She was stunned enough to be quiet for the rest of the way until she had to cut off to go home. “I’m really worried about you,” she said.
I patted her hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll call you tomorrow to tell you how it went. I’ll tell you everything in detail,” I promised, actually offered as a peace token. She seemed happy enough about that.
“If it doesn’t go well, or even if it does, you probably won’t see him again Saturday night. You can come over then, and we can go up to your sister’s hotel and—”
“I’ll let you know tomorrow,” I said quickly, and walked on. I was really beginning to regret ever having let Chastity know about Roxy. With no real social life or excitement, it had become her own single most precious thing. As I drew closer to home, I pushed her out of my mind and concentrated on preparing for my date with Evan.
I could see that Mama was sincerely happy for me. She would never say it, but she was very worried that the situation with Roxy would have so heavy and negative an impact on me that I would have a horrible young life. Papa was like a dark cloud hovering above anything I would do that could draw me closer to being the kind of daughter Roxy had been. I was sure Mama felt she had failed terribly with Roxy and was afraid that she would do something to cause a repeated disaster involving me. It took great courage for her to stand up to Papa and insist that I have more fashionable clothing and be more of a teenager now. He didn’t know it, but Evan was very important in my life. He was my first real date, and if he was a disaster, or if anything Chastity said was even slightly true, I could have a very big setback. Actually, both Mama and I could.
Thinking these things, I almost decided against putting on the new dress, but when I did, I looked so good in it that I was determined to challenge Papa if he should disapprove. I waited as long as I could before going downstairs, and I did put on my trench coat first. Papa had been sure to get home from work in time to meet Evan. He was sitting in the living room reading the Wall Street Journal when I came down. Mama was in the kitchen. If Evan was on time, I thought, he would be there within five minutes. Please be on time, I prayed.
“Oh, you look so nice,” Mama said, hurrying to see me.
“How can you tell? She’s wearing that coat,” Papa said.
Mama could see I was wearing the new dress and quickly figured out why I was being so cautious. “I mean her hair, her face, Norton. Can’t you give your beautiful daughter a compliment?” she asked, putting him on the defensive immediately. I knew Mama’s strategy. “Young girls are very sensitive and need some confidence building.”
“What? No. I mean, of course. Yes, you’re beautiful, Emmie. I didn’t mean . . .”
The doorbell rang. I sighed with relief.
“That must be your young man,” Mama said. She went to the door quickly. Papa looked at the hallway in anticipation.
“Bonsoir, I’m Evan Styles,” Evan said to my mother.
“Bonsoir. Bienvenu,” Mama said.
Evan stepped in and saw me. “Bonsoir, Emmie. Comment allez-vous?”
Impatient, Papa rose and came to the living-room doorway. “So, this is the young man trying to learn French?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” Evan said. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Wilcox.” Evan extended his hand and then looked at me. “Or should I say, enchanté?”
Papa relaxed his shoulders and shook Evan’s hand. I should have warned Evan about his handshake. It was extra firm, almost to the point of causing a little pain. Evan didn’t blink, however.
He was wearing the tie he promised he’d wear. He looked very handsome and sweet.
Papa put his hands on his hips, taking on that drill-sergeant demeanor. “I don’t want her out past midnight,” he said.
“Zero hundred hours, sir. I understand.”
Papa didn’t smile. He glanced at me and then at Mama. “We don’t go by military time, son,” he said. “Midnight is just midnight.”
“I understand,” Evan said. For a moment, I held my breath. He looked as if he might salute, and I knew Papa wouldn’t find that at all funny. Thankfully, he didn’t.
“Well you two have a wonderful time,” Mama said.
“Un merveilleux temps,” Evan said, his eyes twinkling when he looked at me.
“Très bon,” Mama said. “Yes, have a wonderful time.”
Papa still hadn’t cracked a smile. “Be careful,” he told me, and returned to his chair and his paper.
Mama gave me a kiss, and I walked out with Evan.
“Wow,” he said. “You’re not on military time, but I bet your father’s on guard duty tonight. I hope you remember the password to get back in.”
“I do. It’s ‘I’m home,’ ” I said, and he laughed.