“Thanks,” I told them. “I’d better get back and thank him.”
“He might have committed suicide by now,” Lana joked.
“I doubt it,” Suzette said. “He’s not the type. He’d just say, ‘Next,’ and move on to someone else.”
“How do you know?” I asked her. “I wouldn’t bet on it.”
Their eyes widened.
“You didn’t cross the Rio Grande?” Lana asked. “Did you?”
“Only my hairdresser knows,” I said.
“What?” Suzette asked.
I laughed. “My dad has this book about old commercials and advertisements, and that was a line in one selling hair color, but it got to mean more, if you get my drift.”
“Drift? Did you sleep with him or didn’t you?” Suzette demanded.
“Figure it out,” I said, and started to leave.
They both were stunned, I was sure. They caught up before I reached the cafeteria.
“You’d better tell us,” Lana warned. “We’re your best friends.”
I just smiled at them and hurried to join Kane, who still did look shocked.
“Sorry,” I said, sitting beside him. “Help me put it on.” He slipped the ring onto my finger. “Thank you. It’s beautiful, Kane.” And then I kissed him, but not quickly and not like you would kiss a relative. I could hear the conversations around us pause.
He smiled.
Neither of us said anything else. We ate and talked to our friends. For me, it was like coming up out of the cold, dark, deep water for a little while. But it wasn’t long before I was thinking about poor Cathy. She probably never got to experience this sincere feeling. Even after she got out of that attic.
Later that day, just before dinner, I showed my father what Kane had given me. I could see how surprised he was, and impressed.
“First ring I gave your mother was out of a Cracker Jack box. It was a joke, but she kept it a long time. Might still be in a drawer.”
“It’s what it says, not what it is,” I told him, and his eyes widened.
“Your mother wouldn’t have said it any differently.”
I looked away quickly. No tears, not tonight, I told myself.
Dad was working very late every day now, so I prepared our dinners. Twice during the week, however, he had to have dinner with the owner and the architect. He wanted me to come along, but I told him I had to do my homework and not to worry, because I didn’t mind
eating alone. The second night, however, I asked him if I could invite Kane.
“Sure,” he said. “Used to be that you could win a man over through his stomach, but it looks like you’ve done it already.”
“Never hurts to be sure,” I told him.
He laughed, but I could feel the hesitation in the laugh and in his voice. I imagined that it seemed to him like Kane and I were moving too quickly in our relationship, and although he probably wouldn’t ask, he had to be wondering just how far had we gone.
These days, if you were with the same boy for two dates, it was assumed you had had sex. I wasn’t going to tell anyone, especially my girlfriends, but I was impressed at how Kane wasn’t demanding. At first, I had told myself that he really respected me, but lately, I was telling myself he had deeper feelings for me than he had ever had for other girls he had dated, and that was the real reason for his patience. Nevertheless, a part of me remained suspicious. I couldn’t help feeling that Kane was much more sophisticated than I was when it came to sex. He was very bright and very perceptive, but then I reminded myself that he wasn’t conniving, devious, or sly. At least, he wasn’t to me.
He came over right after school and watched me prepare a vegetarian lasagna. He sat in the kitchen, entranced, as if I were doing an amazing chemistry experiment.
“I don’t think—in fact, I know my mother can’t do what you’re doing,” he said.