But sitting at the table through the requisite coffee and cigarettes would only lead to trouble getting away at all. She needed to change out of her Shabbos dress and into something more suitable for what she had planned.
Zaide tapped the table. “It’s fine. Have a good time with your friends. Girls, you can snag Betty during your calisthenics one morning to tell you all about her senior-year academics. And her antics.” Zaide winked at Betty, who hoped he was teasing her.
Betty rose and stepped to Zaide’s chair, kissed him on the cheek, and leaned in for a little squeeze around her grandfather’s shoulders. In the summers he rarely sat still long enough for this kind of affection.
Betty had asked Georgia to meet her in the lobby, so of course she was there, leaning against the wall, gazing into the air. She grabbed Georgia’s hand and pulled her into Zaide’s office, closed the door, and turned the lock. Changing here would save Betty time—at least five full minutes—instead of running home and back.
“Okay, now tell me what I’m doing here instead of the arcade,” Georgia said.
“You’re here helping me look blasé.”
“This is about Abe.”
“Of course this is about Abe. Unzip me, would you?”
Georgia unzipped Betty’s dress and she stepped out of it. Georgia lifted it from the floor and slipped it onto a wooden hanger, as if she were a handmaiden. Then she harrumphed. She grabbed the dungarees and white cotton blouse from the back of Zaide’s desk chair and flung them at Betty.
“Remind me why you didn’t go home to change clothes?”
“I didn’t want to waste a second.” Betty stopped fussing and laid her hand on Georgia’s shoulder. “Thank you for going late to the arcade on account of me,” she said, not wanting to take Georgia for granted.
Lickety-split, Betty was out of her silk stockings and satin slip and on with the dungarees. She buttoned the blouse almost to her neck and flicked her hair out of the collar. She tucked in her shirttail and added a thin white patent-leather belt.
Georgia fixed Betty’s collar. “You’re keeping something from me.”
“I just want you to wait with me, is all.”
“Abe walked you home twice. I didn’t even know about the second time until now. What happened?”
“He walked me home from the bonfire, and again last night after dinner.”
“That’s why you didn’t go to the movies with us?”
“I suppose it is.”
Betty perched on the step stool in the corner and pulled on white bobby socks, then slipped her feet into her new penny loafers and cuffed the pant legs. She set her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. “And we talked for two hours.”
“Two hours? And all you did was talk?” Georgia smoothed her bold polka-dot skirt behind her bottom, sat on the floor in one fluid motion, and wrapped her arms around her knees. She stared at Betty like a child ready for story time.
Betty never hesitated to tell Georgia anything, but the conversation with Abe was tucked into her heart and not for sharing. “What do you want to know?”
“Did he kiss you?”
“I told you, we talked.”
“I thought you were kidding.”
Betty stomped as she stood. “I wasn’t. It was wonderful. Maybe it was better than kissing.” Betty didn’t believe that, but she did believe the simple act of talking had jump-started their romance. Which was more than just romantic. “We talked about our families and what we want to do with our lives. He cared about everything I said. Every single word.”
Georgia stood. “Be careful. All the girls have their eyes on him.”
“You included?”
“Don’t be crabby. I’m just telling you what I’ve heard. He’s big man on campus up in Ann Arbor.”
“This isn’t Ann Arbor, and I don’t need to be careful with Abe. He—” Betty stopped. She’d already said too much. Let them all think she was just having fun.
“He what?”
“He’s different.” Betty wasn’t going to tell Georgia that after two days she felt like she’d known Abe all her life. She slid from the stool and hugged her best friend tight. “Don’t worry about me.” Then Betty opened the door of Zaide’s office storage closet and tugged on the chain dangling from a naked bulb. She looked into Zaide’s full-length mirror and traced her index finger around the perimeter of her lips, then retrieved her purse in search of Revlon’s Stormy Pink and a Kleenex. She applied a fresh lipstick coat in front of the full-length mirror. “Abe really cares about me.” Betty blotted her lips. “He’s not going to hurt me.” She blotted again. She looked into the mirror at her face, then up and down at her body. She turned to the side, then the back, to investigate her curves from all angles. “I thought you could get to know him a bit tonight before he walked me home, but maybe that’s not a good idea.”
“Oh no,” Georgia said. “I think it’s the perfect idea.”
After saying good night to her grandparents, and circulating through dawdling guests in the lobby, Betty grabbed a peach from the fruit bowl on the lobby’s side table. God forbid anyone go hungry before the midnight buffet. She held the ripe fruit out to Georgia as a peace offering.
“Is it poison?”
Betty cocked her head. “That’s only apples, silly.”
Georgia accepted the peach, but set it back into the bowl and slid her hand into Betty’s. “Don’t be angry with me for watching out for you.”
“You don’t have to protect me from Abe. But I adore you for wanting to, I really do. Now come with me and say hello.”
“And then leave?”
“Yes, please. Anyway, isn’t the gang waiting for you at the arcade?”
“They won’t miss me if you want me to stick around.”
Betty shook her head as she squeezed Georgia’s hand, and then released it to push open the front door. The sun had set, and the bluish-purple sky was fading to ink.
Abe stood on the bottom step, just as Betty had hoped. Just as she’d prayed. A
