Dancing With Velvet
Page 7
****
The January dance fell near the end of the month, about the time Celeste calculated Kent should be back in San Angelo. When Paula and Veda invited her to dress at their place again, she almost said no. How can I look at Kent and wonder what he’d think of me? Maybe Ben wouldn’t have cared if it had been Coralee, but Kent would. He’s not like the men Mamma went out with, the ones who… How could Mamma let someone do that to her when she was already married and had Coralee? Kent said I was young and sweet, but now he might think I was like Mamma. I look like her. Maybe all those feelings I’ve been having means I’m like her in other ways, too. Kent wouldn’t want anybody like that. Never in a million years.
But when Saturday came, with hope welling up from deep inside, she got on the bus carrying the box with her blue velvet dress and the new silver sandals.
****
The Roof Garden was as beautiful as she remembered it, but Kent was nowhere in sight. When the band took a break, she wandered down to the lobby to get a soft drink.
“Hey, Miss. You in the blue dress.”
Celeste followed the sound of the voice to the desk clerk. “Are you talking to me?”
“You wearing a blue velvet dress?”
Yes, and silver slippers, she thought unhappily, much good they’re doing me.
“Your name Celeste?”
She nodded.
“Have a letter for you. Just saw it in the box.” He held out an envelope. “Yeah, it’s for you.”
Celeste turned the envelope over in her hands. It was addressed to the hotel, but just below the address were the words, “For Celeste, the girl in the blue velvet dress.”
Retreating to a secluded corner behind a potted palm, she tore open the letter with trembling fingers and unfolded the paper.
Dear Miss Celeste,
My route has changed, so I won’t be back in San Angelo again. I can’t complain, since it’s a promotion and more money, but I was counting on seeing you.
Like I told you, I have responsibilities yet, and I can’t even think about what I want right now, but if I could, I’d want you to be part of my dreams. Maybe someday our paths will cross again.
You take good care of yourself, and don’t stop going dancing or wearing that blue velvet dress. I’m sure somebody else will ask you to dance. A lot of somebodies. I just wish one of them could be me.
Sincerely,
Kent
Veda and Paula found her curled in the deep leather chair, weeping quietly, and got the story out of her. Though she protested she didn’t want to ruin their good time, they insisted on walking her home, where they hugged her and told her everything would be all right. She’d meet somebody else next month. At least Kent had been gentleman enough to write and explain why he didn’t show up.
Before she got into bed, she hung the dress in the back of her closet and returned the silver slippers to their box. If she hadn’t walked home in them, the soles would hardly be scuffed.
Sitting on the edge of the bed in her pajamas, she read Kent’s letter again. What had she expected from him? He’d been honest from the beginning about not being free to make a commitment. Besides, what kind of commitment did she expect him to make after they’d met only a few times? Anyway, things have changed. I’m not who he thought I was, and no blue velvet dress and silver slippers can ever make me the same person again.
She slipped the letter under her pillow. Maybe it’s better this way. I spent fifty dollars on a dress I’ll never wear again. I could’ve had three new outfits for work. Serves me right for being so silly.
She sat up, plucked the letter from beneath her pillow, and held it briefly against her cheek. Then she got up and tucked it into the box Pete had made for her in wood shop when they were in high school. Her fingers skimmed the polished lid. Another memory put away. Is that all I’ll ever have—memories? What about a life? She got back into bed and switched off the lamp.
All over. All her bright dreams. They were silly dreams anyway. Kent wasn’t her dream prince after all. Maybe princes didn’t exist, at least not for her.
He’d been so nice, so thoughtful the way he’d driven her home first, before Veda and Paula. She’d felt so proud sitting next to him at church the next morning. Maybe pride was the problem. Maybe only her pride was hurt.
She turned over and buried her face in the pillow, trying to quash her thoughts. She and Pete had some good times in high school, but this was different. Kent was different.
Oh, Kent, why did it turn out this way? Why couldn’t we have had just one more night, one more weekend? Then I could’ve made some excuse about why we shouldn’t see each other again or keep in touch, about why I can’t be part of your dreams.
She flopped over on her back. Why am I such an idiot?
For the first time since before Christmas, she dreamed about the blue velvet drape billowing in an unseen wind. But this time, no one came out from behind it…and her beautiful dress hung around her in tatters.
Chapter Six
Winter dragged on through February and March, cold and wet, the dreariness of the days matching Celeste’s spirits. Her twentieth birthday fell on a Saturday in April. At Coralee’s insistence, she took the bus to Sterling City for the weekend, but she continued to refuse all invitations to return to the dances at the St. Angelus.
“Maybe you went for the wrong reason,” Veda ventured over lunch one Friday. “I mean, did you go to have a good time or to find a husband?”
Celeste tried to hide her irritation at the question. “Why do you and Paula go?”
“To have a good time, that’s all. Paula’s set on that design school in Dallas, and I’m not going to clerk at Woolworth all my life either. We’re not old maids because we’re past twenty, and neither are you. If I meet someone special there, fine, but for now, it’s a safe, clean, good time.”
“I just don’t want to go back, Veda.”
“Then I won’t nag you about it, but if you ever do, don’t be afraid to say so.”
“Sure, I’ll let you know.”
****
“I’m worried about you, Cece,” Coralee told her when Celeste came for another visit at the end of May. “You’re drooping.”
“I’m all right.”
“Honey, Kent isn’t the only man in the world, and you only saw him three or four times. You put all your eggs in one basket.”
“Is that what I did?”
“I think so.”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Maybe after you’d gotten to know him better, you wouldn’t even have liked him.”
“I guess that’s possible. But he was so nice, Sister. He was nice to me.”
“You said he was a good dancer and a perfect gentleman, but you’ve dated a lot of boys like that.”
“He wasn’t a boy, Sister. He was a man.”
“Is that what you liked about him?”
“I think so. It was like the dress…different, you know?”
“And you were really attracted to him, the way a woman is attracted to a man. Do we need to have a talk?”
“You had a talk with me when I was twelve, remember?”
“Well, yes, but I only went so far. Maybe it’s time for another one.”
Celeste giggled. “I know about the birds and the bees, Sister.”
“It’s a lot more than that, sweetie. Marriage is a whole lot more than just wanting to be physically close to somebody.”
“You and Ben are really happy, aren’t you?”
“I love him more than I did when we got married ten years ago, if you can believe that. We were just kids, for heaven’s sake. Seventeen and eighteen.”
“And even then you knew you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.”
“Sure, I did. Young as we were, we meant for it to last forever, and it’s going to. But we both had a lot of growing up to do even after we married. Living here with Pearl and Big Ben helped. We saw the kind of give and take relationship they had
and learned from it. Still, it’s a good thing we didn’t have Barbara right off the bat. We weren’t ready to be parents.”
“You and Ben are good parents.”
“We try. She’s the only chance we’ll get.”
“I’m sorry about what happened when she was born.”
“Well, I am, too, Cece, but we both came out all right, and maybe one child is enough, with the way things are going in the world.”
“The Sunday we walked around town, Kent said there’s going to be another war.”
“I think he’s right. Big Ben says things are sure heading that way.”
“Would Ben have to go?”
“Probably not. Ranching is what they call a war-necessary business, and since it’s just his dad and him, well, he’d probably get exempted.”
“I hope so.”
“But there’ll be a lot of others who have to go.”
“Like Kent.”
“Your Kent would be a prime candidate at his age with no dependents.”
“He’s not my Kent.”
“But you still kind of think of him that way, don’t you?”
“I need to stop thinking about him at all.”
“Yes, you do. Get out and have some fun, Cece. Big sister says so.”
****
Spring was late, and when summer came, it was hotter than Celeste could remember. Mr. Thomas brought up an extra fan from the stockroom and kept the windows wide open, but nothing helped very much. By noon, Celeste felt like a hothouse plant someone had overwatered by mistake.
She made a conscious effort to put Kent out of her mind, chiding herself for expending so much effort and emotion on someone she’d seen twice. She didn’t even know his last name, just Kent from Brownwood. They’d kept it impersonal for a reason, and now she was acting like a silly schoolgirl.
Still, every time she went to the window to find some fresh air, she couldn’t help watching the sidewalk below, hoping against reason to catch a glimpse of him. Once she thought she did, but when the man took off his hat to wipe his forehead with a handkerchief, she felt foolish and drew back inside so quickly she bumped her head hard enough to bring tears to her eyes.
She caught a summer cold and had to stay home for two days. Her father—though she’d tried without success to stop thinking of him that way—didn’t ask how she was feeling and complained that dinner wasn’t ready when he got home. Feverish and miserable, Celeste told him he could afford to eat downtown. He slammed out of the house mumbling something about not paying for her keep.
Maybe it was the fever that made her dream, but she woke one night calling Kent’s name. He’d been so real, so close, and now he was gone. She wept with frustration, closed her eyes, and tried to call him back.
She did her Christmas shopping in July so she could put things on layaway. One Friday, the saleslady who had talked her into the blue velvet dress waylaid her on her way out of the store.
“I’m dying to know what happened to you in that dress.”
“Nothing happened,” Celeste replied, resenting the intrusion into her private life. “I went dancing once or twice, that’s all.”
“Only once or twice?”
“I didn’t like it.”
“Didn’t like it? Every girl likes to dance with a handsome man.”
“Maybe there weren’t any handsome men,” Celeste said. “Excuse me, I’ve got to catch my ride.”
All the way to the bank, she berated herself for her rudeness. If things had been different, she might have told the friendly clerk about Kent. But things weren’t different, and it hurt to remember how she thought they had been.
****
At the end of August, Paula received word she’d won a scholarship to the design school in Dallas and would be leaving at Christmas to enroll for the second term. Veda asked Celeste if she wanted to share the room.
“I can’t afford it on my own. If I can’t find a roommate, I’ll have to quit and go back home. Not that home’s a bad place, but there aren’t many jobs in a little place like Winters. Besides, I like San Angelo. I’m even thinking about taking a night class at the business college.”
Celeste was tempted. I could manage half the rent, and Coralee would say I should do it. Then she thought of her own spacious room and how she’d have to fit into half the cramped one in the boarding house. Though she’d shared space happily with Coralee for years, she’d settled into her own way of doing things now that she had the room to herself. “I couldn’t leave my father to do for himself,” she fibbed. “He depends on me.”
“Is he going to depend on you for the rest of his life?” Veda asked.
Celeste shrugged. “If I left…well, I just can’t, that’s all. Not right now.”
Coralee didn’t even try to hide her irritation when Celeste told her about turning down the offer. “You can stay with Daddy until the day he dies, and he’ll be the same as he is right now. What do you think is going to happen?”
“It’s not Daddy. It’s leaving my room and all my pretty things. He might, well, get rid of them.”
“Ben and I will go down and get your bedroom suite and anything you can’t take with you and store it at the ranch.”
“Daddy wouldn’t let you.”
“He owes me. He owes you, for that matter.”
“I’m going to stay for now, Sister. Maybe one of these days I can have my own place.”
“I think you’re making a big mistake. This is a golden opportunity.”
“Then it’s my mistake,” Celeste snapped, instantly regretting her words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“I almost stayed home longer because of you. Ben understood. He really did. But I knew if I didn’t get out when I had the chance, I might not ever get out. Then, when Big Ben offered you a place here, I knew I’d made the right decision.”
“But I didn’t go.”
“No, you didn’t. Do you know what Daddy said when I told him Ben and I were getting married?”
“I guess I don’t remember.”
“Because you didn’t hear. I sent you across the street before I told him. He called me a name I won’t repeat and asked me if I was pregnant.”
“Oh, Sister.”
“Didn’t you ever wonder why he didn’t walk me down the aisle? It wasn’t just all that stuff about not letting you go with me.”
“I guess I was having too much fun being a bridesmaid to wonder where he was.”
“You didn’t care where he was. Neither did I. I really worried about leaving you there afterward.”
“I’ve been all right.”
“How long are you going to be all right, Cece? Nothing’s going to change.”
Celeste sighed. “I’ll think about it again, Sister. I promise.” But they both knew she wouldn’t.
****
September was muggy and wet. People talked about the flood of 1936 and wondered aloud if another one was due. Celeste packed a small bag and kept it under her desk in case she got caught downtown some afternoon and couldn’t get home.
The weather finally turned cooler in mid-October, and November brought the first frost of the season. She went to Sterling City for Thanksgiving. It was a quick trip, there and back in one day, because she had to be at work on Friday.
After work that Friday, with her layaway paid out early, she used some of her savings to buy a new winter coat at Levine’s and wore it to church on Sunday. Mrs. Lowe told her she looked like a blooming rose in the bright red wool.
The next week seemed to drag. Veda found a new roommate, which eased Celeste’s conscience, and the girls at the store began planning a going-away party for Paula. Mr. Thomas said they could use the employee lounge after work if Celeste would be responsible for locking up.
She overslept the following Sunday and was almost late to church. She wondered if she was going because it was the thing to do, because she was enjoying her stylish new coat, or because it was simply a habit.
Just after twelv
e, as the congregation began to exit the church, she sensed something wasn’t right. Several cars parked along the street had their radios turned on with the volume up louder than necessary. As she walked down Harris, she heard the words Pearl Harbor repeated over and over. Finally she stopped beside one of the cars to listen.
“What does it mean?” she asked an older man leaning on an open car door.
“It means we’re at war, little lady.”
“War? Why?”
“The Japs finally did it. They bombed our bases at Pearl Harbor.”
“Where’s that?”
He spat a brown stream of tobacco juice into the gutter. “Hawaii,” he said. “In the Pacific Ocean. Our boys are floating around in the Pacific Ocean like dead fish.”
****
On Monday, Celeste sat in the office with Mr. Thomas and Marilyn and listened to President Roosevelt ask Congress for a declaration of war against Japan. She thought of Pete and hoped he’d be able to graduate from the university before he was drafted. Then she thought of Ben, hoping Coralee was right about him not having to go. And then she thought of Kent and knew he would.
****
As the country geared up for war, Celeste threw herself into the local efforts by volunteering with the Red Cross on Saturday afternoons. When the small local airport became a bombardier training school, Mrs. Lowe and some of the other ladies in town decided that two bases warranted a Canteen for the servicemen who would be arriving to learn to fly or to drop their bombs with deadly accuracy.
“We want nice girls, Celeste. Girls who remind the boys of their sisters and girlfriends back home. Girls that the married men, if there are any, can sit and talk to about their wives and children.”
Celeste recruited Veda, whose brother had enlisted in the Marines the day after Pearl Harbor. “I can’t do anything for Bobby,” Veda said, “but maybe being nice to some of these other boys will help him somehow.”
“I’m sure anything we can do will help all our boys,” Mrs. Lowe assured her. The day before the doors opened, she called in all the volunteers and laid down the rules.
“This is their home away from home, so to speak. We’re going to have good food, good conversation, games, dancing, a place for them to write letters, listen to the radio, and read. Anything they need, we’re going to provide if at all possible.