by Dean Hughes
“Just tell me that we’ll see each other one more time before you marry someone.”
“I can’t promise that, Katrina.”
But he was still looking into those brown eyes, with all the golden flecks, and she was leaning toward him. And then he kissed her, even though he hadn’t meant to, and after, he told her, “I’ll try. All right? That’s all I can promise.”
He had told himself not to say anything like that, but now she had wrapped her arms around his neck, and she was pulling him close again, kissing him again, and at the same time laughing. And when she let him go, she grinned into his face and said, “I knew it. I even told Mama. You love me. I know you do.”
That was something he wouldn’t say. But it did seem possible.
Chapter 10
Hardly a day passed without Bea Thomas asking Wally whether he wanted to be lined up for a date. Wally kept telling her that he wasn’t quite ready for that, but then one morning, while Wally was eating his breakfast, she asked him, “Are you going to the stake Christmas dance?”
“I might,” he said. “I talked to Chuck about going. We were thinking we’d just go stag and see whether we still know how to dance before we try out our dating skills, full-fledged.”
“Okay. But listen. I talked to Sister Iverson, and her daughter just happens to think you’re about the best-looking guy around.”
“Are you kidding?”
Mom came to the table and sat down across from Wally. “No. Not at all. And this Iverson girl—Patty—she’s cute as a bug’s ear.”
“I’m not sure that’s the best recommendation I can think of.” Wally was going after his third egg, and he had already eaten several strips of bacon. He was eating a little more carefully these days, but he still relished every fresh egg he ate.
“Trust me. She’s really pretty. I told Sister Iverson you probably wouldn’t ask anyone to the dance, so she said she’d make sure Patty went without a date. I’m supposed to make sure you at least ask her to dance a few times. Will you do that?”
“I guess so. I have to dance with someone. It might as well be someone who looks like a bug’s ear.”
Mom ignored that one. “You might think she’s a little young for you. But she started up to the U this year, so she’s probably nineteen by now, or close to it anyway. And
she’s smart as a whip.”
“Cute as a bug’s ear and smart as a whip. How does she dance—light as a feather?”
“Well . . . that I can’t promise. But Wally, I’m serious. She’s pretty and really nice, and she’s already interested in you. Give her a chance. All right?”
“I’ll give her a dance for right now.” Wally slid his chair back and stood up. He needed to get to work.
“Not just one. Get to know her.”
But Wally promised nothing more, and the truth was, he worried about the situation all week. On Friday night, which was only four days before Christmas, he spent more time getting ready for the dance than he had for anything he had done since high school. He had three new suits that he had bought for work, and he put on the one he liked best: dark blue, double-breasted, with a thin pinstripe. By the time he had wet his hair down and combed it back, he found himself thinking that he didn’t look bad at all. But every time he imagined himself asking a girl to dance he felt his stomach take a little jump.
Still, he wasn’t half so nervous as Chuck. Chuck had come home a couple of weeks after Wally that fall, and he and Wally had spent a fair amount of time together, but Chuck was having a harder time adjusting to life at home. When Wally stopped by Chuck’s place to pick him up, he had gone back to the bathroom to change his tie. “He’s already tried four or five different ones,” his mother told Wally. “Help him, all right? I never thought I’d see him like this. He hasn’t found a job yet, but that’s mostly because he’s afraid to look. He hardly leaves the house, except when he goes somewhere with you. I keep telling him he’s got to get back into the swing of things, just a little at a time, but he’s scared to try anything.”
“He was the one who talked to me about going to the dance, Sister Adair.”
“I know that. But that’s only after I practically talked his leg off. If you had told him you weren’t going, he wouldn’t have gone by himself.”
“Well, I’m pretty nervous myself. I guess we’ll have to help each other out.”
When Chuck came striding into the living room, he looked out of breath, but Wally could see one big change immediately. Since Wally had seen him the week before, he had had his remaining teeth pulled, and he now had false teeth. They looked a little too straight, too white, too big for his mouth—but still, he did look better than when he had come home.
When Wally and Chuck got into Wally’s car, however, the first thing Chuck said was, “I feel like a real mug with these new teeth. They don’t look natural.”
“You’ll get used to them. They look fine.”
“I look like some old coot, sixty years old. The darn things click when I talk.”
The fact was, Wally had picked up a hint of that, and maybe even a bit of a whistle. “Chuck, a lot of people have false teeth. Don’t worry about it.”
“You know what, Wally? This isn’t as good as I thought it would be—being home.”
“We probably built it up a little too much.”
“Do you ever tell anyone that?”
“No.”
“I don’t either. My parents think I’m losing my mind, but they don’t have any idea what’s going on inside my head all the time. I’m not sure I know myself.”
“Chuck, we’re going to be all right. We have to do it like we did in the camps. We just take it a day at a time, do what we have to do.”
“I thought I was through with that.”
Wally knew what he meant. And yet, he could feel that Chuck was struggling more than he was. “We’ve got to stop doing things, just the two of us. We need to get dates, go to the movies, things like that. I don’t know about you, but I want to find someone to date, you know, regular, and start thinking about getting married.”
“I need to think that way, too, I guess, but so far I can’t imagine what kind of husband I would make. At the very least, I’ve got to find a job.”
“You will. Do you know what kind of work you want to do?”
“No. I don’t have the first idea.”
Wally made up his mind to check with his dad about work for Chuck, but he decided not to push the matter any further tonight.
At the dance, Wally and Chuck soon found that they had arrived on time—or in other words, way too early. A couple of girls were still putting the final touches on some table decorations around the punch bowl. On one wall, in red and green letters, was a sign that read “Winter Wonderland,” and all around it were lacy white paper cut-outs of snowflakes. Smaller snowflakes were hanging on strings from the ceiling. It all looked nice enough, but the band was just settling in, getting ready to play, and Chuck and Wally were two of the first to have shown up. “Should we go somewhere for a while and come back later?” Chuck asked.
“Nah. Let’s stick around. People will get here before long.”
But the flow of stake members was slow for a time, and most who did arrive seemed to be older people, in couples. Wally was starting to wonder whether he and Chuck would be the only ones there without dates. The two of them stood out of the way, near a corner, talking, watching, and waiting, until the hall gradually did fill up. By then they could see that there were some young women standing together in groups, but most of them looked like high school kids. “Criminy, Wally,” Chuck finally said. “I’m not going to rob the cradle. There’s no one around who’s our age. Let’s just go.”
“Hey, most of the girls our age are married,” Wally told him. “We might have to get to know some of these younger ones.”
“Well, then, you go first. Grab one and show me what you can do. You used to really cut a rug.”
“I’ll go when you go with me.”
But neither made a move, and they might have stood around all night if it hadn’t been for LaRue. Wally had seen her come in with some girlfriends a little earlier. Someone had asked her to dance almost immediately, and she had hardly missed a dance since. All the same, she dragged a young man with her and walked toward Wally and Chuck. “Hey, I’d begun to think you two weren’t even here,” she said, as she approached. “Why are you hiding out over here?”
“There’s no one for us to dance with,” Wally said. “We’re too old for the girls who came stag.”
“Hogwash,” LaRue said. “Mom told me I have to make sure you dance with Patty Iverson. Do you even know which one she is?”
“I thought I’d recognize her—from a picture Mom showed me—but I haven’t seen her yet.”
“Yes, you have. Look, she’s dancing with that guy in the brown suit, right there by the bandstand.”
Wally looked through the crowd. The band was playing “Dancing in the Dark,” and people were swaying and spinning. He could see a dark-haired girl in a brilliant red dress. In fact, he had noticed her before. She was about as flashy as anyone out there, and as best he could tell, very pretty. “That girl’s got a date,” he said. “She’s been dancing with that same fellow the whole night.”
“Wally, that guy just glommed onto her, and he’s keeping her for himself. But you can cut in any time you want.”
Chuck laughed. “Go ahead and do it,” he said.
But Wally hated the idea of walking out and tapping some guy’s shoulder. If he did dance, he wanted to ask someone, quietly, and then stay along the edges of the hall while he tried out his unpracticed dancing skills.
“Wally, Mom always says you were the best dancer at East High. It’ll all come back to you in a couple of minutes. Listen to the music. You know what to do.”
Actually, Wally had found himself tapping his toe, feeling that he did want to get out there.
“Look at Patty. She’s the prettiest girl here.” LaRue glanced at the tall kid who was holding her hand, and he gave his head a little shake.
“That’s what worries me,” Wally said.
“Do it, Wally,” Chuck said. “Go ask her now, before this number ends.”
Wally was thinking. She was too far away. He wasn’t going to make that long walk all the way across the hall. But he didn’t say that. “Just a minute,” he said. “I will . . . at some point.”
LaRue laughed at him. “Well, I’m going to go dance. But you’d better get out there pretty soon. Mom’s going to hold me responsible if you chicken out.” She walked off with the boy, still holding his hand.
The song ended, and the guy in the brown suit wasn’t walking off the floor with Patty. The two stood on the floor and talked with another couple. “Why don’t you cut in on that other girl?” Wally asked Chuck. “The one she’s talking to.”
“Maybe I will. But not just yet. You get us started.”
Wally nodded. He knew better than to wait for Chuck. But he waited until the next number began: “Harbor Lights.” That was nice and easy. Wally figured he could handle it. And Mr. Brown Suit had just made a major mistake. He was moving Patty closer, working his way around the outside of the hall.
“This is it,” Chuck said. “This is your chance.”
Suddenly Wally was stepping onto the floor. As the guy swung Patty around, she spotted Wally coming toward her, and she gave him a big smile. She was pretty. She was wearing lipstick as bright as her dress, and her teeth were as white as the snowflakes. And she had dimples! Wally loved dimples. He reached out and tapped the shoulder of that brown suit. The man—a much younger guy than Wally had realized—seemed just a little upset. But that might be all right. Maybe that meant he would be back after a dance or two. Wally could dance a couple of times and be out of this situation before he had to think of something to talk about for very long.
“Hi,” he said, as he took hold of Patty, touching her waist, her surprisingly little hand. “My name’s Wally Thomas.”
“Oh, come on. Do you really think I don’t know that?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure.”
“Every girl in Sugar House knows who you are. You’re the handsome war hero.”
“Not really.”
“I even remember you from before the war. I was kind of young, but you were that good-looking high school boy, President Thomas’s son.” She smiled, and her dimples sank deep. She had eyes as dark as her hair, and pretty skin. But Wally couldn’t help thinking that she looked like a little girl. Mom said she was eighteen, but she seemed even younger than that.
Wally had fallen into a foxtrot step quite easily, and since he couldn’t think of anything to say, he brought Patty in a little closer and concentrated for a time on his dancing. He began to make some turns, to feel the music. He liked that, felt as though he hadn’t really forgotten much. Patty wasn’t a bad dancer either, but she was a little too short, and maybe just a little stiff.
When the music stopped, Wally didn’t know what to do. He half expected Patty to walk to the side and thank him. But she turned toward him, kept hold of his arm. “Wally, you’re a wonderful dancer. You must have been practicing.”
“That was the first time I’ve danced since I got home.”
“Really? Oh, my. You’re a natural.”
Something in her tone of voice seemed too enthusiastic, maybe just a little forced, as though she were nervous herself—and at the same time, aware of the effect her smile, her dimples, could have on a guy. He tried to think of something he could say to her.
“What are you doing now, Wally?”
“I’m working for my dad. I might start taking some college classes before long, but right now, I’m just trying to figure out my job.”
“You’re too modest. My mom told me you’re the manager of the whole plant.”
“Not exactly. Not yet. If anyone is the boss, it’s my mom.” Wally wondered if Patty’s remark wasn’t a little too transparent. He could almost hear Sister Iverson saying, “That Wally Thomas is going to take over the Thomas businesses someday. He’s going to be rich.”
“I’ll bet your mother is anxious to quit working, now that the war is over.”
“I’m not so sure about that. I think she likes it.”
“Really? I wouldn’t want to be boss over a bunch of people—especially men.” She put her hands on her hips and tried to make a gruff face. “Get to work, Buddy!” she said,
and then she laughed. “Do you think some big guy would listen to me?”
“I’ve got a feeling that you could smile at a fellow, and he’d do just about anything you wanted.”
Wally knew he was flirting, knew that he had returned to an old game he had almost forgotten, but it came as naturally as the dancing, and he saw the words take effect. Patty turned her head a little, gave him a gleaming sidelong smile, and then leaned close and whispered, “All right then. I command you to dance with me again.”
The band had just begun to play “Mexicali Rose.” Wally was relieved to stop talking and dance again, but as he took hold of her, he said, “Your wish is my command, Miss Iverson,” with a certain sort of dreaminess in his voice.
She moved in close to him, looked up and winked. “Be careful,” she said. “You have no idea what I might be wishing.”
Wally let that one go. He was almost too good at this—or she was. As he twirled her around, he looked for the fellow in the brown suit, but he was suddenly afraid that the guy might come back too soon. This girl was dazzling, and he did like being close to her, smelling her perfume, touching her back, feeling her hair brush against his face—no matter how much she scared him.
When the number ended, Wally talked with her again—talked about the U, her uncertainty about a major, her sorority—and then they danced to “I Don’t Want to Set the World on Fire.” The band gave the number an upbeat tempo, and Wally got up his nerve to try some swing steps. Patty did all right, too, and by the time the song ended, she was loo
king wonderfully flushed and was telling him, “Wally, you’re the best dancer I’ve ever danced with. I can’t believe you haven’t been practicing.”
Wally was looking about, trying to spot Chuck, but the guy had disappeared. Wally hoped that he had found a partner and was dancing too.
“Wally, I’ve heard that POWs had to put up with terrible, terrible things from the Japs. Was it really so awful as everyone says?”
“It was pretty bad.”
“I’ll bet it made you strong, didn’t it? My mother said she heard that you have a testimony that’s just really burning.”
“Well . . . I wasn’t a very religious young man. Something like that does change how you feel about your beliefs.”
“That’s so neat.” She was trying to look serious, but that glowing smile kept sneaking through.
“Neat?”
“I mean, it’s just so swell that you have a burning testimony and everything, and you’re such a good dancer, too.”
Wally was stopped. He couldn’t think of a word to say.
“I don’t think the younger boys, the ones who didn’t go to war, will ever be as strong and mature as you war veterans are.”
“Well . . . some guys . . .” But Wally couldn’t bring himself to tell her how the war had actually ruined plenty of men. “I just appreciate the way everyone back home supported us guys who were out there,” he said, and then he took her hand and began to dance again. The band was playing “I Love You for Sentimental Reasons.” What Wally was looking for now was an excuse. At the end of this song maybe he would tell Patty that he couldn’t leave Chuck on his own all evening.
But then he spotted Chuck—dancing. He was not far off, and he was looking over a girl’s shoulder, grinning. Wally was happy for him and pleased that he seemed to be dancing just fine, even enjoying himself, but then the two turned and Wally realized that Chuck was dancing with Lorraine Gardner.
Wally felt a little thrill at seeing her, but only for a moment, and then he realized that he didn’t want her there. The comparison had already been in his head, even without seeing her.
