Betty shook her head. “Where were you?”
“Is that what this is about? You walked home with Peck because I wasn’t waiting?”
Betty stared into the night and her neighbor’s wall. It was painted white—a blank canvas for her thoughts.
“I asked Eleanor to tell you I’d be late tonight,” Abe said.
Betty guffawed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
If he didn’t realize Eleanor would drop Marv in a minute, Betty wasn’t going to tell him. “Nothing.” She crossed her arms.
“I’m sorry you’re mad. Really, I am. I had somewhere I had to go.” He wrapped his arm around Betty’s shoulder and his hand dangled near her breast. Her heartbeat quickened even more. “I wouldn’t just ditch you like that,” he said. “I care too much about you.”
Betty’s throat tensed. She turned and looked into Abe’s eyes, which was the opposite of looking at a white wall. “I know.”
“No, you don’t, or you wouldn’t have been out with Peck.”
“I wasn’t out with him; he walked me home when you weren’t there.” She omitted the fact that Nannie had given her no choice. “Then I changed clothes and we took a walk, that’s all. Since I didn’t get any message from Eleanor, I didn’t know where you were.”
“Were you out looking for me?”
She couldn’t lie. Well, she could have, but she didn’t want to. “Yes. I was worried. And Marv didn’t know where Eleanor was either. I think he really likes her.” But who did Eleanor like?
“This isn’t about them. It’s about us. This isn’t going to work if you don’t trust me.”
There was an us and a this. “I’m sorry I doubted you. You’re not like other boys.”
“You mean I’m not like Peck?”
“Marv’s A-OK, believe it or not.”
If Abe didn’t want to be friends with Marv, that was fine, but two nice Jewish fellas should be able to find something in common. Something besides her. “So, can you tell me where you were tonight?”
“It’s not important.”
Betty reached for Abe’s hand. In theory, honesty was easy. It was harder in practice. “Everything you do is important to me.”
Abe smiled. “For me too.”
Betty’s heart swelled. How big could it get before it burst out of her skin? She laid her head on Abe’s shoulder, gently at first, and she relaxed, allowing him to bear its pressure. He was sturdy and strong. He could support the weight.
“I want you to know I was telling you the truth, so I’ll tell you where I was tonight. Where I’m going to be six nights a week,” Abe said. He stroked her hair, still in the bun. “But you’re not going to like it.”
They settled onto the glider on the screen porch. Betty’s shoulder fit under Abe’s arm like a puzzle piece. “You can tell me anything.”
Her head rested atop his chest. Her feet stretched to the end of the glider. Abe had his left arm around her, his hand gently on her hip. His heart thumped a rhythm that could have lulled Betty to sleep, had she not so badly wanted him to kiss her again.
She traced one of his shirt buttons with the pad of her index finger and wondered if hiding beneath she’d find a smooth chest or one covered in wisps of hair.
Abe turned his wrist without moving his arm from around Betty. “I’m not going to be able to walk you home at night anymore.”
She began to perspire. Had her grandparents objected? Had someone seen them together and snitched? “Why not?”
“I got a second job. I’ll be stocking shelves at night at the grocer’s. Doing some odd jobs they don’t want to take care of during business hours. This was the only time the owner could show me what to do. I start Monday after my dinner shift.”
Betty averted her gaze as a lump formed in her throat. Their nights. There would be no more walks, no more dunes, no more cuddling on the porch. “Oh.”
“Hey, it’s not so bad. I’ll be done before midnight. I need the extra money to send home. Well, I don’t need to, but I want to.”
Abe’s voice tinged with equal parts sorrow and pride. Betty hugged him, not sure what to say.
“No deliveries on Sundays, so I’m off tomorrow night,” Abe said.
Betty looked at him and lifted her eyebrows.
“I know you have to stay for the after-dinner show, but how about after that? We could go to the arcade or walk on the beach?”
“Sure,” Betty said. But she didn’t want to do either. She wanted to be alone with Abe, where they could talk just above a whisper without watching the clock. Where they could neck without fear of her grandparents waking up or walking in on them.
“We could double if you’d rather. Ask Marv and Eleanor?” Abe said.
“I was thinking maybe we could go back—” Betty’s cheeks warmed. She pressed her lips together and smiled. She was sure Abe could see her redden under the porch light.
“To the dunes?” he asked.
Betty nodded. She knew just the blouse she’d wear. The one with round pearl buttons that slipped easily through the buttonholes.
She shifted to an upright position but still leaned against Abe. He pushed on the floor with his feet so that the glider rocked back and forth. They sat in silence for a few moments. Silence with Abe was as comfortable and complete as their conversations.
“What did your father say about your new job?” she asked.
“I don’t really talk to him,” Abe said. “But he wouldn’t like it.”
“I thought you were doing this to help your family.”
“My mother. I’m doing it to help her. But I haven’t told her either. She wants all my money to go toward senior-year expenses.”
“I don’t mean to pry,” Betty said. “But are there any other family members that could help her?”
“You’re not prying. My family owns a store but it’s not like Georgia’s family’s store. It’s a five-and-dime, and we get by. I’m on a scholarship. But that doesn’t pay for all my fees and graduation activities. And unfortunately my mother’s rich parents
