“That sounds like fun. I’m glad you’ve got friends to hang with. You need to laugh more. Stay out as late as seems reasonable, but remember to call me on your cell phone to check in every once in a while, OK?”
“I will, Mom.” I leaned over and kissed her. I couldn’t believe how easy this was going to be. I only felt a little guilty about deceiving her.
The next night Leon arrived dressed in black silk slacks and shirt. When I answered the door, he stood there looking excited and nervous. Even though most of the girls would probably be wearing slacks and a casual shirt, I decided to wear a short silver dress, not dressy, but classy and sleek. It had a V-neck front, tie back, and slim cut. Around my neck I wore the silver butterfly necklace.
“You look good, Keisha—that silver really makes you ... shine,” Leon managed to say. “I hope that doesn’t sound dumb.”
“I like your outfit, too,” I told him honestly. I could see his muscles under his shirt and noticed with pleasure how really good he looked. In a couple of years when he’s outgrown his high school immaturity, I thought, he’ll be dynamite. Mom snapped pictures like cameras were going out of business the next day, but I just smiled and let her take as many as she wanted.
Leon finally led me to his car, after Mom insisted that I take an extra jacket, and we both laughed as we sped down the street to the hall where the dance was being held.
“Is your mother always that nice?” Leon asked.
“No, she can be a real pain when she wants to be,” I told him, “but you’re lucky—she likes you!”
Leon laughed and relaxed noticeably as we drove. The air was very cold, but clear. Silver stars glittered in the sky. Leon kept grinning at me, and I smiled back, but my smile was really for Jonathan.
We got to the dance, where the music was loud and the crowd was already mixing it up on the dance floor. Joyelle and Angel sat giggling near the potato chips, not dancing, but looking like they were really glad to be there. Gerald, who kept his eye on Angel, danced with Jalani, who wore a copy of a designer outfit that she had seen on the cover of Vogue. She looked better than the model who had worn it.
I saw Rhonda, who saw my dress and screamed, “Girl, that dress is the bomb!” Rhonda wore white silk sweats which Tyrone said looked as dynamite as she had promised. Leon stood to one side, seeming to enjoy it all.
I glanced around the room, looking for Jonathan, but I didn’t see him in the crowd. I danced with Leon, then Tyrone, Gerald, and even B. J., who didn’t bring a date. I was having a good time, but only half my mind was concentrating on the dance. The rest of me searched for Jonathan in the corners of the room.
B. J. casually walked over to where I stood with Angel and Joyelle, who were watching the others dance. Angel wore a long, slim dress which made her look fragile—like a bendable straw. Joyelle, who had slimmed down a bit, looked comfortable in her jeans and sparkle tank top. “You want to dance?” B. J. asked Joyelle.
She looked up in surprise. “Me?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said casually. “I know Angel can dance. That’s all Gerald talks about. Let’s see what you can do!”
“Go on,” Angel encouraged her, giggling. “Dance with him!”
“Do it, girl!” I said, giving her a little push.
Joyelle took B. J.’s hand and they danced the next three dances together. Angel watched with excitement. The fourth dance was a slow number, and I was dancing with Leon. B. J. looked like he was dancing in heaven, but I guess Joyelle couldn’t take the intensity. She pretended to be tired and out of breath and went to sit down.
“Why didn’t you keep on dancing? Punk out?” I heard Angel say.
“You got it!” Joyelle replied. “I need a soda to cool off!”
When Jalani went with Rhonda to the bathroom, Gerald danced with Angel. Watching her move was like looking at a breeze through the trees. Gerald grinned as he complimented her. “You’re good, girl!”
“I know!” she teased him. She didn’t really need a partner—she moved with the music. Tyrone danced with her a couple of dances; so did B. J. and a couple of boys she didn’t even know. She told me that she had never had so much fun.
Everybody in the room jammed the floor for the stomp dances. Angel and Joyelle joined all of us while we let the music take us way beyond the gym.
Just then the DJ announced “Dance Contest—Swing Dance!” Leon glanced at me, and said, “Let’s win this thing, Keisha!”
But I had just seen Jonathan walk in the door, so I said, “Ask Angel instead. She’s probably the best dancer in this room—including you!” Leon probably thought I was showing sensitivity to Angel—I just wanted to get rid of him for a few minutes.
So Leon said to Angel, “I hear you’re the best dancer in the room.”
She answered shyly, “I like to dance, but I don’t know how good I am.”
“You want to be my partner for the swing dance contest?” he asked her.
Surprised, Angel asked, “What about Keisha?”
Leon grinned and said, “No, kid, this one’s for you.” I nodded at her to go ahead and she and Leon glided on to the dance floor. Nineties kids dancing to forties music. The teachers loved it. Angel and Leon moved to the center of the floor and stayed there, winning round after round. The crowd cheered as Angel and Leon danced in the spotlight spinning and twisting. Angel was light on her feet and seemed to move as if the music flowed through her. Leon, instead of the falls and rolls and slapstick comedy he usually did in the halls at school, used his body to move with the music and dance with style. They were perfect dance partners. While they danced, I hid in the noise and confusion and moved around to the other side of the room where Jonathan stood, not far from his father.
“Hello, Mr. Hathaway,” I said to the principal, but Jonathan knew the greeting was for him.
“Well, good evening Keisha, you look magnificent, my dear. That silver really becomes you. Don’t you think so, Jonathan?” he said to his son a bit distractedly. He was watching the swing dance competition.
“Oh, of course,” Jonathan said quickly, pretending to have just noticed me. But he had watched me approach, had glanced with a nod of approval as I got closer, and I know that he liked what he saw.
“I’m going to watch the dance contest,” Mr. Hathaway told Jonathan and me. “That little freshman, Angel, is quite a dancer! Wow, look at that!” Mr. Hathaway loved the Valentine Dance. He left Jonathan and me standing there in the shadows to watch the dancers.
“You look beautiful,” Jonathan said sincerely.
“Thank you,” I murmured. My heart was pounding.
“I especially like the butterfly necklace. It’s just perfect!”
I was about to thank him for giving it to me, when a great cheer went up and Angel and Leon were announced as finalists in the dance contest. Instead I said quickly, “Are we still going out to eat tonight?”
“Oh, yes,” he said. “I’ll follow you home, and as soon as I see your date leave, I’ll whisk you off to a place where dreams come true.”
I looked away from him and toward the crowd that surrounded Angel and Leon. I tried not to show the giddy excitement I felt. “Do we have time for that dance you promised me?” I asked shyly.
“It’s probably not a good idea,” he answered, glancing around. “Let’s save our dance for tonight when we can be alone, OK?”
I nodded and smiled at him with anticipation. “See you soon,” I whispered quickly. I hurried back to where Leon and Angel, sweaty but triumphant, held the trophy for winning the dance contest. Gerald made Angel sit down and eat some pizza and drink two glasses of water. She fussed, but she ate it all.
“I’m taking you home,” he told her. “Joyelle, you ready to go? Your mom told me to get you home early.”
Joyelle nodded, but glanced back at B. J. He waved and grinned at her. “You got it together, Joyelle! We’ll have to do this again when your mama will let you stay out after midnight!” She laughed as she found her coat
and Angel’s and they left with Gerald.
I put my hand to my head and told Leon, “I knew you were good, but you were really something else out there!” I frowned as if my head was hurting.
“It should have been you dancing with me,” Leon complained mildly. “Even though we won the contest, I would have much rather danced with you and lost.”
“I can’t dance like Angel,” I told him. “Besides, my head is killing me. I think I’m coming down with something. Can you just take me home?” I rubbed my temples and made my face look like I was in real pain.
“You don’t want to go out to eat or anything?” Leon asked me. I could see he was really disappointed.
“Not this time,” I replied. I was starting to feel a little guilty. “Maybe we can do something this weekend,” I added, trying to give him a little hope.
It worked. He looked fairly cheerful as he found my coat and we headed for the door. I noticed that Jonathan was already wearing his black leather coat as he stood by the door, saying good-bye to the couples leaving early.
Leon inhaled deeply the cold night air. “It’s been a good night,” he said. “Even with a headache, Keisha, you look like a princess.”
“Yeah, it was awesome,” I told him. But I thought only of Jonathan. I noticed him in the dark parking lot moving silently to his car and I relaxed, knowing he’d be there.
When we got to my house, Leon walked around to let me out of his car. He grinned like a puppy as he walked me up to the door, did not slip on the ice on the sidewalk, and did kiss me quickly on the lips before I hurriedly fumbled for my door key. I smiled and whispered to him, “I had fun, Leon. I really did. Call me tomorrow, OK?” I knew that asking him to call me was a signal that I was interested, but I had to get rid of him in a hurry. It worked, and he slid on the ice, on purpose, all the way to his car. I laughed and opened my front door, waved, and watched him drive away.
My house was dark and silent. On the table by the front door was a note:
Keisha.
Dad and I went to the movies. We’ll probably be home before you will! call me!
Love, Mom.
“Perfect!” I cheered. “They’re not home!” I scribbled a note in reply.
I came home to change clothes, Mom. We’re
going out to eat! I’ll call you.
Love, Keisha
I didn’t say who “we” was, and I had no intention of changing the silver dress that Jonathan obviously liked so much, but now I knew I had several hours before I had to be back home. I rushed back outside, stepped carefully over the ice that Leon had so much fun sliding on, and slipped quickly into the open door of Jonathan’s car.
16
“Relax,” was the first thing Jonathan said in that smooth, soothing voice of his. I wasn’t really aware that I had been holding my breath, but I exhaled slowly and sighed with contentment. I looked at him with a grateful smile as he drove through the frosty night. It had started to snow. Huge flakes floated down, covering the streets and trees with magic.
“Where are we going?” I asked finally. “I’m a little hungry after all that dancing.” I glanced out of the tinted windows of the Cherokee, watching the streets change from the brightly lit business sections of the city to more dimly lit neighborhoods. “I’m not familiar with all the restaurants in town,” I said hesitantly, “but this looks like a residential area.”
“Do you doubt me?” he asked, a hint of a chill in his voice.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I was just wondering.” I felt stupid.
“We’re almost there,” he said, his voice returning to its usual mellow tone. “Just relax.” He turned the music up, and drove skillfully, in spite of the increasing snowfall, through the narrow streets of the area of town called Mount Adams. The streets were on steep hills, with ritzy apartments and condos overlooking the rest of the city. I closed my eyes and almost dozed, not noticing where we were going. Jonathan pulled into a narrow driveway and turned off the motor. I sat up and looked around. Apartment buildings lined both sides of the narrow street, which I didn’t recognize. Several inches of fresh snow had already fallen. The view of the city we had seen from the park was in the distance. “Dinner is served,” Jonathan said elaborately, as he came around to open my door. He bowed for me as I stepped out of the car, and I giggled with delight.
“Where’s the restaurant?” I asked, stepping carefully through the fresh snow.
“Right up these steps,” Jonathan replied, as he opened one of the narrow doors of the building.
“Smells wonderful,” I commented. As we climbed the steps, I wondered how a restaurant could manage in a place like this. But I knew these little places in Mt. Adams thrived on college kids and the newly rich slicks who lived in these condos. Wait till I tell Rhonda and Jalani about this one, I thought with pleasure. And they’re eating the same stupid waffles they order every Saturday night!
At the top of the stairs, Jonathan opened the first door on the left and I was stunned. This was no restaurant—this was Jonathan’s apartment! How stupid could I be, I thought, wishing I could kick myself. To Jonathan I said, “Why didn’t you just tell me you were taking me to your apartment?” I stepped inside the door warily.
“I wanted to surprise you!” he said simply. The hurt and disappointment on his face made me sorry I had used that tone of voice with him. “We’ll leave if you feel uncomfortable,” he offered.
Again, I found myself apologizing to him. “I’m sorry, Jonathan, but this is just a little unusual. I was expecting a real restaurant, you know.”
“I know, but look what I have prepared for you. I’ve been working all day.” He touched a light switch and the room was glowing with soft lights and soft music. The faint smell of lavender seemed to float on the air. While I stood there, a little overwhelmed with the scene, Jonathan walked around the living room and lit candles. Lavender. They burned low on the corner tables.
“It’s lovely,” I said honestly. “I’ve only seen places like this in movies.” I felt a little uncomfortable, but Jonathan was acting like such a gentleman, and seemed to be trying so hard to please me that it was difficult to be angry. It was actually kinda exciting.
The living room was small, with a soft beige sofa, two wicker chairs, and a coffee table made of petrified wood. Over the sofa, instead of the usual piece of art, a huge framed mirror dominated the wall. Jonathan glanced at it as he was lighting the candles and noticed a tiny piece of lint on his gray silk shirt. He flicked it away. Smaller tables in the corners of the room held the candles and bits of decorative artwork. He had set up the far end of the room as a dining area, with a small table covered with white linen and two wooden chairs. The dinner table was set for two with wine glasses, crystal goblets, and fine china. The room was simple but charming—a room decorated by a man with taste, I thought. The tiny kitchen was off to the left, his bedroom to the right.
I wasn’t sure what to do or where to sit. I glanced at my watch.
“Let’s eat,” he said, noticing me check the time. “We only have a few brief moments together. Please sit down.” He opened the oven and brought out two perfectly cooked Cornish hens, brown rice, broccoli, and soft, warm rolls.
“When did you do all this?” I asked in admiration and amazement.
“I would tell you I cooked it,” he told me as he set the food on the table in front of me. “But I won’t lie. I ordered it from a gourmet company that delivered it just a couple of hours ago. That’s why I was late to the dance.”
“I started to think you weren’t coming,” I said, putting my napkin in my lap.
“All I have thought about today is you,” he replied, looking directly at me with his strangely golden eyes. I blushed again.
He brought out a bottle of what looked like red wine. I was trying to figure out how I was going to refuse the wine without sounding like a kid, when he showed me the label. “Non-alcoholic—just for you,” he said with a smile.
I sighed with r
elief. The drink was fresh and cold and strongly carbonated. It was delicious. By the time we finished dinner, I had relaxed enough to feel comfortable in his place. I explored his rock collection and his collection of coins from around the world. I glanced at his bedroom, but decided not to even go in there. He noticed my nervousness and quickly closed his bedroom door. I was really pleased to note his concern for my feelings. He’s trying so hard to show me an adult evening, I thought. I really liked feeling so grown and mature.
I walked around the small living room, lighting more candles, looking at the tiny mementos that he had collected from around the world. He had a delicate Italian vase, a hand-carved German mug, a tiny French sculpture, and a Spanish bullfighting cape. I was aware that he was watching me, admiring my silver dress. We ended up on the sofa in the living room, laughing at his photo albums: pictures of Jonathan as an infant in Italy, a small boy in Germany, and a gawky twelve-year-old in Spain. From the time he was small, he was extremely good-looking, but in none of the pictures was he smiling. I also noticed, but did not mention, that there were no pictures of his mother at all. I found one picture of his father looking dusty and brown in an old Army uniform, and amazingly, just like Jonathan looked now.
I leaned against him and he put his arm around me. I felt safe and alive and very sure of myself. I kicked off my shoes. He fingered the silver butterfly necklace.
“This is very pretty,” he murmured, “and so are you.”
I smiled. “I’ve been meaning to thank you. It’s so lovely.”
“Thank me? Why?” he asked.
“For leaving the necklace on my doorstep on Christmas,” I said shyly. “It was the most wonderful gift I ever received.”
“I wish I could take credit for it, and I wish I had done something thoughtful like that, but I didn’t leave it,” Jonathan told me.
“Then what about the flowers—the ones wrapped in the same silver ribbon as the box that had the necklace in it?” I asked in confusion.
“Nope, that wasn’t me either,” Jonathan told me cheerfully. “You must have a high school admirer—one of those little boys that you’ve outgrown.”
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