When that song ended, he bowed and strutted over to the other cadets, who shook his hand and slapped him on the back. My friends ran over to me and Gussie said, “I thought you didn’t know how to dance.” Helen asked what his name was. Irene said he was the best-looking man in the room.
But Filomena made a face. “He knows it, too.”
“How can you say that?” I said. “You didn’t even talk to him.”
“I know a wolf when I see one.”
Rose pinched Filomena’s cheek. “Oh, she’s just jealous that he asked you instead of her.”
I danced with a few other cadets, but they were flat-footed and clumsy compared to Harold Weeks. I kept hoping he’d come back but he was dancing with one of the local girls who knew how to tango and wore rolled stockings and a lot of rouge.
I’d given up on dancing with him again when he tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Can you spare a waltz?”
I didn’t want to sound like I’d been dying for him to ask, so I said, “I could ask you the same question.”
“Jealous, eh?”
I just smiled and tried to flirt like the other girls. I tilted my head to one side and opened my eyes really wide. Someone had told me that men like it when you let them talk about themselves, so I asked him why he joined the coast guard.
“I was supposed to take over from my father at the ironworks, but I hated the idea of building ships and never going to sea.”
“What did he say when you enlisted?” I asked.
“I didn’t tell him.”
“You mean you ran away?” I was thrilled to think we had so much in common.
He said, “I told my mother so she wouldn’t worry. I’m a lot like her and she has a mind of her own. You should have seen the looks in church when she walked in with her hair chopped off, like Irene Castle.”
So much for having anything in common.
When the song ended, I heard Miss Holbrooke calling me and the other lodge girls off the dance floor.
“I see I have to let you go,” Harold said. He took my hand up to his lips and said, “Meet me outside on the porch at midnight. I’ll be waiting for you.”
And just like that, I had an assignation! I don’t know how I knew that word but I knew it meant something romantic—maybe not so respectable but completely thrilling.
I told Filomena about it on the way back, but instead of being happy for me, she said, “Don’t you dare. He thinks he can take advantage because you’re so young.”
“Maybe he likes my eyes,” I said. “Maybe he thinks I’m a good listener.”
“You think he’s coming over in the middle of the night to talk to you? I thought you were smarter than that.”
We went back and forth. She told me he was a skirt chaser and to wake up but I thought she was just being mean or maybe Rose was right and she was jealous.
Finally she gave up. “If I can’t talk you out of it, swear that you’ll stay on the porch or else I will go out there with you.”
After I promised not to leave the porch, Filomena didn’t say another word to me all night. She just turned off the light and pulled the pillow over her head. I hated that she was mad at me, but Harold was so handsome and no man had ever paid me that kind of attention. And when was I ever going to have another assignation?
I was lying on top of the bedspread, waiting for the first stroke of midnight, like Cinderella except I had both of my shoes on. I flew down those stairs and out the kitchen door, which they never locked.
It was very dark—no moon or stars—and I didn’t see Harold anywhere. I waited and worried and was starting to give up when I saw his white uniform moving through the orchard.
He took my hands and kissed them really slowly, and not just on top but on the palms, too. It made me shiver. But when he tried to pull me toward the trees, I sat down on the step and tucked my skirt around my legs.
“Oh, so you are a good girl,” he said and sat down with his leg right against mine. “Good girls don’t usually dance like that.”
I said, “Like what?” trying to act as if I’d had this kind of conversation a million times.