He nodded, gave me another kiss, and started away. “I’ll call you in the morning, hoping you can come to dinner,” he said.
“Okay.” I waved and stood there for a moment, watching him hurry to the corner to flag down a taxi. Then I went inside. Papa was waiting up in the living room. He was watching a late news show.
“Cutting it close,” he said, nodding at the miniature grandfather clock on the mantel.
“We decided to walk back. It’s so nice out, Papa.”
“Well, I’m glad he’s not lazy.”
“Oh, no. He was the one who suggested it.”
“Where did he take you to eat?” he asked, his voice softening.
I told him and described the restaurant.
“Sounds sensible.”
“He said his father likes to go there.”
“That so?” He flipped off the television and stood. “Sounds like you had a good time, then.”
“Yes, I did. He asked me to dinner at his house tomorrow night. He said his parents would send a car for me.”
“Really?” He looked thoughtful.
“Can I say yes?”
“Let me sleep on it,” he said. Then he did something he had never done. He smiled and said, “Your sister never asked permission for anything. She just did what she wanted.”
I held my breath. Would he say anything more, tell me anything more about her?
“Did you tell him about her?”
“No, Papa. No one at school but Chastity knows about her, remember?”
“Just wanted to be sure,” he said. “Let’s go to sleep. Your mother went to sleep an hour ago. I thought mothers were supposed to be the ones waiting up. That’s the French for you,” he added, smiling again. He put his arm around me, and we walked upstairs together. At my bedroom door, he kissed me good night and said, “Maybe we’ll sleep in a little tomorrow morning. I could use more sleep these days.”
“Aren’t you feeling well?”
“Yes, sure. I’m just at it a little too much these days. I’ll slow down,” he said, sounding like someone trying to convince himself.
I watched him walk to his and Mama’s bedroom. His habitually perfect posture wasn’t there. He was slouching as if he suddenly had a great weight on his shoulders. I don’t k
now why such a small thing bothered me, but it did. I even felt tears coming into my eyes.
I guess getting older meant realizing your parents wouldn’t be young forever. We were all in such a rush to be older. We never really gave much thought to what that meant for our parents. Papa had told me once that even though his father and he didn’t get along all that well, and even though his father never forgave him for not making a career in the Army, one of the saddest days of his life was the day his father retired.
“My old man was an old man,” he had said. “All that spit and polish that had kept the wear and tear hidden was gone. He looked a lot smaller to me, too, when he was out of uniform. I congratulated him just like everyone else, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to celebrate the beginning of the end for him, and I knew how empty his life was going to be without his precious Army duties.
“But that’s the way it is,” he’d quickly concluded, maybe because he realized he was being a little too sentimental for a tough guy.
I hadn’t said anything. I just hugged him. He kissed me on the forehead and held me longer than he ever had. And I held on to him, because even at that young age, I knew there would be a time when he would no longer be there to hold me. I mean, I always knew that. It just wasn’t something young children permit in their world of thoughts. Everyone else’s parents could die, but not yours.
My memories of my night with Evan quickly overcame my moment of sadness. I was eager to get to bed just so I could lie there and recall every second, especially every kiss, every touch. When I closed my eyes, I saw his eyes vividly. He was there under my eyelids. I tried to remember every word he said, too. It was as if I had a video recording and could play the whole evening back by just pressing my eyelids closed. It turned out to be one of the most contented nights of sleep I ever had.
Mama was really surprised at breakfast when the first thing Papa said to me was, “Okay, you can go.”
“Go where?”