“Hey, Betty Boop, I thought you might be here. We’re going for ice cream and then to the arcade.” He tapped his car door as if it were a bongo drum. “Hop in.”
Betty stepped closer to the edge of the porch. “No, thanks, I’m waiting for Abe.” She leaned at the waist and waved to Marv without looking at Eleanor. She’d never confronted her about the message from Abe or about flirting with him.
“He can meet us there,” Marv said.
Eleanor turned her head toward the passenger window.
“You go.” Betty would have said “have fun” but she had trouble being too nice around Eleanor.
“Everyone will be there.”
“Then you don’t need me.” She hadn’t meant to be snide; Marv was trying to include her. Isn’t that what she’d always wanted? “Maybe next time.”
Marv pulled his arm inside the car, gripped the wheel with his left hand, shifted, then rested his right arm atop the back of the seat.
Eleanor slid next to him and looked out the driver’s side window. “Don’t wait too long,” she said. “It sends the wrong message.” She tipped back her head onto Marv’s shoulder and they drove away.
Eleanor knew what to say to rile up Betty’s insides. What if Abe stood her up? Maybe he’d changed his mind and didn’t love her after all. Boys were the fickle ones, not girls.
Betty exhaled a long breath. No. Love like theirs lasted forever. He’d have an explanation. It was only a few minutes, yet it weighed heavy on her, like the first days of a cold or flu.
Just then two headlights cut through the deepening darkness.
Betty turned to the street and folded her arms across her bosom. Then she dropped her hands to her sides, mitigating her cleavage. This was not the time.
She swore if it wasn’t Abe, well, she’d march right into the house and write another letter to her roommate. They’d have grand adventures at Barnard. Who wanted a boyfriend anyway?
She did.
A horn beep-beeped and the car slowed to a stop. Betty’s pulse thumped against her chest and her throat burned as she swallowed back fury. Underneath, her heart swirled with relief.
Betty slid into the passenger seat and clicked the door closed. She smoothed the sides of the navy-blue fabric along her thighs, as if primping, when really she was wiping off her clammy palms. She folded her dry hands atop her lap. She did not slide over next to Abe or lean in for a kiss. While the silent treatment wasn’t really her style, she didn’t know what to say. The only words ping-ponging around her brain were unkind and crass. Had she no patience or tolerance? He was only ten minutes late.
Nannie’s voice echoed in her head. “Always be on time. Punctuality is a sign of respect.”
But that was an old-fashioned sensibility, and this was a modern relationship. Surely he had a reason for being late, so she didn’t know why it bothered her so.
Marv drumming the car door. Eleanor laughing. Why did anyone have to know Abe was late and see her standing on the porch checking her watch?
Anger wove through her thoughts, trickled along her veins. She wished it wasn’t so, but appearances mattered. How was she to convince Nannie and Zaide Abe was the right guy for her if this behavior continued?
Betty’s jaw hurt from clenched teeth. She shuddered with fear. Did this mean she and Abe were over? Was love compatible with anger and disappointment? She’d always been careful not to rile up her grandparents. They loved her, but she wouldn’t take any chances.
“I’m sorry I’m late.” Abe held the steering wheel at the twelve o’clock position. “Do you want to know why I was late?”
Betty’s pulse quickened. She creased the fabric of her pant leg between her fingers. It was fidget or cry. She looked at Abe. “I was so embarrassed when Marv and Eleanor came by and invited me to go with them to the arcade. I was just standing here, waiting for you, not knowing if you were even going to show up. I had to cover for you. I’m not a very good liar, you know. I’m sure your friend Eleanor got a real charge out of that.”
“I would never stand you up. I was on the telephone with my mother.”
His mother. He had been on the telephone with his mother. That was something that never happened to Betty, not even on her birthday.
After an hour at the arcade and a double scoop of fudge ripple to share, Betty locked fingers with Abe as they stepped from the street to the sand. In his other hand, Abe swung a Big Beam lantern like a lunch pail, the same way Zaide had when he and Betty had walked to the Black River before dawn, fishing rods over their shoulders, tackle boxes stocked with supplies. She hadn’t fished with Zaide in years, but that tackle box held some of her fondest memories. Abe pointed the Big Beam toward the lake, past the resort, and it shined a glowing path as if reaching toward the unknown, where it all went dark again. The farther they walked, the farther the light would reach.
“I know you didn’t ask, but I told my mother about you,” Abe said. “She asked me if you were pretty, but I told her no.”
Betty stopped. “Pardon me?”
Abe threw back his head and laughed deep and loud. He looked at Betty and placed one hand on her cheek. He set the Big Beam on the sand and placed his other hand on her face as well. “I told her you were the most beautiful girl in the world. Inside and out.” He kissed her forehead, grabbed her hand, scooped up the lantern as if his arm were a digger, and started walking again. They headed toward their dunes.
Betty welcomed walking in silence, piecing together parts of Abe’s story.
