t go with you!” I called after him, but he’d already headed for his room. “I can’t go with my own father! My gosh, that would be awful,” I mumbled to Grandma.
“Addie,” said Grandma. “It’s nice he wants to take you. You mustn’t hurt his feelings.”
I sat there quietly for a moment, wondering if Dad really wanted to take me to the dance or if he had changed his mind about seeing Irene. He must be putting on the suit for her. The whole evening was going to be a total disaster. Me with no date, looking like a silly thirteen-year-old trying to be grown-up in front of Mr. Davenport; Billy with Tany
a; and my father with Irene Davis in front of everyone! I wanted to hide under the bed.
Just then Dad came back into the room with a little white box. He handed it to me.
“Here,” he said, “I thought you ought to wear this with your fancy dress.”
I opened it, and inside was a corsage of white daisies. It was the first time my father had ever bought me anything like that. I couldn’t think of what to say. I was almost sorry I had been so nasty about Irene.
I took the flowers out and Grandma pinned them on my dress.
“Thanks, Dad,” I said.
“OK,” he said, looking embarrassed, and he went to his room to put on his good blue suit.
I looked at myself in the mirror and admired the flowers. I decided I didn’t look half bad. Maybe I could carry it off after all.
Chapter Seven
I was really embarrassed to walk into the gym with my father. It was worse than going to the dance with no date, and I wanted to run ahead so no one would see I was with him, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
Luckily the gym was rather dark. So much crepe paper hung from the rafters that it cut out most of the big ceiling lights.
As we walked in the door, several of the kids looked over at us, but nobody said anything. I saw Mr. Davenport in a group of adults at the other end of the gym. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw his back was turned. It would have been humiliating to have him see my father bringing me to the dance as though I were a child.
I saw Billy, Tanya, Carla Mae, and some of the other kids across the floor by the record player, and I said goodbye to Dad and started over to join them. Suddenly I saw Irene coming toward me.
“Hello, Addie,” she said, smiling. “Your hair looks real nice.”
“Thanks,” I said, wanting to avoid her.
“Pretty flowers,” she said, looking at my corsage. “Daisies are my favorite.”
I looked at her and wondered just for a second if Dad had bought the corsage for her before he changed his mind about going to the dance.
Then Irene saw Dad behind me and stopped smiling. She gave him a very annoyed look, and as I turned to see what was happening, I saw him looking at her with a pained expression. She brushed past me and stood close to him, but I could hear every word they said to each other.
“I thought you didn’t want to come to the dance!” she said angrily.
“I had to walk Addie over,” he said, looking sheepish.
“Well, how come you wouldn’t come with me when I asked you then? Are you ashamed to be seen with me?”
“Oh, don’t be silly, Irene,” he said.
“Well, you’ve never asked me to go out any place in this town—just in places where you’ll be sure nobody will see us.”
I couldn’t believe it. Actually seeing them together horrified me. I had always daydreamed that Dad might get married again, but to someone elegant and sophisticated—not someone as common as Irene.
Dad saw me watching them and looked troubled. I walked away, leaving the two of them standing there. It was embarrassing enough that I was there with no date, but now everybody would see my father with Irene. I wanted to drop through the floor.
I started toward the record player again, and Tanya pulled Billy out onto the dance floor as though she were trying to avoid me. Carla Mae and her date, Jimmy Walsh, were selecting records for the next few dances.
“Addie!” she said. “You look great. Love your heels!”
“Thanks,” I said. “Yours are neat, too.”
“Your hair really looks different,” said Jimmy.
“Yeah, it’s OK, I guess,” I said. I wasn’t paying much attention to the two of them; I was straining to see who Mr. Davenport was talking to and watching Tanya and Billy out of the corner of my eye. Tanya, always the great ballerina, kept swishing her dress around and doing a lot of fancy steps, looking to see if anyone was watching her. Billy looked uncomfortable.
Carla Mae saw me watching them.
“Listen, Addie,” she said. “I have to tell you something.”
“What?”
She drew me aside so no one else could hear.
“You should hear what Billy said about you when you came in.”
“What?” I asked, feeling angry. He had probably said something insulting.
“You mean you really want to know?” Carla Mae asked, teasing me.
“Carter, if you don’t tell me, I’ll strangle you!”
“OK. He said you looked really neat!”
“He did?” I found that puzzling. I didn’t know what to make of it. I thought he was angry at me.
“Is that all?” I asked. “Did he say anything else?”
“Well, he said you were one of the best-looking ones here.”
“He did? In front of Tanya?”
“No,” said Carla Mae. “Just so I could hear it. Listen, he knew I’d tell you. He knows we always tell each other everything.”
“He’s so sneaky sometimes!” I said, pleased. If Billy thought I looked good, I was more encouraged about approaching Mr. Davenport. I decided that now was the time to go and say hello to him.
Just then Jimmy put a conga record on and everyone rushed to form lines. I saw Irene pulling my father’s hand and dragging him out on the dance floor. I had never seen him at a dance before, and he actually looked as if he was enjoying himself.
Irene started one line with him and moved it around the floor quickly, laughing and shouting to the others as she went by. The other lines joined hers one by one until there were thirty or forty people dancing in one long line around the gym. I couldn’t believe my father was making such a fool of himself. I had always wanted him to be less stern and quiet than he was, but now that I saw him that way I hated it. I squashed myself as far back into the corner by the record player as I could and hoped no one could see me.
Mr. Davenport was watching the conga line, too, and I hoped he didn’t recognize my father with Irene. When the conga was over, I once again made ready to approach him, but he started to move toward the stage and the microphone that had been set up there. It was time for the crowning of the King and Queen of Hearts. It all seemed so silly and unimportant to me; I was anxious for them to get it over with so I could talk to Mr. Davenport.
The stage was decorated with crepe paper streamers, too, and in the center were two huge throne chairs we had borrowed from the local Baptist church. Draped across each chair was an “ermine” robe of cotton we had all made in art class, and on each robe rested the foil-covered crowns we had designed. Big red cardboard hearts, covered with glitter, hung all over the stage as a backdrop.
Carla Mae and Jimmy had come back to the corner by the record player, and we stood watching together.
“I don’t know what the big suspense is,” Carla Mae said. “Everybody knows it’s Billy Wild and Carolyn Holt.”
“Well,” said Jimmy. “She is the prettiest one in the class.”
“I know,” I said. “That’s the point. Everybody knows she’s the prettiest, so we all vote for her for stuff like this and she wins every time and there’s never any suspense.”
“Yeah,” said Jimmy. “You’re right. Billy always wins, too, because he’s the best in sports.”
“Also he’s the cutest,” said Carla Mae.
“Oh, really!” I said. “It’s all so adolescent.”
“Well, we are adolescent!” said Carla Mae irritably.
“Speak for yourself,” I said.
At a signal from Mr. Davenport, Irene sat down at the piano on stage and played a little fanfare.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” said Mr. Davenport. “Now for the highlight of the evening, we are proud to announce the King and Queen of Hearts for 1949. The result of secret balloting by the entire seventh-grade class.”
Everyone in the class applauded themselves as he said that.
Mr. Davenport took an envelope out of his pocket and removed a sheet of paper with the results on it.
He
made a dramatic pause, then announced, “The King and Queen of Hearts are—Billy Wild and Carolyn Holt!”
Carla Mae and I gave each other mock looks of surprise and then applauded and cheered loudly. We like Carolyn and had voted for her ourselves, so we were pleased. I had even voted for Billy, in spite of the fact that he was obnoxious.
Billy and Carolyn made their way up the steps to the stage, Carolyn looking modestly pleased and Billy looking embarrassed. Mr. Davenport draped the ermine robes around each of them and carefully placed the crowns on their heads. Then Irene played “Heart of My Heart,” without jazzing it up too much. And Carolyn’s mother came up to the foot of the stage and took a flash picture.
I was watching Mr. Davenport.
“Oh, this is going to go on forever,” I said to Carla Mae. “I wish we would get on with the dance.”
Tanya moved in beside us.
“I just knew he’d win,” she gushed. “I’m so proud of him.”
“Proud of him?” said Carla Mae. “What did you have to do with it?”
“Well, I am his date!” said Tanya.
“Oh, brother!” said Carla Mae, and she and I rolled our eyes at each other.
“Now,” Mr. Davenport said. “The King and Queen will have the first part of this dance. Then when the music stops they’ll choose other partners, and each time the music stops, those who are dancing please choose new partners.”
“Oh, good,” said Tanya. “I get to dance with Billy with his crown on. I hope my mother gets a picture.”
Carla Mae and I smirked at each other.
Someone put “My Funny Valentine” on the record player, and Billy and Carolyn, both looking awkward in their robes and crowns, started dancing alone in the middle of the floor. Somebody turned on a spotlight from the stage and followed them around the floor with it.
In a few moments the music stopped, and Billy and Carolyn started to move toward the edge of the floor to choose new partners. Carolyn asked Dick Peterson, who was her date, and Billy headed toward our corner. Tanya started adjusting her dress, ready to get out on the floor and show off again.
“Addie,” she said. “Are my seams straight?”
I checked the back of her legs. “One of them looks like a corkscrew,” I lied.
